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His lip was swelling and she was betting his ribs were already bruising. Not that he looked or acted as though he had so much as a scratch. His shoulders were straight and arrogance was stamped thick and clear on his expression.
“It’s a male thing. ” He shrugged.
“It’s a male thing? A male thing?” Incredulity filled her as she stared back at him. “You went completely Neanderthal because it was a male thing?”
“You wouldn’t take care of the situation and fire his ass, thereby eliminating the risk of him further abusing you, so I took care of it. ”
“You took care of it?” She blinked back at him. She couldn’t believe the utter audacity it took for him to say such a thing. “Is this how you take care of domestic squabbles, too, Zeke? Just beat the hell out of any man that doesn’t do as you think he should?”
“I’m on duty then. ” His smile was tight. “I wasn’t on duty this morning. What’s more, the fact that you’re my woman changes those rules. I took care of what’s mine. ”
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’ve lost your mind. ”
She stared back at him, amazed, bemused as he stalked slowly toward her. There was something about the move and shift of his body now. An aura of sex and danger that seemed to fill the room and surround her as she backed away from him. “You did not buy me. You don’t own me. You are a crazy man. ”
He smiled, a slow arrogant curl of his lips. “I bet your panties are wet, Rogue. I bet you’re so damned turned on right now that a good hard breath would get you off. ”
He was so right.
“You’ve lost your mind,” she accused him as her back met the wall.
“Your pussy is hot and wet,” he growled. “Come on, Rogue, tell me it’s not. ”
She shook her head, wishing she could ignore the weakness in her knees, the tingling between her thighs.
“You’re bloody, bruised, and arrogant,” she snapped back. “That is not a turn-on, Zeke. ”
“Liar. ” Black velvet and sex, his voice was rasping, primal. It sent a heat wave crashing through her body.
Rogue swallowed tightly. The wall was at her back; Zeke was a wall barely pressing against her breasts. Her nipples hardened, sensitized as his chest brushed against her, stimulating them further as his hands braced against the wall, bracketing her in.
“What is your problem?” She wished her voice didn’t sound so weak. She wished she kept the anger burning rather than the arousal, but it was the arousal, the hunger, spurred by the complete dominance he was displaying, that took precedence.
“My problem?” His eyes narrowed, dark brown lashes shielding his thoughts, his emotions as he moved one hand from the wall beside her and brushed his knuckles down the exposed line of her throat. “My problem is a hard-on that only you can satisfy.
My problem is the fact that I tried, Rogue, to stay away from you. I tried to warn you that you were dealing with something you might not be prepared to handle. But did you listen?” He brushed a whispery kiss beside her lips and nearly stole her breath with the caress.
What the hell was wrong with her? She would have slammed her knee into the balls of any other man who dared to attempt to dominate her. She didn’t consider herself submissive, but right now, she felt so feminine, so much weaker than Zeke, and yet so much a part of him, that she didn’t know what else to call it.
Were women somehow programmed to at least sexual submission? Was it a part of their genetic makeup, the need to be conquered sexually, to be protected?
“This is crazy,” she gasped as his lips slid from the corner of hers and moved to her jawline.
Her head rested back against the wall and tilted to the side to expose the sensitive underside of her jaw. Weakening pleasure flowed through her body. It thundered in her veins, raced over her nerve endings, then centered in her pussy where it turned into a blazing ache.
“This is because of your wife,” she breathed out roughly. “You lost her. You think you have to protect me. I won’t have it. ”
“This isn’t about anyone but you. ” He nipped her jawline. “Just me and you, Rogue. ”
She shook her head desperately as his lips slid along her neck, spreading fire along her flesh as she fought to find the strength to tear away from him.
“You gave yourself to me. ” His teeth raked over her collarbone.
“My body,” she protested.
“Your heart. ” His voice rumbled as he forged a path to the valley of her breasts, brushing aside the cotton material of the shirt, and lifted one hand to palm a swollen mound of her breast.
Sensation was building inside her again. She had just had him, no more than a few hours ago, yet her body was weakening, softening, needing him.
