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His fingers clenched at her hips, not painful, but forceful, grinding her body against his as the song came to its last, pulsating note. Sarah lifted her head as Brock paused, staring down at her. She was breathing hard and she knew her expression was filled with the pleading desperation raging through her body. So long. It had been so long since he had touched her, held her. She needed him, and God help her, she needed him now.
“Let’s finish that beer.” His hand settled on her back as he led her back to the table.
CHAPTER TWO
Sarah was surprised. She had expected him to want to leave. She didn’t expect him to walk her back to the table and help her back into her chair. Then he sat in his and surprised her once again.
Brock moved, chair and all until he was crowding her into the corner. One arm went behind her back, the other to the table as he leaned forward, blocking her from view of the other bar patrons. She felt enclosed, sheltered and warm as he surrounded her. At the same time she could feel excitement gathering, pooling, making her cunt slick and hot.
“How terrified are you, Sarah?” He whispered the words at her cheek now, staring into her eyes as an involuntary whimper issued from her throat.
Her nipples hardened beneath her new dress, her breasts swelling, straining the fragile buttons that held the bodice together. His gaze dropped to the rapid rise and fall, then returned slowly to her eyes. That single, hungry look electrified her. She wanted to beg him to kiss her, stroke her, fuck her until she couldn’t move.
“You should be outlawed,” she told him desperately as the hand that rested on the table moved to encase hers.
His long fingers caressed the sensitive skin of her wrist as the hand at her back began to rub several inches of her spine slowly. She wanted to arch against him, like a cat begging to be rubbed.
“How scared are you, Sarah?” He repeated his question, his expression intent as he watched her. “And be very certain that you tell the truth this time.”
Her chest tightened at his warning. He still wanted her. She could see it in his darkening eyes, feel it in the heat radiating off his body. Just like before. He enclosed them in his sexual need, his determination to have her. His hunger for her.
“Not scared enough,” she admitted desperately. “But scared, Brock. Real scared.”
She wouldn’t lie to him this time. Not now, not while she needed him like this. Like a hunger, an obsession that stole her breath. His hand rose to her neck, beneath the soft fall of her hair, cupping the back of her head as he urged her to look into his eyes once again.
“I won’t stop this time, Sarah,” he told her gently, but the expression on his face was savage. “Do you understand me? If I get your panties off again, I’ll fuck you, no matter how hard you cry. I won’t have the control to let you go.”
She had cried before. As he rose over her, his erection nudging the slick heat between her thighs, she had begged him to let her go as she pushed against his chest, fighting to be free. She remembered how hard he fought for control. The head of his cock had buried inside her before he jerked away, cursing her, raging at her as she scrambled to her feet, jerked her dress on and stumbled from his room.
“I won’t beg you to stop.” That was all she could promise.
His jaw clenched, satisfaction flaring in his eyes. His hand went from the table to her thigh. She jerked in startled awareness as it moved slowly beneath her dress. A test? She swallowed hard, her chest suddenly tight, her breathing harsh as his fingers inched up her thigh. She looked into the crowd nervously, wondering who could see.
“No one can see what I’m doing, Sarah,” he promised her, his voice husky, throbbing with passion.
A test? A passionate form of torture to see how serious she actually was? With Brock, anything was possible. She knew his sexual excesses were whispered of, much as the demons of old once were. Hushed whispers, as though speaking them clearly would bring them to life. He, like his two brothers, was Madison’s favorite topic of gossip.
“Would you care if they did?” She blinked, her lips parting to fight for breath as those diabolical fingers inched forward.
They were hot on her skin, the slight friction making her muscles clench with the need for more. She would never get enough of his touch and she knew it.
“I would only care if another man actually saw what is mine now, Sarah,” he told her ruthlessly. “Make no mistake. You run into the arms of another man to escape me again, even that ineffectual husband of yours, and blood will be shed.”
She shivered. She swallowed tightly. Blinking up at him she tried to make sense of the possessive light filling his suddenly darkened gaze. This wasn’t right, she thought. One night. That was all she wanted. She needed closure to the memory that haunted her day and night. She couldn’t handle more. She wouldn’t allow it to become more. She would have protested his statement, but as her mouth opened and she felt his fingers moving closer to the throbbing center of her body, her eyes widened.
They were a bit calloused, warm. They drew intriguing designs above her knee, then upward to her thigh. His thumb rubbed in silky circles, causing her breath to catch on a low moan as his fingers reached the edge of her panties. Her blood thundered with excitement, with the forbidden.
“Easy now.” He gripped her thigh, tugging at it as he urged her to scoot down on the seat marginally.
“Brock.” Her small protest was one of feminine fear.
She was riding an edge, close to the barrier of common sense and insanity where her lust for this man was concerned. It terrified her to think of the lengths she would go to, this one night, to fulfill the fantasy of him possessing her body.
“I just want to touch you, Sarah,” he whispered at her ear. “That’s all, just touch. I promise not to embarrass you.”
She moved forward, his hand stopping her as her buttocks neared the edge. Satisfaction glittered in his gaze as the hand behind her urged her to settle against the back of the chair. Sarah looked up at him wanting to beg him not to do this. Not here, where everyone could see.
“No one can see, Sarah,” he promised her. “Just sit here a minute, that’s all.”
