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Neither of them said a word during the drive to her place. The silence was far from comfortable, since the air was static with the same sexual energy that pulsed through her body. It was an honest to God relief when he pulled up outside the building.

As they climbed the stairwell, she was keenly aware of every move he made—the bunching and flexing of his muscles, the heated glances he sent her, the way his nostrils flared as he occasionally leaned in to inhale her scent. “Stop sniffing me!”

“Stop smelling like candy.”

And what could she say to that except … “You’re an idiot.”

Once they were inside her apartment, she headed straight to the kitchen. Mostly because it was the biggest room she had, which meant she could put a good deal of space between them.

Folding her arms, Devon lifted an expectant brow. Standing a few feet away, he stared at her and … God, he was just so intent on her. Snared her with a laser-focus that made her feel as if he saw no one else.

He planted his feet. “Time’s up, kitten. I need an answer.”

Swallowing hard against the impact of the rising sexual tension that was thickening the air, she tapped her arm with her nails. “A month is too long. One more night.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Another night won’t cut it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

God, he was so damn stubborn. “Forty-eight hours,” she tossed out.

“A month.” Tanner took a single step forward. “I intend to take you every way a man can take a woman. Need more than forty-eight hours for that.”

Well damn if her feminine parts didn’t pull out the pompoms. “Forty-eight hours is the most I’ll agree to.”

“A month,” he insisted.

Devon’s fingers flexed with the temptation to grip him by the throat and shake him. “If you’re not even willing to compromise, there’s no point to this conversation.”

He slanted his head. “Why don’t you want to give me a month? What are you afraid of, kitten?”

Honestly? That she’d get used to having him around. Devon relied on herself and met her own needs. A guy like Tanner would barge his way into her life and make a place for himself there. He’d insist on doing things for her, on being there for her, and on having her trust. He’d coax and push and badger and entice, set on having exactly what he wanted exactly when he wanted it. And then he’d leave, and she’d be alone again.

“I’m not keen on letting someone into my life who fully intends to walk straight back out of it once he’s had his fill of me,” she said.

Tanner felt his jaw harden. She made it sound as if he saw her as nothing more than a faceless fuck, which she had to know was pure bullshit. The truth was he’d never get his fill of her. “We can’t give each other anything more.”

“You wouldn’t even if you could,” she accused.

Tanner ground his teeth. Like most male hellhounds, he didn’t like being in relationships. Didn’t like having people interfering in his life or treading on his independence and freedom. He also wasn’t a person who leaned on people, trusted them with his feelings, or dropped his guard to “let them in.’” And females often didn’t like being with a guy who put his job before them. But … “I’d have given it my best shot.” Because it was her.

She sucked in a breath but said nothing.

Closing the distance between them, he idly played with one of her curls. “I’m calmer when I’m with you, you know. Like all the shit in my head just stops for a while. My role as sentinel takes up so much of my day that I find it hard to switch off from it. But you … I don’t know how you do it, but you make it all fall away. No one else has ever done that for me.”

Sighing, she lowered her arms. “Tanner—”

“If you think I wouldn’t want more of that in my life, you’re wrong. But our demons would never go for it. I can’t give you what’s not in my power to give.”

Looking a little off-balance, she licked her lips. “I know, I get it. I’m not turning you down out of spite. But the fact is all you want is impersonal, uncomplicated sex—that’s something you don’t need me for. My pussy isn’t magic or anything. There are billions of others out there.”

He breezed his fingers over her folds, feeling the heat of her pussy even through the denim of her jeans, and she almost jumped. “I want this one,” he said. “It’s snug and warm and fits my cock just right, almost as if it was made to take me.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s plaything.”

“You could never be just a plaything to me, kitten … although I do like to play with you.” Tanner grazed her lower lip with his teeth and gave it a sharp nip, breathing in her soft gasp, needing more. “Give me your mouth, baby.” He could have taken it, ravished it, but he needed that surrender from her; his demon needed it. She didn’t give it to them.

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