Chapter Eight
Grady washelpless at the pleasure surging through his veins and the hot, fiery woman taking him into herhands.
What the heck was he doing? More like she was doing him, and he hadn’t gotten a single, cotton-picking answer fromher.
When she’d asked if he wanted to talk, he’d said no. She, not he, was the one who should be begging to talk. She was the one who’d level those false accusations on him—tried to get him fired and ruin his reputation. He should be the one demandinganswers.
But then again, she’d only lie. No, much better to get her while she was vulnerable, and then she’d admit she’d lied and maybe beg for forgiveness. Not that he had any tooffer.
“Is this all you want?” he asked, gritting his teeth to keep from falling apart—way toosoon.
“Does it matter?” She bore down on him, gripping himtight.
“No, guessnot.”
He wasn’t going to admit any need to her. No way. If all she wanted was his body, then he’d give it to her. He’d had other women, but the only one who left him raw and disturbed was this brown-haired, brown-eyed hellcat occupying every nook and cranny of his mind and sucking the oxygen out like a river of flames devouring thewilderness.
Problem was, after meeting her again last Christmas, he hadn’t wanted any other woman—actually wanted nothing to do with the entire femalesex.
What the heck was he doinghere?
She was lovely. Lovely and forbidding like a vengeful goddess. Bent on seeking her own pleasure first. Selfish and so freaking spiteful, but he wouldn’t have her any otherway.
This pillar of womanhood, this inferno of feminine guile was right where he wantedher.
If he could break through to her—break her stubborn will—if only to admit her feelings andfaults…
“Grady, oh, Grady, why? Why?” she cried out as she neared completion, carrying him over the top withher.
He wasn’t done with her, so he flipped her onto her back and stared into her gorgeous, but usually shieldedeyes.
For a split second, he thought he glimpsed a crack in her face—a small shadow of regret or was itsorrow?
And then it wasgone.
She shoved him from the bed. “Time’sup.”
What the eff? She was harder than nails and just asmean.
What had he expected? A cuddle and a warm shower with an ice cold glass of sweet teaafter?
“Don’t worry, I’m out of here,” he grumbled, grabbing his boxers, but not before tying off the used condom and putting it into hispocket.
He’d learned long ago to be careful with his DNA, and the minx who was pushing him out of bed was one of the worst offenders when it came to false pregnancyscares.
“How about we do this again next week? That is, if you want another dog.” She pulled the sheets primly over her body, the one he’d thoroughly mounted only a few momentsago.
“There are other rescue centers,” Grady said, zipping up his jeans. “You’re not the onlyone.”
He wasn’t about to let Linx put a spell on him, especially after what had just gonedown.
“Your loss.” She leaned back on the motel’s plush pillows, looking as if she was having a smoke without acigarette.
Sure, he’d put that smug, satisfied expression on herface.
He had to be careful with her, as he was with all women. They couldn’t be trusted as far as he could shoot his wad. He’d had his fair share of fake paternity suits before, all because he was a traveling smokejumper, fighting forest fires worldwide, and too busy to show up in court—an easymark.
Thank goodness for DNAtesting.
