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He stared down at her, tormented, tortured.
“I can only give you who I am, Sarah,” he whispered. “Everything I am. And everything inside me screams out for you.”
Sarah trembled at his confession, at the hot desire in his look, the feel of his hard, hot body against hers. She wanted him, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
“Please, leave me alone,” she begged him. “If you really do care about me, you’ll just leave me alone.”
He shook his head. A sigh heaved from his chest.
“For now,” he whispered. “Only for now, Sarah. I won’t be able to stay away for long.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her the peace she pleaded for. But there was no peace. Her heart broke for him, for the lonely pain she saw in his eyes, for her own needs eating her up inside. But she knew; knew to the bottom of her soul, if she didn’t stay away from him, then she would end up giving him exactly what he wanted. Anything he wanted. Anything he needed to still the pain inside him.
She pressed her lips together, tamping down the rising cry forming in her chest. The one that would beg him to stay. The one that would plead for him to make her understand. The one screaming out silently that he touch her again, that he ignore her protests and take her, hard and fast, wiping away her inhibitions.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He was back the next day. Not at work, but coming up beside her as she jogged along the deserted sidewalk where she took her run every morning. She nearly stumbled as he came along beside her. He was dressed in sweat pants and leather jogging shoes. It was the first time she had seen him out of his boots and jeans. She had wondered over the years if he owned anything else.
His black hair was tussled, his muscular arms and chest bare.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring him, thinking he would give up or maybe run out of breath before long. But he didn’t. He jogged easily beside her, not speaking, keeping a careful distance, only glancing at her occasionally.
She jogged past the little street she lived on, then headed along the concrete path that led through the deserted maze of juniper stands and dust covered dunes. The morning was warming up and she could feel the glaze of perspiration that began covering her skin. Not too much further ahead was a rest area, a few park benches and a water fountain.
She was panting when she reached it, but Brock was barely winded. He walked beside her as she paced around the shaded area, catching her breath, letting her body cool down.
“I bet you could fuck all night,” he mused, his voice pulsing with lust. “You just jogged over three miles without stopping. Stamina, Sarah, means a lot.” He flashed her a wicked look. He was pushing her on purpose.
“What are you doing here?” she bit out, walking over to the water fountain.
She bent to the stream of water that came on a touch. The stream was cold, refreshing. After drinking, she held her cupped hand under the arched spray, then splashed it on her face.
“Courting you.” The information had her turning slowly, raising to her full height and staring at him in shock.
“Courting me?” she questioned him.
“Yeah. You know. Getting to know you, getting you used to me.”
“Seducing me.” She nodded. “That’s not courting, Brock. It’s seduction.”
“Baby, I already seduced you. I keep trying to get you to remember that.” He shook his head at her, his expression patient, tolerant. “Now, we’re getting to know each other.”
He gave her that boyish, endearing grin that set her heart to racing. The one that said he knew he was winning, but was willing to play it her way for a while. The one that made her entire body ache for his touch.
She looked around the secluded area, wondering if there would be witnesses if she decided to brain him out of sheer frustration.
“Brock, I know plenty about you. You’re a local commodity, remember?” she said bitterly.
He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes on her.
“So, you want to be the one that got away?” he asked her curiously. “I can understand that, sugar. Really, I can, but there’s such a thing as cutting off your own nose to spite your pretty face. There are things I could do for you. Real good things.” His voice lowered suggestively.
“I’m going to cut something off if you don’t—“ A gasp escaped her as he pulled her into his arms, his lips coming down on hers with all the power and erotic sensuality he possessed. And he possessed a lot.
Sarah was nothing if not susceptible to it. His tongue speared past her lips and hers met it heatedly. Her arms wrapped instantly around his broad shoulders, her breasts swelling, her nipples beading at the heated feel of those hard muscles. Her thighs parted as he bent, lifted her close and drove his swollen cock into the vee of her thighs.
“Damn, you’re more addicting than drugs,” he swore as he backed up, sitting on the bench then dragging her body over his, her thighs surrounding him, her cunt cushioning his erection through the layers of cloth that separated them.
