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"Not really."
"Not really? Are you serious? You think I'm desperate?" he teased her.
He saw her mouth curve into a slight smile. Some of the tension ran from her body. It was all the opening he needed.
He reached out and gently put his hands on her waist. He was careful to keep some space between them as he ran his hands up and down the curves of her waist. Her breath splintered as she felt him caress her. His hands ran from her waist to her shoulders and back again. Back down to her waist and slowly over the sides of her hips to her upper thighs. There he stopped and momentarily gripped her. Her legs trembled and the inside of her thighs flooded with a wet heat.
He slowly pulled her body into his as he felt the sexual tension grip her.
"You're sweet. You smell sweet, babe." He leaned into her hair and breathed in her scent. "Say my name." He held her waist in an uncompromising grip. "Say it."
She trembled in his arms. "J-Jake." Her voice was wobbly. His lips moved to her ear.
His mouth spoke into her ear. "Ask me to kiss you." His arm moved around her waist and lifted her pelvis into him. She gasped and hung in his arms. "Ask me, Amy."
"Pl-Please." Hunger attacked her senses. She pressed her body more fully into his.
He lifted her and pushed one strong thigh into the vee of her legs. He slowly let gravity ease her down until she was caught, straddling his leg. Lightning speared through her. He pushed his chest into hers and caged her within his arms. "Please what, babe?"
"Kiss me, Jake. Kiss m-"He slammed his mouth down on hers. He pushed his tongue in and attacked her mouth like he had been waiting forever. Their tongues and teeth dueled. His body pushed against her. She felt his gun biting into her shoulder. She whimpered. His hand moved to her hair and pulled her face up so he could have her mouth more fully.
She whimpered again and pushed against him. She broke her mouth free. "Stop."
He pushed harder and tried to take her mouth back. She struggled against him. "Stop."
His breathing was labored. "Why?"
She was dazed at the speed of his actions. She put her hands on his chest and tried to push. She had no strength. "I don't like the gun. Please, I-"
He cut off her words. "Okay, babe." He moved his thigh from between her legs and lowered her to the floor. Her legs shook. He steadied her, then stepped back. She leaned against the wall for support while he unbuckled the harness and took the weapon off his shoulder. His eyes never left hers. He moved across the room and opened a cabinet and put the gun inside. He snapped it shut. He started coming back to her.
She looked around and moved away from the wall. She couldn't let him corner her there again. She walked into a living area that was connected to the kitchen. He followed her.
Amy thought desperately of something to say or do to slow him down. "Nice house." She looked away from his piercing eyes and focused on the room. A big coffee table in front of a large couch dominated the center of the room. She reached down and absently straightened the pile of magazines scattered on it. She mindlessly fluffed a pillow on the couch. Her eyes found his and then darted away again.
Jake saw her discomfort as she awkwardly moved around the room. He tried to give her a moment to adjust. He savored the pleasure of finally having her to himself. In his home. In his power.
"Okay. No gun." He held up his hands to show he was no threat. "Come here."
"Um, no J-Jake-," she began.
"Um, yes Amy," he returned, coming toward her.
She held up one slim hand and gave him her best teacher face. "No. This is going too fast. I think we should slow down."
"Too fast? Are you fucking kidding me?" She cringed at his crudity. "You've had my guts tied up for ten weeks. You're lucky you're not naked right now. I don't even remember what a hot shower feels like anymore. All I get are cold ones. Because of you. I thought that I would never get to have you. And now I find out you don't have a Goddamn husband." He shouted the last five words.
She stood looking at him in shock and horror. He raked his hand through his hair and turned away from her. He took a sharp breath and looked back. She was standing there, petrified. Petrified because of him. Shit.
"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated as hell by this whole situation. I don't understand why you let me think for ten weeks that you were married. What the hell are you so scared of?"
He looked her over while he waited for her answer. She was dressed in skin tight, low-rise capri length jeans. Her shoes were nude colored, three inch platform sandals. Her top was sleeveless and clung to her breasts. He'd never seen her in anything remotely like that before.
She was an itch he needed to scratch.
"I'm not scared of anything. I didn't know you thought I was married-"
"That's bullshit. Why the hell wouldn't I? You have pictures of your daughter on your desk. Everyone at that school calls you 'Mrs. Sanford.' "He glared at her.
