She remembered lying on the living room carpet, staring into his triumphant face, breathing hard, so furious she wanted to spit at him. Nose to nose, hearts pumping, they’d lain wedged between her father’s recliner and the television, each waiting for the other to move. Muscles tense. Ready. He’d known if he were so much as to shift his weight, she might be able to twist away; she was waiting for just that opportunity.

“Give?” he’d asked.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I pinned you.”

“For now.”

He grinned, taunting her. “I’ve got to be heavy.”

She glared up at him and tried vainly to ignore her racing heart. The truth was he’d been crushing her, but there was more to it than that. She had to fight to keep from glancing at his lips, so near hers. Her blood pumped hard through her veins and she wondered what it would be like to make love to him. Right then. Right there. While they were still sweating and breathing hard from their wrestling. She saw his eyes darken, his pupils dilate as his own thoughts possibly mirrored hers. “Come on, Kris, I win,” he said, his voice low.

“It’s temporary…” She licked her lips and heard him groan, felt the hardness between his legs. She let out a little moan in reply and he lost control and kissed her. Hard. With a hot lust that spread from his bloodstream to hers. It was glorious.

And then she bit him.

Drawing blood.

He sucked in his breath in pain, his weight shifting just a bit. He swore, too, softly but dangerously as she started to wriggle free, struggling to gain enough room to twist and kick him as she’d learned in her last class.

But she stopped cold when she heard footsteps on the stairs outside the apartment door.

“Get off!” she ordered.

“What?”

Keys jangled on the other side of the door.

“It’s Dad! Get off!”

In one fluid motion, Jay rolled off her and onto his feet. Before she could tell him what to do, he sprang over the couch, landed in the hall, and slipped into the bathroom as Kristi quickly adjusted her clothes and threw herself in her father’s chair. She clicked on the remote just as the door swung open, revealing her father.

“Kristi?” Rick Bentz called as he spied her. “Oh…” Dropping his keys, wallet, and badge onto the entry hall table, he glanced at the television that was flickering on to a sports station. As if she’d ever been interested in a golf match. Cripes!