The kiss started soft at first, but it quickly turned into something else. It was deep. Thorough. Filled with passion, aggression and pent up anger. His hands grabbed her face while his mouth wrecked her. Lyra kissed him back just as hard, tasting the faintest trace of whiskey in his breath, feeling every nerve in her body react to him as though she'd been waiting forever for this. As though his breath could quench the fury in her. The confusion.Suddenly, she pulled away. And before he could register the loss, her hand flew to his cheek and she slapped him again. She stared at him and he held her gaze. Her eyes were filled with an intensity that wasn't just anger. “Don't think kissing me solves everything,” she said, breathless. “I know,” he whispered.Even as her pulse pounded with anger, her traitorous body still responded—hungry with need. Heat flooded to her core and trailed down her thighs. Tyson's eyes, still glazed with desire, roamed her almost-bare chest. That's when
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