What the hell was he doing?
She’s been hurt. Careful, no frenzy allowed. She suckled at his tongue as he thrust in her, and her slender white legs wrapped around his waist. Okay, maybe a little frenzy. He groaned and rubbed the hard length of his erection against the sweet welcoming arc of her pelvis. He wanted to palm those beautiful breasts of hers and tongue that gold ring at her navel. He wanted to spread her out and feast on her with the intensity of a starving man.
Delicate fingers dug into his short wet hair. He felt the tiny prick of fingernails in his scalp like kitten claws. He wanted them raking down his naked back. He wanted her to draw blood as she screamed and climaxed in his arms. Her breath came in jagged spurts. She was burning up, but violent shivers began to shake through her small frame.
Sanity bulldozed its way into his thick skull. He dragged his mouth away from hers with a harsh gasp, tilting his head up to the rain as he tucked her face into his neck. “Goddammit,” he hissed. “I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are,” she muttered. “Not one single thing has gone right for me today. Why should this be any different?”
He glared down at the top of her head. What the hell did she mean by that?
She pushed her nose into the hollow where his neck met his shoulder as her trembling increased. Too many things were happening in her body. The knife wound felt like it was on fire. She was so hot yet freezing at the same time. Weakness invaded her limbs, and the sharp, empty ache between her thighs had crazy thoughts running through her head, like how easy it would be to unzip his fatigues and take that swollen, hard cock in her hand. Like how much she wanted to explore the strange sensual terrain of his flesh and pump him until he spilled all over her. Her breath hitched.
Headlights swept over them as a car approached. He scooped her out of the driver’s seat, carried her around and deposited her in the passenger’s seat. Then he strode back, climbed in the driver’s side and started the SUV so that he could park it by the side of the road. The engine was already warm, so he turned the heater on full blast before he turned to her again.
She was a bedraggled mess. The manipulative sex kitten had turned into a half-drowned rat. Her black hair glittered wet and sleek against the graceful curve of her skull, and those gorgeous erect nipples of hers, God help him, were dark raised pebbles underneath that porno T-shirt. She was shaking visibly. Grinding his teeth, he leaned past her to reach for one of the shopping bags she had thrown onto the passenger’s seat floor. Not caring what he grabbed, he pulled out an item of clothing and began to stroke her wet bare arms and legs with it.
She muttered, “I had this whole thing going a lot differently in my head.”
“I hardly dare to ask,” he said. His white teeth bit at the air.
“For one thing, I was going to retain control of the car,” she said. Her teeth chattered. She pushed his hand away. “There you go, being nice again. Stop it.”
“What, you prefer abuse?” he growled. “That can be arranged. Just keep pushing at me, faerie.”
“Pushing you.” She snorted a laugh. “Don’t tempt me. You haven’t even seen me get started.”
He cocked a sleek, sardonic eyebrow at her. “I’m actually afraid you might be right about that.”
She grabbed the sweatpants from his hand and began to dry herself off. The material was thick and absorbent. She would have shrugged and slipped them on except she thought the twist of movement needed to pull them over her hips would hurt too much. Instead, she dug one of the T-shirts out of the bag.
Tiago’s hands came over hers.
“I know you’re hurting,” he said, dropping his bad-tempered attitude for the moment. He had a powerful battlefield voice, deep and rich and penetrating, but now it was throttled down to just a dark murmur that was so gentle it shook her soul. “Let me help you.”
He was right; she was hurting, and she was still trembling like a leaf. She bit her lips and nodded. He eased the shirt on, guiding the arm on her injured side. She managed to say, “Thank you.”
“Where were you going, anyway?” he asked.
“I want pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.” She sniffed as she spread the sweatpants over her lap for the warmth.
“You left to get breakfast.” The flatness of his voice and the cynical expression on his harsh features said he didn’t believe her.
She rolled her eyes. She told him, “I left to get away from you.”
“You must still be drunk if you thought you could give me the slip,” he snapped. “You didn’t have a chance in hell.”
Well, no. She opened her eyes very wide. “I got your car and your gun when you weren’t looking, didn’t I?”