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After two of the most incredible orgasms of his life, Jake knew he should have been relaxed and in a supine position on the couch, chilling. Not even close. He was more keyed up now than he had been after he found her stalled on the side of the interstate. And he knew why. She wasn't playing the part he had assigned to her in his mind. At this point, she should have been cooperative, ready to please him. Women always were, after sex with him. He wasn't conceited, it was just a fact of life that women liked what he had. Or what he did. Or the whole package. Whatever. This is where the fawning usually came in. The part where they tried to stay, and he tried to get rid of them.
Forty-five minutes. How the hell much more could she wash? The shower was still running. Was she actually trying to wash away what they had done together? The sex? Fine. She had some hang-ups, obviously. Maybe he'd just drive her home tonight. Put the whole interlude behind him. He could deal with her car situation tomorrow.
Amy scrunched her wet hair and looked in the mirror. In the absence of a blow-dryer, her hair would dry in long, loose curls. No big deal. Kayla always tried to get her to wear her hair this way.
She hadn't planned on getting in the shower. It just happened. She didn't actually feel the need to bathe, she just didn't want to face Jake. She looked in the mirror and tried to pinch some color into her pale cheeks. The bathroom was obviously the spare one, and a bottle of shampoo in the shower stall, a comb in a drawer and a bottle of unscented lotion could only go so far.
There was nothing else she could do. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Jake turned from the window where he had been staring into the dark night when he heard her open the bathroom door and walk back into the living room. They stared at each other in silence across the room.
Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I want to go home." Amy watched a ferocious scowl come over his features. He was about to deny her. "Please."
Jake continued to study her in silence. He knew he should take her home, but the urge to keep her here was strong. Maybe too strong. With her hair wet and no make-up on her face, she looked utterly defenseless. And young. And still gorgeous. Shit.
With his continued silence, Amy began pleading her case. "I f-forgot to tell you that I have Triple A. They could come pick up my car tomorrow. Y-you could drive me home. Or I could call a cab." She trailed off into hopeful silence and waited.
"Why do you want to leave so bad?" His deep voice, his very sexy drawl with a slight southern accent washed over her. It was hypnotic. She needed to get away.
"I'm not used to this. I d-don't do things like this." Her hands twisted in front of her. "I'm uncomfortable with this situation. Please."
Jake came to an abrupt decision. Pushing her was not good. For her. Or for him. He crossed the room to her. "Okay."
Amy was so relieved by that one word, that she didn't immediately realize that he was crowding her again. It only took a moment. He reached out and put his hands on the wall on either side of her. He was crowding her personal space, but was only touching her with his piercing eyes. "But there's going to be a trade-off. You get your way this time, and I get my way next time."
Chapter Four
Amy woke the next morning in her own home, in her own bed. Surprisingly, she slept fairly well. She allowed herself five minutes to remember the details of the evening before. She only needed thirty seconds to come to a conclusion. She had been systematically seduced by an expert! She had never been kissed like that. Never had sex like that before. He knew all the right buttons to push.
The drive to her house had been tense. Other than giving him directions, only one word had been spoken. After he pulled into her driveway, he put it in park and turned to her. He pulled her to him unhesitatingly, and took her mouth with his. It was a possessive, carnal kiss, and there was no way Amy could misinterpret what it meant. He wasn't through with her. He lifted his head and threaded his fingers through her hair. "Remember." It was a command. But what exactly was he commanding? That she remembered how good the sex was between them? Or was she supposed to remember that he was demanding that things go his way the next time? How the hell could she forget that? It had practically been a threat. She hadn't wasted time pondering. She nodded her head and fled into the house.
****
She spent the morning getting her car repaired and papers graded. She purposely kept herself busy in an effort not to think. Her heart rate would so easily go into overdrive if she let it.
At ten o'clock that night, she was feeling calmer. She had lived through the day, and had managed to function quite well. Her weekend chores were done, and she had even managed to eat a reasonable amount.
She was ready for bed and watching old sitcoms when her doorbell pealed. She jumped and her heartbeat went erratic. No way. No way would he be this arrogant. Her temper flared. She marched over to the door and looked out the peephole. Oh. My. God. He was. He was this arrogant. A tremor of exciteme
nt lashed her spine. Fury and excitement. It was a combustible combination.
Amy opened the door a couple of inches. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice fairly vibrated antagonism.
Jake stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a porch column. Totally relaxed. "Coming to see you. What else?"
"Well, go away. It's after ten. You're crazy." She started to push the door closed. His booted foot slid into the opening. She glanced down at it and then back at him. "Jake."
"Amy."
God, he was handsome. He looked, moved and acted like he was God's gift to women.
He moved to lean against the door jam. He didn't seem to be in a hurry, just stood there, lounging. He saw the expression on her face, and let out an ostentatious sigh. "Did you really think that one time would be enough?"
Amy felt her stomach drop to her feet. Images that she had been suppressing all day slammed into her brain. Her breathing fractured and her arms started shaking. He pushed against the door with his boot. She had no strength in her arms and the door pushed her backwards. He slipped inside her house and in one movement locked the door and leaned back against it. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood there, watching her.
This time he was dressed in faded jeans and a white tee-shirt. Again, the shoulder holster was strapped to his side. Amy looked at it with fascination. What was wrong with her? She hated guns. Why did she find his so sexy? Was she crazy? She shook her head, trying to regain control.
Amy backed up a step and tried to summon common sense. "You can't just--"
