Men Of Honour. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
she pulled viciously at the restraints. He rested between her legs—was still inside her—but she tried to kick at him. The frenetic movements only managed to push him closer to the edge, making him groan.
She twisted beneath him. “Get off!”
Taken aback by her reaction, Jett gave her all his weight, pinning her down. He held her arms near the elbows, not wanting her to hurt herself. “If that’s not it, then why?”
Rancor had replaced the sexual haze. “You’re the hotshot private eye. You tell me.”
Usually, even under the worst circumstances, Jett could think fast, piecing together clues to come up with a viable answer to just about any problem. With Natalie, he stayed so damned confused, thrown off by overwhelming sentiment that half the time he didn’t know if he was coming or going.
Taking a guess, he said, “Not to have a fling, then?”
Her head lifted off the pillow so she could say right into his face, “I’m already having a fling, you ass!”
With him. But damn it, he wanted to move beyond that now. There wasn’t a single good reason for them not to be more social. He enjoyed dating. He wanted to take her to movies, to dinner…maybe to meet his family.
Shit.
He wasn’t seeing anyone else, and she claimed that she wasn’t either.
So why not?
Jett felt raw. “So this—” he pressed deep into her “—is enough for you?”
Dropping back again, she gave a broken laugh devoid of any humor. “It would be, if only you’d quit playing this stupid game and give me what I need.”
Ah, hell. Even furious, her voice shook with desire. They were both in a bad way. “I guess that’s my answer.”
She turned her face to glare at him. “Don’t you dare leave me like this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Going back up on stiffened arms, he let his gaze wander over her. Fury pulsed through his blood.
Fury…and something more.
“Look at you. You think I could give this up? Not a chance.” He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply. “I love fucking you.”
She gasped at the harsh words, and that gasp brought him a measure of sanity. He felt abusive and mean. Damn it, he knew Natalie held him at bay for a reason. Wasn’t that why he’d started the whole bondage thing to begin with?
Well, that, and the fact that he enjoyed having her sweet body to play with.
Taking several calming breaths that didn’t help one bit, Jett said carefully, “You’re afraid of something, aren’t you, honey?”
That did it. She went pale, rigid. “Untie me, Jett.” Her eyes glistened. She sniffed. “Right now.”
He would. Of course he would.
But those unshed tears wrenched his heart, even as his body throbbed.
He couldn’t leave her like this. “If I untie you now, you’ll storm out of here, mad and hurt.”
Unsatisfied.
She blinked away the tears. “And if I stay, it’ll be any different?”
Her breasts heaved in her ire, he was still inside her and they were both primed. It wouldn’t take much to give her full relief.
That is, if he could change her mind about leaving.
Jett looked at her breasts, at her tightened nipples. “Yeah, it will.” He lowered his head.
NATALIE SAW HIS INTENT, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist him if he put his hot mouth on her again. Hoping to forestall him, to salvage her pride, she blurted, “I’ve been used before, damn you, so don’t you dare.”
He paused, then his piercing gaze flashed up to clash with hers. “By who?”
Memories, dark and filled with humiliation, brought a smirk of disgust to her mouth. “Men who thought my father’s money was my own.”
He was quick to say, “Bastards.” And then, with his hands cupping her face and his expression filled with tenderness, he added, “But, honey, that’s not me. That could never be me.”
Despite being restrained, she put up her chin. “That’s what they all say.” She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t a fool. Not anymore. “I’d rather not take that chance.”
Jett flinched but rallied. “For just a moment, I’m going to forget you said that. Because, Natalie, when I look at you, I sure as hell don’t see any family affiliations or connected wealth. I see you, only you, and that’s enough for me.”
He sounded and looked sincere, so maybe it warranted some discussion. But now that the sexual encounter had soured, Natalie couldn’t bear the submissive position. “Untie me.”
Seconds ticked by. “You enjoyed it.”
“At first.” Being tied to Jett’s bed had been unbelievably exciting. “Until you ruined it.”
“Right.” His mouth tightened, his eyes narrowed. He looked at her breasts. “I could still—”
“No, you can’t.” Natalie didn’t look away from his obvious regret. “Once you brought up fear, being restrained took on a whole new meaning.”
His frustration wore on her until he finally reached beyond her to the headboard. She felt a tug on the restraint, it loosened and then she was free.
Jett didn’t move away from her. Holding a wrist in each of his big hands, he lowered her arms. His thumbs moved over her skin as if to soothe, when that wasn’t necessary. He hadn’t hurt her.
But she was insane with unfulfilled need. The skin of her wrists felt too sensitive beneath his thumbs. His scent, heightened by arousal, surrounded her. His thick erection filled her. And the heat of their bodies mingled together.
No other man had ever made her feel this way.
Even now, hurt by his accusation, angry at being manipulated, she trembled with wanting him.
She’d accepted her response to him as a chemical phenomenon; whatever Jett had, it worked for her. In a thousand different ways.
But this…this attempt to change things…
Did she dare even consider it?
No. If she tried it, he’d see her for a fraud. He’d know that her daring in bed was all an act. She wasn’t brave, or sensual or…free. She was a remote woman, socially inept, especially when it came to anything serious—like relationships.
Other than the kids she taught, and her sister, she felt out of place with most people.
Once again Jett seemed to read her thoughts. “Natalie.” He lifted her hands to his hard, sleek shoulders and, curving his hands around her head, held her as a lover would. “Stop looking like that. I’m not trying to drag you off to the gallows.”
“What are you trying to do?”
His long fingers kneaded her skull. “Just talk, honey, that’s all.”
“About personal things.” And at an inappropriate time, not that she ever afforded him a better opportunity.
“About you.”
“Why?” Men wanted sex. She gave him sex. God, sometimes she practically molested him. Why muddle things with conversation?
“It’s a good start. A natural progression.”
For what? Her brows furrowed. They’d talked before, of course, but not like this. Not about anything important.
Certainly not about her fear of commitment.