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“Unless terrorists are dealing in drugs. ” He shrugged, omitting the fact that his case didn’t have a damned thing to do with drugs.
She blinked back at him silently again. Damn, that little mind was quick. He could see it working in her expression, the play of emotions that crossed her face finally settling into lines of resentment and anger.
“Stop doing this,” she finally pushed out between clenched teeth.
“Why?” If she had a good reason, he might relent. For this morning.
“Because I don’t want it. ” He could feel her tensing as he drew the sheet fully away, his gaze going to the mounds of her breasts beneath her shirt.
Didn’t want it, his ass. He restrained a knowing smile. He knew women, and he knew body language, and if he wasn’t totally wrong, she wanted it just as bad, maybe worse, than he did. Though he couldn’t imagine her wanting it worse. He swore his cock would rupture with the need to burrow into the tight, heated confines of her pussy.
“Your nipples are hard. ” And he was going to taste them soon. “Is your pussy wet? Sorry, baby, but if you didn’t want it, then you did a damned good imitation of it on my couch yesterday. ”
Shock, arousal, it filled her face as surely as the blush that began to work up along her neck and into her face. And it was damned enchanting. He hadn’t seen a woman blush in years.
But she wasn’t ready for another round yet, and Dawg could sense the uncertainty in her. If he weren’t careful, she could choose prison over him. Crista could be incredibly stubborn as he well knew.
She wasn’t above cutting off her own nose to spite her face.
“No answer, huh?” He let an amused grin quirk his lips.
Hell, Crista was fun. Even with her back up and her mad on, she was fun.
She licked her lips, and his gut clenched. He wanted that tongue on his dick again. If she didn’t decide on his course of action pretty damned soon, then he was going to have to play another very delicate card in the hand he had dealt himself.
Yep, blackmail was a very dirty word, and a man had to have some way of backing up his threat.
“I have to meet with my team this afternoon. ” He rolled away from her, stretching lazily as she seemed to freeze beside him. “We have bad guys—and girls—to catch. ” He threw her a careless smile as he untangled his legs from the sheet and rose from the bed.
Her eyes were narrowed on him, but her fingers had a death grip on the sheet as she held it over her.
She was thinking, though. He could always tell when she was rolling something around in her head.
He remembered before she left, catching that look on her face and wanting to be so deep inside her that she couldn’t hide anything from him. That need had only grown. Right now, he would give his eyeteeth to be buried so deep inside her that even their cells would bond.
“So what am I supposed to do now that you’ve had me fired from my job?” she snapped back at
him irately. “I’m going to assume that during this game you’re playing, I’m not allowed to work. ”
Dawg scratched at his chest, feeling a surge of satisfaction as her gaze licked over him. He was naked, aroused, and he would be damned if he was going to try to hide it from her.
“You have a job,” he assured her, turning to the low chest of drawers on the other side of the room and pulling out clean clothes.
“What kind of a job?” The low, wrathful tone had his lips twitching again.
“Fucking me. I’m fairly high maintenance, Crista. You won’t need another job. ”
Then he ducked to avoid the alarm clock that came sailing at his head, then to avoid the picture frame that held a picture of his Harley. But he felt a swell of joy rise inside him as he jumped for her, gripping her wrist as she reached for the lamp, pulling her under him and holding her to the mattress as she bucked and writhed and cursed with all the exuberance of a damned sailor.
Crista couldn’t remember ever being so furious. A haze of red distorted her view, and a mix of murderous, adrenaline-crazed fury pumped through her veins.
“You bastard!” She tried to scream past the tightening in her chest, her throat. “Do I have whore written on my forehead? Do I look like one of your sex-starved little bimbos?”
She cringed from his body lying atop hers now, from the heavy, naked thighs pushing between her own and the powerful arms that held his body just far enough above her to allow her to breathe.
She wasn’t unaffected. Arousal pumped side by side with the fury, bringing angry tears to her eyes as she collapsed beneath him, exhausted, panting as she glared up at him.
“I hate you,” she hissed, feeling the first tear fall from her eye and track down her cheek. “I can’t believe what a bastard you’ve turned into. ”
