In fact, she wanted nothing more than to be out the door and away from this man and all the frustration she couldn’t explain, but unfortunately she’d given him the courtesy—undeserved, by the way—of taking her shoes off.
Cursing under her breath, she bent, reaching for the orange sneakers.
A second later, a large male hand smacked the shoe out of her hand, sending it thudding pathetically against the wall.
She reared up, ready to tell him exactly what she thought of his caveman tendencies.
But before she could get a word out, she was against the door, sandwiched between the cool, hard wood and his hot, hard body.
Luke leaned into her, one hand braced above her head, the other coming to circle her throat. Not threateningly—she had zero fear that he’d hurt her.
But her heart was pounding all the same, at the anger in his eyes, at her own answering anger.
His thumb brushed along her collarbone. In warning? In promise?
Jordan’s hands lifted to his chest, intending to push him away—to tell him that she had no intention of being manhandled.
But the second her fingers brushed against the soft fabric of his running shirt, she sucked in a breath, her intentions shifting.
Soft as the shirt was, the man beneath was anything but.
His chest was a s
olid wall of sculpted muscle, and her mouth was watering at the thought of having him pressed against her.
Jordan managed to stop short of caressing him—barely. But neither did she push him away. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, eyes squeezed shut, her palms against his pecs, his thumb continuing its taunting caress along her neck.
The dog barked, but they both ignored him.
Slowly, Jordan opened her eyes. Lifted them to Luke’s.
The anger was still there, but it was no longer the dominant emotion. Somehow, mad had tangled with desire, and judging from the pissed-off confusion on his face, he didn’t know what to do with it any more than she did.
“I should go,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” His voice was husky.
There was a moment of stillness, and then they both moved.
His mouth came down on hers, and Jordan was more than ready for it, her lips welcoming his as though she’d waited a lifetime for exactly this moment.
There was nothing shy about Luke’s kiss. His hand slid behind her neck, tilting her face up so his lips could nudge hers apart, his tongue claiming hers in an intimate assertion that had a breathy moan escaping her throat.
Luke answered by pushing closer, his body pressing hers to the door as her arms went around his neck.
His hair was too short to hold on to, so Jordan gave in to the urge to scrape her short nails against his scalp, and she felt his growl of response from head to toe and all the most sensitive places in between.
Luke pulled back just long enough to utter a harsh damn it against her mouth before kissing her again, slower this time, as though if he took his time they could somehow get control of the situation.
They couldn’t. The more they touched, the more they wanted, the longer they kissed, the harder it was to stop.
And it had to stop. This was…
Luke’s mouth moved from her lips to trail down her neck, and her head fell back with a gasp.
Madness. This was madness and irresponsible, and…
Career suicide.