Free You Really Got Me by Kelly Jamieson

the memory of his mouth on hers, the taste of him on her tongue so warm and masculine. Her body went hot and soft, even though she could see he was not here with good news.
    Was it bad news? She pressed a hand to her stomach, searched his eyes for a sign of what he was about to say. His expression softened slightly as he approached, his eyes locked on hers, and she wanted to throw herself into his arms.
    Her heart picked up speed, her head going helium-light.
    “Kendall.” His deep voice drifted through the night air above the background chirrup of crickets.
    “Jason. Why are you here?”
    He stopped near her, him outside the open door, her inside. Only inches separated them, and despite the shadows they stood in, she could see the whiskers darkening his jaw, the blue flame of his eyes, the thick black lashes surrounding them. A woodsy scent of oak mingled with soap filled her head.
    “I was worried about you,” he finally answered, lifting a hand to touch her cheek with his fingertips. Their eyes met. And held. Awareness shimmered between them.
    Her heart tilted alarmingly in her chest, making breathing difficult. “Oh.” She swallowed, her throat as dry as if she’d just drunk an overly tannic wine. His fingers slipped down to the side of her neck, leaving a trail of tingles, then beneath her hair and curled around her nape. He tugged her toward him, so gently. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she whispered, her heart picking up a frantic beat.
    But she was so tired of worrying about everyon e else–Natalia, her parents, most of all Kevin, her only family. It felt so, so nice to have someone who was worried about her –someone who could look after her for a change, instead of her looking after everyone else. It was so…tempting.
    She breathed out a soft sigh and let him pull her closer. Or maybe he wasn’t pulling her, maybe she was leaning into him, and then his arms were around her, so strong and hard, and his chest was up against her, also hard and warm. She laid her palms there, on the soft cotton of his T-shirt over his pecs, and felt his heart thudding beneath one hand. He was so warm, almost fever-hot, and she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his shoulder. His arms tightened on her, one hand in her hair, the other on the base of her spine.
    “I also came because I wanted to let you know that I’ve called in the FBI.”
    Her eyes flew open and she jerked back. He held onto her. “The FBI! Holy mother of… why ?”
    “We need some additional resources on the case,” he said. “We still have no evidence there’s been a crime, so relax. I didn’t want you to hear it on the news.”
    “Really?” She searched his face and he nodded. They still stood there in the open door, and she took a step back. She knew it was a bad idea. The way things had ended between them…the things he’d done to her…but still, the words slipped out of her lips. “Do you…want to come in?”
    He gave another short nod, and they moved inside. She eased the door shut so as not to disturb Kevin sleeping upstairs, but the house was so huge he likely wouldn’t hear a thing. She crossed the white-tiled kitchen floor to the worn Persian carpet that lay at the far end of the great room in front of the fireplace. Jason followed her and they both sank onto one of the two loveseats flanking the fireplace, a battered antique pine trunk between them serving as a coffee table. The fireplace gilded the unlit room in mellow gold and scented the air with a faintly smoky woodsy scent. Now the plaintive strains of The Animals singing “House of the Rising Sun” came from the speakers.
    “I know you’re worried about Kevin,” Jason said, his voice quiet.
    She shifted on the small couch to face him, pulling one leg up under her. “And Natalia. I know I told you I wasn’t all that thrilled about them getting married, but I really am worried about her, Jason.”
    “I know.”
    “I felt like you thought I had