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“It was a long shot,” he said. “But since you asked, that’s why I gave a shit.”
The knot in her throat reached critical mass. Tears spilled out.
He looked dismayed. “Oh, shit. Please. I shouldn’t have told you.”
She tried to choke it back. “I’m so sorry. Was she—”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I think about it as little as possible, or else it drives me bugfuck. Forget I said anything.”
His words knocked her back. “OK,” she whispered. “I just meant…I wish I could fix it. I wish there was something I could do. To help.”
His unreadable gaze slid over her bedraggled, torn up, something-the-cat-dragged-in self. “There is something,” he said.
She brightened, mopping away tears with her forearms. “Really? What can I…” Her voice faltered as her body translated what lurked in the hooded depths of his eyes.
Something tightened in answer, low and hot in her body.
How could she even think about sex, after what had happened?
But she was. Oh, she would. In a heartbeat. She ached to grab onto him. He was so strong and solid, seething with energy. So hot.
Of course, she wanted to grab onto anything strong. She felt so vulnerable and scared. She was desperate for comfort, but this man wouldn’t give her any comfort. He was anything but comforting.
He would take, and take, until she was all used up. She could feel his hunger from across the room. And she felt so fragile.
She inched back with instinctive female caution. His eyes narrowed. “For fuck’s sake, cut the scared kitten routine. I won’t force you. I may be an asshole, but I’m not that kind of asshole.”
Her back straightened up. “I’m not a scared kitten.” She tried to sound dignified, and ended up sounding stiff. “I just thought you were referring to something I could do that was, well, important. Not just…” She cleared her throat, with some difficulty. “…ah, opening my legs.”
“Believe me. You opening your legs feels pretty goddamn important right now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, a flush of anger heating her from the inside. “Sure it does. Until your hard-on’s taken care of. Then you’ll brush me off like the useless, inconvenient piece of fluff that you think I am, and off you’ll go, to do whatever dangerous crap you do all day, and forget that I even exist.”
He looked cautiously amazed. “Whoa. What, do you feel left out of the action? You mean you actually want to participate in more of this suicidal bullshit? Haven’t you had enough?”
“That’s not the point!” she raged. “I’m just sick of feeling like a…a thing! A toy to be used and passed around!”
He moved so fast, it felt like a split instant. She was across the room from him, and suddenly, her shoulders were clamped in his tight grip. He was lifting her up off her feet and onto her tiptoes.
Her eyes were inches from his searing gaze.
“I never passed you to anyone,” he said, his voice deliberate. “I never treated you like a thing. I killed four men tonight trying to get you out of that hellhole. So you can just back off.”
Her mouth worked, but no words came out. She just stared at his face, immobilized by the anger burning in his eyes.
“Do not blame me for what he did to you,” he said.
“I—I d-don’t blame you,” she stammered.
“Yeah? You don’t? Good. What’s your fucking problem, then?”
She stiffened in his grip, bracing herself by grabbing his broad wrists. “My problem is that look you’ve got on your face, you jerk!” she shouted. “I messed you up, so now I owe you? You saved my life, so I have to give you sex? Is that your macho reasoning?”
A smile touched the edges of his mouth. He set her onto her feet.
“It’s simpler than that,” he said. “My macho reasoning is, every time I touch you, you can’t stop coming.”
The rest of her furious diatribe dissolved in her muddled mind, utterly forgotten.
