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“You son of a bitch!” she fumed.

Another squeeze on the butt. “Baby girl, that happens to be your future mother-in-law you’re insulting.”

“That’s the lamest proposal I’ve ever heard, and this is from a man who only talks bullshit!”

He gave her a third, harder squeeze on the butt that burned her skin and set her cunt on fire. “By all means, get that off your chest, baby. In about thirty seconds, I’ll have my tongue in your mouth and you won’t be able to breathe!”

They entered a completely different floor than the one where he’d hosted his party, and he stalked down a long hall, crossed what she supposed was a bedroom, and swept her down on the center of a massive king bed.

She shook her head, panting and dizzy, and then she slammed a fist onto his chest, sure that her hair was tangled, her face was red, and her emotions were all over the place.

“You!” she screeched, but the look in Luke’s eyes as he yanked off her coat and tossed it aside made her heart pound and her blood storm like liquid lightning in her body. Wanting rippled in her vagina.

Because she knew with frightening certainty that Luke was not joking here.

He was as sober, as deadly serious, as she’d ever seen him. He yanked off his sweater with so much obvious sexual intent to have his way with her that she began to tremble on the bed.

Lust swirled around her, impossible to deny. She started to edge backward but he lunged forward and pinned her down wearing only his jeans, his hands manacles on her wrists, his chest bare and so sexy that her throat ached.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, stiffening against the tingle of heat that surged deep inside her belly.

“Shh. Listen to me. Listen.” His eyes were wild with a powerful mixture of desire and frustration, and Peyton kept panting beneath him, getting wet. Wanting him. Needing him. Hating him. “We’re going to make love right now, Peyton. On this bed. And we’re going to work this through. Whatever shit is your problem, I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to take care of you.”

She fought to be released. “You’re my problem, you womanizing…”

His hands clenched to still her. “Damn it, listen to me. Deep down I knew one day I would regret sleeping with all those women.” His slate-blue eyes silently demanded that she understand. “And if I could do things differently now I would, I swear to God. But I can’t undo what I’ve already done, and at that time, I could never think of a reason not to.”

When he loosened his hold, she sucked in a breath and edged back on the bed, her heart heavy in her chest. “Don’t pretend I mean something, Luke,” she said weakly.

Jaw tight, he tangled his fingers at her nape and pulled her to him. “Not something. Everything.”

He crushed her lips and kissed her, fast and hard, and when he pulled back, his eyes were the darkest, stormiest sky she’d ever seen, robbing her of her breath.

“I’m not denying myself another single fucking minute of being with you. Not even for a minute. Not even a second. The only person I’ve been bullshitting is myself—thinking you didn’t change everything for me. Everything.”

A deluge of need flooded her. She wanted him too much, she wanted it to be true too badly. “You’re a player, Luke, you want me because you can’t have me, you—”

“No!” His eyes were knives carving into her heart. “I want you because I know what it is to have you. I want you because I know what you’re like, and I want more, more of all of you, not just your body…I want you. And I know you want me, Peyton. God, I know you’re wild about me, I can feel you trembling against me. I can see how much you need me.”

He coasted his hands down her sides, his touch so heartbreakingly familiar, so right, a rush of tremors slid down her spine.

Her lungs strained as she tossed her head in denial, fear and want colliding in her chest. “I don’t want to feel like this, Luke.”

“But you do—we both do. Damn, Peyton, you’ve turned me into a fucking puppy like my friend Graves. Do you think I like it? Just throw me a bone here, baby.”

He caressed her cheeks and scraped his mouth desperately over hers, cupping her face within his hands, and she felt herself weaken, all her defenses demolished by his touch, his words. Him.

“Luke…”

“I love you.” He kissed her softly, tenderly, just with his lips. “I love you, Peyton.” He kissed her again, angling his head, still no tongue, his voice rough, his smile gone from his face. “Do you realize how many times I’ve said this to anyone in my life? Do you? Not once. Not to my father, not to my mother, but I’ll say it to you as many times as you want to hear it.”

Her eyes blurred. “Oh, God, say it again.”

He caught her hands and raised them over her head, manacling them in one hand while he subdued her with his weight. He looked into her eyes. “I love you.” He watched her face as he gathered the fabric of her skirt up to her hips, and then slid a hand between her trembling thighs, searching beneath her folds. A gasp tore out of her.

“Luke…”

He covered her lips, his tongue taking control, delving and coaxing out a helpless moan from her. “I want you.” He unbuttoned the top buttons of her jacket, then proceeded with the blouse beneath, pulling down the lace of her bra to reveal her breast. “I need you.”

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