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Looking down at her, seeing the concern in her eyes as she absorbed what he’d said about the present, he wanted to take her so badly, claim her so badly, it hurt.
‘Why did you never have a birthday gift before?’ she asked gently.
He could hear the compassion and it crucified him. He shrugged. ‘I don’t live like that. All neat and pretty.’
He turned, stared blankly out the window at the gathering dusk, the darkening red of sunset mirroring his own shadowed thoughts. He couldn’t look at her and tell her the truth. ‘I do what I want, when I want. I don’t have a family. I don’t need one. Nobody’s going to tie me down. That’s the way I like it.’
Jessie could hear the defiance, the desperation in his words. She had been right, was all she could think. He was lonely and he was scared.
No wonder he hadn’t been able to take Linc’s present. It had meant something to him he didn’t understand. It meant love and trust and affection. All things he’d spent most of his life without. He was always so sure of himself, so cocky. But beneath that was a good, caring man who needed things that he seemed determined to deny himself.
Jessie had a huge well of love inside her that she wanted to give to someone. And here was a man who needed it. She wouldn’t ask herself why Monroe denied love, denied family. It was enough for now to know he needed her and she needed him.
She’d been falling in love all along—and now she knew why.
He was the one she’d been waiting for. He was everything she’d ever wanted, standing there before her. So handsome, so vulnerable and so confused. Taking the next step now was all that mattered. The rest of it would sort itself out in time.
‘Everybody needs family, Monroe,’ she said softly.
He swung around, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Damn it. Don’t you get it? I used you. I saw something I wanted, so I went after it.’ His voice was rough with self-loathing. ‘You heard what I said when I jumped you at the party. I’ve been planning this all along. Getting you to like me. Getting you to trust me. It was all just a damn game so I could get you into bed.’
She laughed, the mix of arousal and excitement making her light-headed. He wanted her. ‘If that was the plan, you seem to be mucking it up a bit now.’
‘What?’ His mouth dropped open.
She stepped forward, drew her hands up his chest, wrapped her fingers around his neck. He smelt wonderful—linseed oil, turpentine and the musky smell of man. He felt even better. The hard, rigid muscles of his chest quivered against her breasts, as if he were a racehorse, ready to leap out of a starting gate. She had the power. For the first time, she was the one in control.
‘You know, Monroe.’ Her voice came out on a soft purr; she heard him swallow. ‘It was really nice of you to do all the work, up to this point.’ She caressed the back of his neck, threading her fingers through the soft hair of his nape.
He shuddered.
‘But it looks like I’m going to have to take over now,’ she said.
He pulled her into his arms, forcing her hard against him. ‘You’re playing with dynamite, Red. I’m no saint.’ Slowly, he drew his palms up her sides, his thumbs caressing the swell of her breasts through the linen of her dress. ‘If you keep on going the way you are, I’m going to have you and to hell with the consequences.’
She drew in a sharp breath at the harsh demand on his face. The fire in his eyes made her knees go to jelly, but she kept her voice steady. ‘Promises, promises.’
The teasing words were barely out before his lips cut her off. He feasted on her mouth, thrusting his tongue in as his hands came up to fist in her hair. She began to shake, her breath gushing out when he lifted his head.
‘Are you sure about this?’ he rasped in her ear, his voice low and barely controlled. ‘You’ve got to be sure.’ His lips skidded up her neck as he spoke.
‘I’m positive,’ she murmured.
His lips covered hers again. His tongue probed, demanding entry. Her mouth opened, allowing him to explore her, to devastate her.
He stopped, rested his forehead on hers. ‘I want to look at you, Red.’
His fingers came up in a brief caress, then he tugged the straps off her shoulders, pushed the dress down to her waist. She pulled her arms free.
Nudging the lacy cup of her bra down, he bent his head to watch as he exposed her breast. Fire flared in her belly, flooding between her thighs. His lips, hot and insatiable, closed over the swollen peak, suckled strongly. Her breath caught as the arrow of lust shot down to her centre.
Fumbling, he released the clasp, pulled the bra off. He stood back, holding her away from him. She flushed as his eyes devoured her body, naked from the waist.
‘You’re beautiful, Red,’ he murmured. He cupped the ripe breast in callused palms, rubbed his thumbs over the engorged nipples. She went lax under his stroking hands. The heat was so intense now, she felt she might faint.
He pulled the dress down the rest of the way, taking her hand as she stepped free on teetering legs. He hooked his finger in the thin cotton of her panties and ripped them off. She gasped, totally exposed before him, drifting beyond pleasure to panic.
Lifting her limp body high in his arms, he stalked to the sofa, laid her down. She watched him, dazed and unsure, as he stripped off his jeans. He seemed savage, overwhelming all of a sudden. What had she done?
