Ice formed beneath her skin, so freezing cold that it burned like blue fire. Her muscles tightened to the point of pain. She focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out. Just a little tug and her hand would be free. Nothing could contain her. She’d made sure of that. He might harness a lot of power in that muscular frame, but she didn’t sense that he would use it on her. Unless she asked. Which she sure as hell would not.
Her brain commanded her to pull out of his grip, but her body wouldn’t obey. She focused back on the window, zeroed in on the patch of gray sky visible through the glass. “Please let go,” she whispered, furious when her voice shook.
He dropped her hand like it was on fire. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Eyes seeing too much. Discarding theories, thinking of new ones. Like he knew a damn thing about what was wrong with her. Half the time, she didn’t know.
“My name is Connor.”
Erin went still. Inside and out. She felt warm all of a sudden, like someone had draped a fleece blanket over her shoulders. If she thought she’d had him at least partially pegged, she’d been wrong. He didn’t have to give in to their silly name war. He’d done it because she’d shown a chink in her armor and he wanted to give her a victory.
Connor.
“What about a tiny little kiss?” Shit. Where had that come from? “No tongue.”
“This isn’t summer camp.” Those hands clenched. Unclenched. “If you want to kiss me, you’ll get everything. I’m not going to hold back.”
His gruff tone made her shiver. That voice held promises she couldn’t begin to interpret. It had been so long since she’d let a man touch her, but she knew instinctively that Connor would be a whole new experience. One she definitely wasn’t ready for and never would be. Still. She felt…gravitated to him. She’d originally leaned across this conference table to unnerve him. It worked with most people. Invade their personal space until they back off for good. Now that she was this close to him, though, she found herself wanting to stay there. It didn’t hurt that he’d released her hand without hesitation. Maybe it was premature or bad judgment on her part, but his action had made her feel safe. She didn’t feel safe very often, if ever.
Deciding to trust the instinct that rarely failed her, she climbed onto the table and crawled on her hands and knees the remaining distance. Connor’s facade slipped just a little, lips parting on a gravelly exhale, broad chest shuddering as he watched her. “That wasn’t a challenge,” he grated.
“Everything we’ve said so far has been a challenge.” Erin knew he liked what he saw as his gaze ran the length of her back, snagging on her ass. She gave it a quick shake. He groaned low in his throat, and she was shocked to find herself excited by it. “Kiss me. Just…don’t touch me, okay?”
“Jesus.” He dragged both hands down his face. “You’ve got the wrong guy for that, sweetheart.”
Of course, that made her want the kiss even more. She was drawn to fire. Connor had enough inside him to burn down a major city. The fact that he kept such a tight leash on it only made her want to watch it crackle and race. “I didn’t say I couldn’t touch.” She gripped the collar of his shirt and dragged him forward, bringing their mouths an inch apart. “Just you.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll make you beg for my goddamn hands on you.”
Ah, Connor. You have no idea what you’re up against. “You’re welcome to try.”
As if he wanted to reassure her, but the need to do so pissed him off, he seized the table’s edge with such obvious strength, the wood groaned beneath her. After a blistering perusal of her body, he brushed their mouths together once, before running his tongue along the seam of her lips. The room blurred around them. Oh. Oh wow.
Out of the corner of her eye, a figure loomed in the doorway. “Well I guess the ‘getting to know each other’ phase is under way.”
Chapter Two
Connor shot forward to block the girl from the newcomer’s view. She’d gotten up on that table for him, and no one else got to enjoy the scenery. No one but him. His hands reached out of their own volition to drag her off the table and set her behind him.
They grasped at thin air.
Panic flared for two reasons. One, he didn’t like taking his eyes off the man framed in the doorway when his identity hadn’t been established. He’d been told to expect a roomful of convicts, after all. He needed to know who posed a threat and he wanted to know immediately. Especially now, when the threat could be directed at the girl. Two, not being able to touch her made him anxious. Ridiculous, really, since he’d only held her wrist and she’d nearly had a full-blown breakdown. It had only made him want to touch her more. Smooth out the fear with his hands. Gentle her. Tame her.
Connor whipped his head around, needing to get eyes on her. She gave him a pinkie wave from her chair. How had she moved so fast? And dammit, how could she look so serene when the barest hint of contact with her mouth had shot electricity down his spine?