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“Is this game over now?” she asked him irritably. “I’d like to go back home. ”
At that point, Dawg grinned.
“Dawg, you are going to take me home, aren’t you?”
He heard it in her voice. She was getting a clue.
“Not yet. ” He flashed her a quick grin, anticipation beginning to build along with the heated lust at the knowledge he saw in her eyes.
“Where are you taking me then?”
“Your new home. ”
“And that’s where?” She pushed the question through gritted teeth. Dawg almost chuckled. Oh yeah, things were changing now.
“We’ll play your question and answer game later,” he retorted, refusing to answer her for the time being. “For now, let me ask you this: Do you have any clue what the hell was going on in that warehouse?”
She breathed out wearily, leaned her head back against the seat, and said, “Drugs?” It was said with such an air of resignation that he was inclined to believe that maybe she wasn’t involved with terrorists.
With her background, it was damned difficult to believe she was. Her brother, Alex, was one of the finest Special Forces soldiers Dawg had ever known, his reputation was solid, and Dawg knew for a fact it had been Alex who had raised Crista.
“Know how much trouble you’re in?”
He glanced over in time to see her lashes drift closed, feathering over her cheeks like dark shadows.
“Are you taking me to jail?”
Was he?
Hell no, he wasn’t. If he was going to turn her over to the authorities, he would have done so in the warehouse. He was damned stupid was what he was. A horny fool.
“Not yet. ” He tightened his lips before moving his hand from his cheek and letting his forefinger brush over his lips, remembering her kiss as he watched the road thoughtfully, his elbow still propped on the window frame.
Damn if he wasn’t stepping into a mess this time.
“What are you going to do, Dawg?” she asked him quietly.
The sound of her voice made him harder. Not just hard, hell, his dick had been hard since the day he glimpsed her walking down Main Street a year ago and knew she was back, even before he caught sight of her face. No, he was harder. Painfully hard.
A vision of her head lowering to his cock suddenly had his entire body clenching painfully. Wide, innocent chocolate eyes staring up at him as his cock head disappeared into her mouth almost had a groan ripping from his chest.
That vision haunted him; that one and several others. The sight of her pussy, dark curls saturated with her juices as he parted the tender folds with his thick erection. The sound of her cries as he tucked the hungry crest at her rear and took her there, hearing her shock, her pleasure. Dreams that had haunted him for years. Dreams he intended to make reality now that he had her.
“To the boat. ” His houseboat. The Nauti Dawg. His home.
He heard the hard breath she took.
“No. ”
He glanced at her, seeing the revulsion on her face, and a flare of anger pierced his mind again.
She hadn’t been good enough to step foot into his home eight years ago, and she still thought she was too good for it.
“You prefer jail?” He eased up on the gas, glancing around as though looking for a place to turn around.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” she argued desperately then. “You know I wasn’t, Dawg. It was a coincidence—”
“I don’t believe in coincidence, Crista. ”
