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“You’re a liar.”
She saw the exact moment when she won. His head came up, and his lips thinned. “All right then. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He caught her arm and steered her across the room toward a ramp, not exactly dragging her, but coming close. They went up the slope, through an arch, up another ramp. She wanted to slow down. “Jake…”
“Shut up, okay?”
“I want to—”
“I don’t.”
He led her into the master bedroom, which had the biggest bed she’d ever seen. It rested on a platform directly beneath an enormous skylight. He scooped her in his arms, just like in her daydreams, climbed the two steps, and dropped her in an unceremonious heap on the gray and black satin spread.
“Last chance, Flower,” he growled, his expression forbidding. “Before we hit the point of no return.”
She refused to move.
“Okay, kiddo.” He crossed his arms over his chest and pulled off his sweatshirt. “It’s time to play with the big boys.”
Her grip tightened on the coverlet. “Jake?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re making me nervous.”
He opened the snap of his jeans. “Tough.”
He was still trying to scare her away, and he whipped off his jeans. Seconds later, he stood at the bottom of the bed, clad only in a pair of black briefs. She wished he were wearing friendly white cotton, or something baggy and faded like his swim trunks. She’d seen his chest a dozen times, but never so much of his stomach. It was flat and solid, taut, sculpted muscle. Her gaze dropped to the forbidding vertical shaft the briefs were too small and too tight to conceal.
“You’re overdressed.”
He wanted her to back off, but she wouldn’t. He needed to understand exactly how tough she was.
His hand shackled one of her ankles, and her toughness began to dissolve. He untied her sandal and pulled it off, then did the same with its mate. His eyes lingered on her exposed skin. She pushed herself into the pillows. He was so grim. “I don’t want it to be like this,” she said.
His eyes touched her breasts, her hips, swept down her legs. “Too bad.” He leaned forward and tugged open the tie at the top of her dress.
“I’d rather not—”
He caught her by the shoulders and drew her up into a kneeling position.
She gulped. “I think we should—”
He whipped the little string dress over her head. “I’m sick of playing the good guy around you. From the day we met…” He reached for the hem of her slip.
She pushed his hand away. “Not like this. This isn’t how I want it to be.”
“We’re playing by grown-up rules now.” He tugged on her slip and pulled it free of her hair. She was kneeling on the bed in nothing but panties and her swaying gold hoops.
“Now I can see all those parts of you I had to pretend not to look at on Friday.”
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“I know what you’re trying to do, and I won’t let you. I won’t let you make this bad for me.”
His voice was tight and hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She curled her hands at her sides. “You’re trying to ruin this. You want to keep this from being important.”
“It’s isn’t important.” The mattress sagged under his weight. He covered her body with his own, and reached beneath them to tug off her panties. “It’s fun. That’s all.” His fingers found her, their touch almost clinical. “Do you like the way this feels?”
