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I bet Jean knows.
She stops twirling and her upper teeth dig into her lip. “Looked your fill yet?”
There’s some feistiness in her voice and I shudder on the inside, because now she reminds me of the girl I saw out in the field. Persistent, passionate and that’s the girl that intrigued me. She seems more subservient now but I shouldn’t complain. I want her either way, and if she wants to make this easier on me then fine.
“N...not that you’re not allowed to look as much you please,” she stutters.
“That’s good to know.” There’s annoyance in my voice and I think she can tell, but I don’t like how fast she backtracked. If she’s trying to please me then the best thing she can do is be herself. I’ve never liked pretense, or people who mold themselves into whatever others want them to be. But I don’t know how far I can push, and if I push too far she might decide it’s not worth the hassle and bail.
“Come on over to me,” I say, curling a finger. A flush spreads over her chest and crawls all the way up to her face. I wonder where else on her body she’s blushing and my temples start pounding. “Slower,” I add when she walks too fast and she lets out a small gasp.
“Yes sir,” she rasps and electricity rips between us, making the whole room tremble and I’m dying to get my hands on her. I’d be lying if I said, I don’t enjoy telling her what to do and I straighten, waiting for her to come to me.
She circles the coffee table, then jerks and a smile lights up her face, as if she just remembered that she needs to look eager and welcoming. Those legs of hers are going to spread for me and I’m going to want them wide. Sliding a hand down her hip to seduce me (as if she hasn’t already), she stops in front of me and I look down at her.
The light in the room is dim, the candles flicker and the scent mixes with hers. I almost wish she hadn’t lit them, because I don’t want her smell to be diluted. Her chest trembles a little, as if her breath is rattling in there and I raise a hand, stroking my knuckles down her arm. I only touch the sleeve but I can feel her warmth through the fabric. My brows knot when I get the feeling that she’s sacrificing herself for something but for what, I don’t know.
“You’re allowed to kiss me if you want,” she says. Impatience flares in her eyes and now I’m getting agitated.
She sounds as if she just wants to get this over with and while I have no intention of making love to her, I still don’t want things to get ugly between us. I don’t want her to feel used or abandoned once I’m done, even if this is just an arrangement.
“Later,” I reply, trying not to growl and for now, I just brush her hair away from her shoulder and she shivers a little. Scowling, I ask, “Are you scared of me?”
“No, I know a ton of men just like you.” She says it without flinching, looking straight into my eyes.
A smile covers my face. “Not quite like me.”
Her features twist in a grimace as if she’s a girl that has accepted her fate. “Whatever you want, it’s yours. I mean it.” Her lower lip trembles. “I’m not going to say no to you.”
Brave of her and her willingness is convenient. I didn’t come here expecting anything, other than that she doesn’t fall through on her part.
I’m here for her body. I don’t want or need anything else and yet I’m fuming now. I’m on edge, disturbed because she’s doing this precisely because it’s an agreement. And not because she wants to.
Three
Jean
This isn’t going to be as difficult as I thought.As desperate as I am, I don’t think I’d be willing to sleep with a man who repulses me but Carter doesn’t repulse me one bit. He’s attractive in that sort of James Bond/Conan the Barbarian type of way and that look in his eyes...the one that first worried me-it intrigues me now.
And I’m calmer now that I potentially won’t screw this up. Carter seems pleased with my looks and the air electrifies whenever we’re close. His face may be brutal but his chest looks inviting. Strong, brave, protective... I wonder what it would feel like to fall asleep on it.Whoa...calm down, Jean. Blackwater boys, don’t do the cute stuff and this is just business.
My eyes rise, traveling up his stubbled jaw, and the firm lips until finally landing on his eyes. They have both green and blue in them. I flinch, noticing his expression is agitated as if he’s getting cranky and his muscles tense. Concern flares in me and I wonder if I said something wrong, but all I said is that I wouldn’t say no. Shouldn’t he be thrilled?
I know mercenaries have very little patience. They don’t have time to dine and wine women, especially not the ones like Carter. We’re here to scratch his itch and I feel my cheeks burn at the thought. I’m here to serve him so why isn’t he ordering me to serve him? Maybe I’m supposed to make the first move? My fingers tingle when I wonder whether I should just reach up and touch him, put my hand on his heart or something but I don’t dare.
What if he bites it off?
Deciding to go down the safe route, I lick and pucker my lips, waiting for him to press his mouth against mine and I close my eyes. Nothing happens. Cracking a lid, I notice Carter is glaring at me.
“Something wrong with your lips?” he grits between his teeth and my pride takes a hit. I forget all about needing to be sensual and seductive.
“What?” I clip. “You don’t like the duckface?”
As soon as the words escape me, I regret them. This is not a man you talk to that way.
His brows rise and the corners of his mouth suddenly twitch, softening those rugged features somewhat and warmth pools in my lower belly. Like this, he seems a lot more approachable and if he orders me to go into the bedroom, I’ll sashay right inside and put myself on display.
“Jean...,” he rasps in a low voice and I nod breathlessly, “go sit on the couch.”
