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James had managed to. He’d seen the real her. Had known it, probably better than she had herself.
James jolted her from her thoughts because, out of nowhere, his pace sped up. Before she knew what was happening, Mark was there, in front of her. She didn’t have time to even gasp when he’d pinned her to the wall, his hands settling at her hips, so he could rock his groin against hers. Bewildered anger flushed her as she started to hit him in the chest, demanding he let her loose.
“What the hell are you d—” She couldn’t get the words out because suddenly, his mouth was on hers, and he was thrusting his tongue between her lips.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, and she felt like puking as she recognized his ‘let’s get it on’ voice. “Not James Arias’. Nobody’s but mine,” he said, his tone attempting to be seductive, but, if anything, unappealing, because she’d never been his, she realized.
She’d always been James'. Even if she’d never admitted it to herself before now. Always without James having a clue.
That was the last straw.
“Mark!” she demanded. “Get the hell off me!”
He ignored her, instead, bowed his head and began nipping and suckling at her neck. He knew that was her go-to happy spot, and irritation rather than need flushed through her.
Why was he trying to turn her on?
Why the hell wasn’t he listening to her?
She stopped struggling, stopped writhing against the wall because it wasn’t getting anywhere, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the motion was exciting him because he thought she was into this.
Hell, if he didn’t stop soon, she’d puke over him.
That was one way to let him know she was pregnant, she guessed.
At her stillness, Mark moaned against her throat, “I knew you liked it like this. I knew it. I should never have held back.” His words were feverishly spoken into her throat, and they made her upper lip snarl with rage.
And that was when two things happened.
One, she kneed him in the balls. His words demanded no less.
Two, the door to the room caved in.
When her eyes clashed with James and Aidan’s, relief flooded her. It took her a second to realize that Mark was clutching his groin and writhing on the floor, which meant his hands were busy elsewhere and not on her.
“I’m nobody’s, certainly not yours. I’m not a possession!” she yelled at Mark. “Why do you never listen? No means no!”
James stormed across the room and gathered her in his arms while Aidan grabbed his cellphone and made a call. Within seconds, she realized he was calling the cops, and though she wanted this to be over, and didn’t want to press charges, she knew there was no convincing Aidan or James otherwise.
With a sigh, she sagged into James’ strength. “Thank you for coming but he didn’t do anything. The cops aren’t necessary,” she whispered into his chest.
A cocktail of emotions was battering her. Relief that he was here—that both of them were here. Astonishment that Mark hadn’t stopped when she’d demanded it of him.
Would he have taken it as far as forcing her to sleep with him?
From the confines of James’ strong embrace, she peered down at the man she’d been living with for the past eighteen months.
She couldn’t believe that of him, but he hadn’t stopped when she’d asked. That meant something. Nothing good.
“Just you let us handle this,” James told her softly, nuzzling his chin against her temple. With a sigh, she pressed herself deeper into James' arms, but she barely had time to settle there before Aidan was grabbing a hold of her and hugging her tightly. There must have been some silent man-speak going on overhead because after the transfer of her from one set of arms to the other was complete, James strode the few steps to Mark, bent down, and to her amazement, picked him up by his collar.
Was that even possible?
Then, she ignored her own stupid question because she’d just seen it with her own eyes. It was very possible. And her lover, the father of her child, was more than capable of protecting her from idiots who didn’t understand that no meant no.
A small part of her was smugly satisfied when she saw Mark’s reaction to James’ strength—sheer terror.
“You piece of shit,” he snapped, punching Mark square in the nose.
