He takes a deep breath as we have a stare-off. “Babydoll.” The endearment doesn’t sound very dear right now, his own irritation laced into the word. “My coworker was shot in my house, I came too fucking close to losing you, my case was sent back to square one today, I can’t trust my team, your family doesn’t trust me, and I can tell from your eyes that your pain pill is kicking in.” He sets his rough palm on my cheek, and he brushes his lips across mine with no warmth. “Do not move from this spot.”
So bossy.
After he carried me out of the pool at his house, he changed into jeans and a t-shirt while the paramedics were taking care of my foot. That t-shirt is stretched across the planes of his chest, outlining every dip and edge. The shortsleeves are hugging his biceps on each side of me.
A spark deep in my belly, which I would have thought impossible, ignites as my eyes move over his handsome face, pausing on his lips, and then meeting his again. All of my anger has drained from my face, and I tilt my head in an obstinate flirtation. “Or what?”
“Baby.” It’s a warning, in a tone I’m sure he is used to everyone else buckling under. But I’m not everyone else. He doesn’t scare me.
I smile at him sweetly and slide my palm over the back of his hand that’s still on my cheek, making his eyes turn nearly black. “My cooperation depends entirely on what you plan to do when you get back, Special Agent.”
A small growl rattles in his chest as his angry eyes narrow and volley between mine.
Lifting my brows innocently, I blink and say, “It’s your own fault for being so sexy-bossy and trying to use your big, muscle-y body to intimidate me.” I flirtatiously wrinkle my nose. “I like it when you’re bossy.”
For some reason, every time he’s bossy and I hear that tone in his voice, something in me wants to rebel and see how far I can push him. Is it sad that it gets me hot?
He cocks his eyebrow in frustration, his gaze unwavering. “You’re injured, baby, and you have mild heatstroke.”
It’s amazing what lust can do to the body. And pain pills. My headache is minimal, the ache in my foot is halved, I feel a little like I’m floating, and the slight throbbing between my legs is taking precedence over every other feeling.
Ignoring his comment, I slide my finger over the bulge of his bicep and look up at him through my lashes. “Let’s play a game. You guess the dirty thought I’m having about you right now, and you get whatever you want, if you guess wrong, I get whatever I want.”
He adjusts himself and squatsdown in front of me, some of the tension draining from the lines on his face, his legs splayed on each side of mine, and sets his palms on my knees while holding my eyes captive. His hands are so warm and rough, they send a shiver through my body.
“Baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now that I would like nothing more than to lean you back on this couch and sink into the fucking nirvana between your legs.”
I interrupt him as I slide my hands up his forearms. “Oh good, we’re on the same page.” I lean forward and whisper, “I’m so wet right now that I want nothing more than for you to sink in me and make me feel good.”
His jaw ticks, and I think I’ve got him, but he takes a deep breath as his fingers squeeze the flesh around my knees.
His voice is husky when he says, “No. You’ve told me ten times since we left the hospital that your head hurts and your foot hurts. So, no.”
The floaty feeling is getting stronger, and my smile gets bigger. “Thanks to modern medicine, the only thing I’m feeling right now is how bad I want you to fuck me.”
With a deep sigh, he presses a soft kiss on my lips before he straightens to his full height, making me tip my head back. “Don’t move. I’m going to walk back to the house and get my stuff, and then I’ll help you take a shower and get you in bed.”
Slumping back on the couch, I motorboat my lips. “Party pooper.”
Humor fills his eyes, and I don’t want to look away. Looking into the depths of those dark orbs, the flutter of so many emotions moves through me.
He came for me. He knew I needed him, and he came for me.
Even in my floaty state of mind, my heart purrs in my chest as he turns and leaves through the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
RHYS
FUCK ME.
As I step off the front porch of the cabin, I slide my fingers through my hair and stop. I can’t walk into the big house yet, my cock is hard as a rock.
Setting my hands on my hips, I look across the sea of green trees for miles and smile to myself. No woman has ever been able to turn my self-control into putty like she does. It took everything in me to tell her no and walk away.
As much as I wanted to pull my clothes off her and fuck her on that damn couch, she’s hurt. She may now be my proverbial weakness in every sense of the word, but I’m not a fucking Neanderthal. No matter how many times she bats her eyes and smiles at me.
In just a few weeks, that woman has managed to grab my life, my heart, and my resolve to wrap it all around her safetyand happiness. The part that makes her even more irresistible is that she isn’t even trying. There’s no manipulation there, what you see is what you get.
