I tightened my grip on her until she stopped wriggling. Her eyes widened as I pressed my lips against her throat, my beard rough against her skin. “You’re being such a brat,” I whispered. “You’re pushing all of my fucking buttons. Why?”
“Because I want to see what you’ll do to me. What will it be? Just bend me over and fuck me?” The corner of her mouth tugged. “Or are you going to chase me through the desert?”
She was taunting me.
But it was working.
“Do you even know what a safe word is?” I asked.
“Yes. Green-light system. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
My jaw stiffened. “I remember the face of every fucker you’ve dated, June. I don’t think a single one of them could fathom what I want to do to you.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “What do you mean, you remember?”
I scraped my teeth over the curve of her neck like a thirsty vampire. “I remember every single one.”
“Why?I barely even remember them?—”
“Why do you think?”
Her words came out as a single squeak. “I know you didn’t feel anything for me before?—”
“Of course I fucking did.”
June’s chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her legs still wrapped around my waist. My cock still pressed against her core. Heat radiated from her like a furnace. God, I was fucking leaking pre-cum, I was so damn hard.
“All this running away,” I whispered. “But I’m going to catch you. I swear to god I will always catch you, June. Maybe that kiss was a mistake because it’s given me nine months ofwishingI could kiss you again.”
I slowly let go over her. Her feet hit the floor and she stared up at me with wide eyes as I caged her in, my hands to either side of her.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I trust you with my life. And I know you trust me with yours.”
“Good. What’s your safe word?”
“Red means stop. Yellow means slow. Green means good.” She scowled at me, annoyance flickering in her expression. “So now what? Are you going to stand here and look at melike that?”
“Worse,” I snarled.
I took a step back from her, my nostrils flaring as I bent over and picked up her running shoes. I knelt down on one knee and gestured for her foot.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Give me your foot.”
“But what?—”
“Give me your foot.”
She stared at me with her mouth open, but lifted her foot. I slid it in her tennis shoe and checked the strings, retying them so it was secure. She was going to need them to be secure.
“Other foot.”
“Dallas . . .”
I grabbed her ankle and worked her other shoe on. Once I checked the laces, I released her and stood back up. I slipped on my boots. Then, without warning, I lifted her and tossed her over my left shoulder.
