Chapter Eighteen
Juniper
A bruptly turning me back around, he pushed the door open and issued an order with mind-bending dominance. “Step inside.”
“This is a bad idea.” And I wanted to breathe in every second of it.
“I’m not your conscience, woman. You want to fuck, walk into the house. You want me gone, say the word. Either way, this doesn’t go beyond tonight. You get here and now from me. That’s it.”
My core pulsed. “You could be a serial killer.”
“So could you.”
Instead of pointing out the distinct physical advantage he had over me or the very large gun he had on him, I stupidly confessed. “This isn’t my house.”
“You have a key.”
“My friend gave it to me.” But now she was definitely gone, because I could see her suitcase wasn’t where she’d left it.
“What’s her name?”
“I didn’t say it was a her.” Not that he hadn’t already seen me with Reena. And for all I knew, the person he’d said he was looking for could be Reena’s Charlie. I hadn’t even asked Reena which branch of the military Charlie was in because I didn’t want her to catch on that I was someone who would ask that sort of thing. But her Charlie could be Navy. This guy could be looking for him. There could be a thousand reasons why Charlie didn’t want to be found, and I was stupid enough to let the entire improbability whip into a twisted frenzy of fear that catered directly to my sickness. Same as that split second when he’d jumped the curb, the bullets were flying, and he’d barked out a command—I could taste the danger.
“Guys don’t give out keys to women like you.”
Insecurity bloomed over the high of fear and temporarily snuffed it out. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Guys don’t give keys to stacked chicks they aren’t fucking. If you were getting fucked the way you need it, you wouldn’t be all over my shit.”
The way you need it . Oh God. “I….” My voice cracked, and a different kind of shame, one I couldn’t deal with, took hold. “I am not all over you.” I couldn’t be. That was the point. To not give in—until I did. But by then, it would be too late, and I’d have no control. That was why the very, very few times I had done this, it was all by design. It was also why I’d made sure he’d started it. He’d said I wanted to be fucked first. I’d only responded. He had started this…. Hadn’t he?
“You’ve been eye fucking me since you saw my gun and uniform. Make a decision.”
Humiliation stomped on the mess in my head. “You can leave.”
He didn’t move.
Real fear rippled through my veins. “That means now.”
“You gonna let go of me, woman?”
I looked down.
Oh God.
My hands were still gripping him—his wrist, his forearm.
I swallowed shame and tasted need. Then I played with the devil and traced a vein that was covered in blue and black ink.
His stillness lasted exactly as long as it took my finger to read a line of his own personal braille.
Then his voice landed like an order. “Moving.” His other hand cupped on my hip, his body pressed against my back, and he propelled me into the dark house before kicking the door shut. “Lights?”
My eyes closed in intoxicating fear as desire spread like wildfire. “If you want.”
His fist hit the wall, the overhead light in the kitchen came on, and the hand that was on my hip moved to my throat. He pushed my head back until my face was tipped up and my neck was almost uncomfortably stretched.
My hair brushed against my ass, and I opened my eyes to his piercing stare as he looked down at me.
His thumb feathered across my jaw in a gentle caress that was in direct contrast to his tight grip on my throat. “Yes?”
He could snap my neck in a heartbeat. Needy, parched, I licked my lips. “Yes.”
His gaze darted to my mouth. “Limits?”
He was perfect. “None.”
His gaze cut back to mine. “Anything else you need to tell me?”
This moment was perfect. Almost. I just needed… “More.”
“Of?”
Oh God. Was I really going to tell him this? “I like it rough.”
“Copy. Safe word?”
Oh, no. No, no, no. “I don’t want one.”
“You need one.”
I needed to not be soaking my underwear with this conversation. “Please don’t make me pick one.”
“No or red light. Use either, and I stop. Copy?”
I didn’t want him to stop. Whatever he was doing now, it was already working. My head was floating, my body was tingling, and maybe those shots today hadn’t been the worst idea. Maybe Reena had known what she was doing when she’d said we’d need them before she left for… wherever she was now.
“I asked you a question, woman.”
I tried to nod.
He tipped my head back further. “Repeat what I said.”
I could barely speak with my neck stretched so far back. “No, red light. Use either, and you stop.”
“Correct. What’s your name?”
“I don’t have one.”
He studied me for a breathless moment. “Who lives here?”
The question was out of the blue, and it caught me off guard. I lied. “No one.”
“How did you get the key?”
“Does it matter?”
Ignoring my question, he abruptly switched subjects again. “Safe word?”
My core pulsed. “No or red light.”
He dropped his hold on me and stepped back. “Strip.”
Suddenly alarmed, I turned to face him. “What?”
“You heard me.”
I didn’t do that. “I’m not a stripper.” I wasn’t provocative or sexy. I didn’t know how to dance. I knew how to suck dick, stretch a dollar, and hide in plain sight.
“I’m not fucking you with your clothes on.”
Right. “Um. I need to get something.” I didn’t wait for another command. I opened the cabinet under the kitchen sink and pulled out my giant purse from its hiding place because robbers never looked under kitchen sinks. Then I rifled through it, and a moment later, I had what I needed.
Dropping my purse to the floor, I set a condom on the counter and glanced up at him.
Without a single change in his locked expression, he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, took out his own condom, and held it up for me to see.
It was twice the size of the one I had.