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God, he was a nutcase.
“And why the grocery store?” Her eyes narrowed back at him.
Cooper bent his head and growled, nose to nose. “Those bastards hitting on you at that fucking store are going to learn who the hell you belong to, starting today. Since when the hell did a grocery store become a singles’ fucking meeting place?”
“It always has been actually.” Her smile was tight. “You meet all kinds of people there.”
“Men!” he snarled.
“If I were looking for a man, then I would have easily found one this week.” She shrugged, then turned her back and moved through the house. “And I’m busy today. I bought enough groceries yesterday for dinner tonight, so I don’t need to go to the store.” She looked over her shoulder, those long curls falling down her back. “And I’m not in the mood for you, or your bar.”
He stared at her before turning and stomping behind her. She made him stomp, dammit. She was driving him crazy.
“What do you want, Ethan?” She turned on him as they reached the kitchen. “You wanted no strings. Look, no strings.” She held her arms out from her, her pale blue eyes reflecting an edge of pain. And oh yeah, there it was, a flash of arousal.
His balls went tight. They knotted up beneath the base of his cock with painful intensity.
“What do I want?” he growled silkily, advancing on her. “First, I want to show all those woman-grabbing yahoos in town that you’re mine. Then I want to reinforce that little message while I rub against you on that dance floor at my bar. Once we get finished, I’m going to take you to my office, lay you back on my desk, and eat that hot little pussy like candy and hear you scream my name again. Does that answer your question?”
Her breasts were rising, falling, pushing against her dress with the panting breaths she was taking now.
“You don’t want strings,” she whispered.
“I fucked you without latex.” He grabbed her hips and jerked her ass to him. Hell in a handbasket, he had the least amount of control in the world where she was concerned. “If that’s not strings, baby, I don’t know what it is.”
Her hands gripped his forearms. “But I’m on birth control. There’s no risk.”
“Have you lost your mind, Sair?” He nipped her ear in retaliation. “I’m the condom fanatic, remember? You think I forget latex at the drop of a hat? You think I’ve ever trusted another woman enough to spill inside her?” He licked the little burn of the nip. “And I want to do it again. I want to watch while my cock pushes inside your tight pussy. Watch the way I stretch you open. Take you and fill you as you suck me in. Those are strings, damn you.”
Sarah felt her knees weakening. She knew she should protest this. She should be screaming, throwing him out, telling him to go to hell.
He hadn’t trusted her. He hadn’t asked her, but had had her investigated instead. And evidently by someone who knew what the hell he was doing. Because he had found almost everything.
“Physical strings,” she whispered, her eyes almost closing as he ground his erection against her rear. “You couldn’t just ask me anything about me, could you, Ethan? You had to ask others.”
She tried to pull away from him, but he wasn’t letting go. And not letting her go, holding her firmly, rubbing his erection against her ass, was killing her.
Three days. She had been without him for three days. How was she supposed to stand this? She thought she could survive. That she would be okay. But she wasn’t. She was miserable. She ached. She woke at night needing his arms around her, tormented, hot, crying out for him. And he wasn’t there.
She hadn’t had enough of him, she assured herself. Just a few more days, and maybe she could have sated the need that tore at her.
“It doesn’t go away, baby.” She jerked at the sound of his voice, as though he could read her mind. “I’ve jacked off until my balls are blue and it doesn’t help. Nothing’s going to help until I have you again.”
He turned her around, his hand curved beneath her hair along the back of her neck, holding her in place while his lips covered hers.
She was supposed to fight this? Fight the pleasure that built until it felt like a fire was searing her? Tearing through her mind and melding her to him?
She was supposed to be angry at him, wasn’t she? That was what she had t
old herself for three days. That he hadn’t trusted her. Hadn’t asked her about her private business but had instead had her investigated.
She should be furious, not holding on to him, her hands digging into his hair, desperate for more of him. She needed his kiss, his touch. When his fingers tore at the buttons of her dress, pulling them from their moorings, opening the material as he tore his lips from hers to rove over the tops of the swollen mounds of her breasts, her breath caught.
Yes. She needed this.
“I missed you, Sair,” he groaned, lifting her until he had her on the small center island, pushing between her thighs as he pulled the shoulders of her dress over her arms, along with the straps of her bra.
His lips zeroed in on her nipples, covered them, pulled at the little rings piercing them until she felt shudders of need racing just beneath her flesh. The things he could do to her. The ways he touched her. It was unlike anything she had told herself it could be. It was potent, addictive. It was the height of pleasure.
