Chapter 9 #2
“Who were the shooters? Does anyone know? Was anyone hurt?” Her face fell when she absorbed what he’d told her. “That’s horrible.” Her tone was deflated. “No idea? Okay. No, I’m fine. Just jarred. That’s all. Sure. We’ll talk Tuesday.”
When she was finished, she immediately handed me the phone, now chewing on her bottom lip.
There was so much contradiction in the woman.
She was all fury and fire one minute then pulled into a sense of fear and uncertainty the next.
This time she didn’t try to pull away when our fingers touched, even when I took a few seconds to brush the tip of my finger across her knuckles.
Her shudder was obvious and her eyelids were suddenly halfway closed. The way her long dark lashes skimmed her flushed cheeks was as powerful as the kiss we’d shared.
“What did he say about the identity of the shooters?” I clamped down my annoyance.
“They don’t know, at least not yet. They got away. The security system was off. Just off.”
Fucking fantastic. At least the information mirrored what had been discussed. With an unmarked van and no sight of the license plate, finding them would be impossible. “What else?”
“Four people are dead, including the one gunman. I knew one of the victims. She was… She was a clerk. She was the one person who took the time to show me the ropes the first week after I took the job. Without her help, I doubt I could have found any of the courtrooms. She didn’t deserve to die.”
“How admirable of you to say so.”
The brutal slap across my face I hadn’t seen coming.
“How fucking dare you. A woman is dead and you’re challenging me for what reason?
Being loyal to you? You wanted me to care about your father’s murder, which is a horrible thing, but you can’t have any respect for an innocent victim taken from her family and friends because of the twisted games you play? Fuck you, Alexander.”
While the slap stung, the annoyance was pushed into something entirely different by her words.
They would haunt my conscience far into the future, but her act I couldn’t ignore.
Nor the desire I refused to set aside.
I grabbed both her wrists, yanking them over her head. Her yelp was ignored as I took long strides, driving her against the wall. “I told you exactly what would happen if you said those words to me again. I always make good on my promises.”
Without giving her time to object, I crashed my mouth down on hers. Her lips parted immediately, allowing me to indulge in kissing her as every woman should be kissed.
As if a man was dying and the woman was the only hope of saving him.
I gladly took on the notion, wrapping one hand around both her wrists, keeping her from escaping. She wiggled in my hold, undaunted by the circumstances or the sheer difference in our physicality.
The taste of her was far too sweet for a man like me, a reminder of who and what I was. I captured every moan as I explored her mouth, relentless in my actions. She’d made me a crazed man, incapable of realizing what I was doing was wrong on any level.
Especially since her body was surrendering. She’d arched her back, trembling yet the heat radiating was as undeniable as her desire. I could feel it in my bones. The shockwave of longing was making me crazed, the hunger something I wouldn’t be able to resist.
It would be easy to do nothing more than to kiss her all night. The woman was all about righting wrongs, exposing corruption in a world full of criminals, yet her body was the one demanding to be corrupted.
I had every intention of doing so.
When I finally broke the kiss, I fisted her hair with my other hand, yanking until I exposed the long line of her neck.
Her eyes were closed, every inch of skin on her face shimmering from a rush of heat. The scent of her desire was stronger than mine.
“You bastard,” she muttered.
“Yes, I am.” The admittance seemed to surprise her and the expression of hatred returned if only for a little while.
Panting, she was doing everything in her power to ignore the connection, but the stiff peaks of her nipples were proof her hunger was as off the charts as mine. Her soft murmurs weren’t ones of hatred, but of her needs.
I dragged my tongue along the underside of her chin, taking my time as I explored every inch. She pursed her lips as if closing me off, but everything she was doing was enticing me more than before.
Every time she wiggled in my hold, flexing her hands or mewing from pleasure, my cock pushed against the stark confines of my trousers.
I crushed my body against hers, shifting back and forth so she was completely aware of what she did to me.
As my need to touch her only continued to grow, I released my hold on her hair, sliding my palm down her side.
She lowered her head, her chest heaving and with her eyes dilated, there was no doubt she was as entangled in the moment of passion as I’d become.
With her hot breath cascading across my face, I crawled my fingers under her skirt. The touch of her skin alone was enough to scald my fingers. She was far too enticing, too much for my control to handle.
Her mews turned to strangled moans when I slipped my finger under the elastic of her thong. The first swipe of the tip forced her eyes to open wide and she pushed herself onto her toes. The conflict was still there, a direct need to fight me with every ounce of strength she had.
“I don’t want you,” she managed.
“Your body tells me otherwise.” I went to kiss her again, maybe to provide her with the proof she needed when she captured my lower lip with her teeth. She bit down with enough force the taste of blood filled my mouth.
As before, her actions surprised me and I broke away from her. With anyone else I’d backhand them, but I couldn’t bear the thought of striking her beautiful face.
I pressed my fingers against my mouth just a split second before she bounded away. My God. This woman was going to drive me insane if she hadn’t already. I craved ruining her, breaking her to the point that she’d no longer crave anyone but the man who gave her everything she needed.
As insane as it sounded even to me, she was already mine.
“What do you think you’re doing, Catherine?” The taste of blood wasn’t new, but somehow it was sweeter because she’d forced it.
“I told you not to use my name. If you must, call me Ms. Devereaux. What I’m doing is coming to my senses and getting the hell away from you.” She had her back to me. Did she honestly believe I’d allow her to go under any circumstances?
Like hell.
With two steps, I managed to grab her arm, swinging her around.
Another surprise.
She smashed a vase against my head. I’d be goddamned.
The shock of what she’d done caught her off guard, but not enough to keep her paralyzed. She sprinted away from me, but even with having stars floating in front of my now aching eyes, I managed to cut her off before she was able to get to the door.
Her frustration grew, her groans from me thwarting her adorable, but the annoying habit she had of acting as if she could control the situation was over. No one had ever challenged me the way she’d done.
“I’m through playing games,” I told her.
“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m not.” She threw a book at me. Then a second. Suddenly, she was ripping them from the bookshelf, tossing one after another. Her aim was damn good. I had to give her that.
Four smacked me in the head before I figured out her technique and managed to duck.
It took me a few seconds longer to realize she was stealthily heading toward the spiral stairs.
I’d be goddamned if she wasn’t going to try to escape through the window again.
How the hell was I going to deal with this woman?
Before I knew it, she’d not only wreck my house, she’d also destroy my resolve.
Soon, there would be no control left.
“Stop. Now!” I yelled.
“Over my dead body.”
“Catherine. Do not continue with this behavior.”
“You don’t get to say what I do. You don’t own me.”
The woman was infuriating, straining every ounce of my control.
That could leave her bruised and broken and I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Not now. Not ever.
With books still in her hands, she managed to make it to the stairs. Where she’d been unstable on her feet before, she’d recovered quickly, taking them two at a time. Still tossing books.
That was it.
I had no other choice but to tackle her.
As my body landed on hers, she struggled but failed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, as if she didn’t know exactly what was happening.
“Keeping that promise.”