"If I thought it a game, then I w
ould have brought my scorecard," she retorted, her chin lifting, bringing them almost nose to nose. "Now let me go, Mr. Wyatt. I did not give you permission to touch me, nor did I give you permission to berate me."
His gaze narrowed, the liquid silver boiling as a subtle mask of male lust seemed to descend upon his expression.
The look did something to her. It caused her stomach to jump, her womb to tighten. This time, her thighs truly did clench as she fought to hold back a response that seemed more instinctive than hormonal or forced.
"You're giving it to me now," he assured her, his nostrils flaring as he seemed to inhale.
Rachel felt heat flare in her face, both from arousal as well as embarrassment.
"How dare you . . ."
"I dare because I've spent too much time watching you flip around my office like some ice queen that no man dare touch, even after you had Amber. I dare because you know what the hell you're doing to me and you stand there in all your indignation and do it anyway."
And he was right. That damned sense of fair play she felt kicked in and made yet another situation more uncomfortable than it should have been.
"Why shouldn't I do it?" She narrowed her gaze on him, her jaw tightening in anger. "I've watched you fuck your way through Washington as though it were your own intimate little playground. What the hell makes you think I want anything to do with a man that so many other women have already had?"
That wasn't exactly the truth, but what the hell. She was getting mad now. The rules didn't apply with the same strength when she was mad.
"Oh, you want me." A tight smile curled his lips. "You can deny it until hell freezes over, sweetheart, but we both know you want nothing more than my hands on you."
Oh, she hated that arrogant confidence that seemed to ooze from his very pores.
Fighting back the arousal that had slipped past her control wasn't easy, but she managed it. As quickly as the blood had thundered through her veins and rushed to the sensitive bud of her clit, it was settling, easing back into its normal pace.
She'd had to learn how to control herself and her responses so many years ago. She and her sister both had learned the danger of ever giving rein to their desires versus locking them down.
She pulled back slowly.
"Nice little trick." His head lowered farther, his lips so close to her own that she stilled just as quickly, terrified of allowing her own to brush against them.
Merinus had warned her about the potency of a Breed's kiss and the hormone that filled the small glands beneath the Breed's tongue.
"What trick." She didn't dare lick her lips, not yet, not even to soothe their nervous dryness.
"Stilling the desire, the needs that claw at you." Before she could evade him his head lowered, his cheek brushing against hers, much too close to her lips. "Tell me, Rachel, do you truly think you can deny me if I share my kiss with you? If I allow you to taste the hunger that's ripping my guts to shreds?"
Lust. It was no more than lust, and Rachel had sworn to herself that she would never be the object of any man's lust again.
She wanted love, not just desire, or mating heat, or forced hunger. Whatever the description, she didn't want it without his heart.
She didn't want to be bound to a man who she knew would feel no more than an overwhelming responsibility to keep her alive.
"Do you have any idea how much I've wanted you?" Curiously gentle, his voice seemed to wrap around her senses, to stroke them with sensuality rather than lust.
"Let me go, Jonas," she whispered. If she felt the warmth of him surrounding her much longer, she might not be able to hold back the need to experience the taste of that kiss he was threatening her with. "Let me go, now."
He released his hold on her slowly, one finger at a time, reluctance filling each move, before stepping back.
"Do you think running away from it is going to help?" he growled, his voice dark, heavy with hunger.
"Immeasurably," she assured him as she moved away from him. "Trust me, Jonas, it will help immeasurably."
At least, it better. As far as Rachel was concerned, it was the last defense she had against her desire for him.
Mating heat, her ass. As though this could be forced without some kind of hormonal kiss. This was desire. The kind her sister had warned her years ago that she never wanted to know, and never wanted to regret.