Free Mastering Kyla (Stone Cellar Erotica) by Aubrey Stone Page B

freshman, exploring his newfound skill with women and making a total ass out of himself. She’d called him a womanizer, a user, a bastard. And that’s how she was going to see him until the day he died. Worst of all, it was no one’s fault but his own. He raised his glass to her, and downed it, meaning to pack up and head back out into the storm.
    But when that other guy started giving Kyla trouble, Jackson couldn’t walk away.
    He strode across the bar, meaning to scare off the douche bag who was clearly upsetting Kyla. When he interrupted them, Kyla looked up at him with a flash of relief in those luminous eyes. Without thinking he tilted her face up and planted a kiss on her lips. Sensation travelled across his skin like a shockwave, jolting his cock awake and twisting the knife deeper into his heart. He pulled back from the kiss and turned toward the other guy, hoping to hide the bulge in his pants from Kyla.
    Kyla said something to the pervert and he took off. Jackson chuckled at the irony. She hadn’t needed his help after all. And here he was, with a raging hard-on and an even bigger crush on the beautiful redhead than he’d had before.
    That’s probably why he brought up the wedding, and Mike, and how she was better off without the asshole. But when Kyla tried to slap him he moved, catching her wrist before she could make contact. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in a silent “o” of surprise. And then she turned away from him, the damp ropes of her copper mane shielding all but her graceful little nose from his view. He felt another surge in his groin, and let his eyes wander over the rest of her body.
    It didn’t take a lot of imagination to picture her out of those wet clothes; the rain had really soaked her through, and that thin little jacket was as good as shellacked to her luscious figure. It curved down along her back to her tiny waist, then jutted back out delightfully around her firm little ass.
    “Why would you say that?” she whispered.
    Jackson hiked his eyes back up to her face. She turned to study him, eyes watering. Oh, shit. Jackson gritted his teeth. “Sorry,” he said lamely. “It’s none of my business.”
    “Did he... did he tell you something that—?” She angled her body toward him and put one cool hand on his arm. But when she made contact, her eyes widened and she glanced down, as if noticing the sculpted muscles under his shirt for the first time.
    Maybe it is the first time she’s noticed,
he thought to himself. Kyla had been the only girl immune to his efforts in college. But now, her breath seemed to catch and her eyelashes fluttered. She didn’t take her hand off his arm, he noticed.
    Jackson cleared his throat, unaccustomed to feeling out of control. “No, nothing like that. It was more a personality thing.”
    “I don’t understand,” Kyla said, narrowing her eyes.
    Jackson realized he better get himself out of this conversation before he made matters a whole lot worse. “Look,” he said, trying another one of his smiles. “I’ve had a few of these, and it’s entirely possible I’m just blowing smoke.”
    Kyla’s gaze sharpened. “Bullshit. You know exactly what you’re saying.”
    Jackson felt a wash of goose bumps spread along his shoulders. If a sub ever used that tone on him in the bedroom, Jackson would have her spread over his knee in two seconds flat, howling for mercy. But Kyla had never indicated an interest in BDSM; Mike had moaned about that frequently over the years as Jackson related his various escapades.
    Jackson grabbed Kyla’s wrist with his free hand and slid it off of his arm. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Kyla.” He grabbed her harder than he meant to and she winced, but she didn’t pull out of his grasp. Jackson stared at her. Was that desire in her eyes? Or was his own desire clouding his perception, making him believe she wanted what he wanted.
    Yeah,
Jackson thought.
I’m way too turned on for my own good. Time to