“I didn’t promise you anything.”
“You did.” The sensual male croon in his voice had her womb clenching. “When you dampened those panties on your bed because of my breath against your sweet pussy, you made a very firm promise. One I intend to collect on. A taste I intend to take.”
Shock held her motionless.
“My panties?” she whispered desperately.
“Red lace.” His hand lifted, the backs of his fingers stroking along her collarbone as she trembled before him. “The ones lying on that pristine white bed in there. Still wet and smelling of peaches and cream. Do you know that I’m very partial to peaches and cream, Emily?”
Emily jerked back, nearly stumbling against the wall she backed into as she stared back at Kell in amazed shock. His eyes seemed to brighten while his face became darker, intent, sexually hungry.
She shook her head desperately. “It wasn’t supposed to be you,” she wheezed. “It was supposed to be a bouncer.”
“And I had to pay him well to stand back,” he murmured with a smile. “Very well. And I intend to collect on that one as well. Right in there in that big bed of yours, all over you like wild rain. Tell me, sugar, you ever had a man cover you like wild rain?”
Cajun. The soft flavor of a Cajun accent slipped into his voice and sent a hard shudder down Emily’s spine as she shook her head. A jerky movement she didn’t seem to have control of.
This wasn’t happening. And she wasn’t responding. She wasn’t hot. She wasn’t getting horribly wet between her thighs. And dammit, her nipples were not pressing tight and hard against the shirt she wore.
“Never?” His voice lowered as he moved forward again, caging her in, restraining her. His hard body within a breath’s distance of her and the wall at her back.
“Stop!” She meant the word to be forceful. God, she meant to sound as outraged and furious as she knew she should be. “I haven’t seen you enough in the past five years to recognize you when you walk into a bar and you think I’m going to just jump into bed with you?”
Her body was more than ready to do just that.
“Stop?” His head lowered, his lips touching her brow.
She was going to choke on her own breath. Pleasure swamped her just that quickly, a weakness that had her knees giving out and tremors suddenly shaking her body.
“Please stop.” She closed her eyes as she pressed her hands tight against the wall, using the last amount of strength to keep from touching him. If she touched him, she was going to humiliate herself further. She would moan and arch against him. She would beg him for things that she knew would ultimately destroy her independence.
“Sure, sugar?” His hands whispered down her bare arms. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I could make you come again. Instead of a little ripple, I’ll make you explode with pleasure. Wouldn’t you like that?”
She would love it. She ached for it. She was dying for it.
“No!” In a move she couldn’t believe she had made, her hands slammed into his chest, pushing him back as she threw herself from the wall, staring back at him in fury.
He was laughing at her. It was there in his eyes, in the smile on his face. Laughing at her and daring her. Trying to control her.
“You bastard,” she choked. “You have no right to molest me in my own home like this.”
“Molest you?” He was clearly laughing now. The amusement on his face slid into her gut like a knife, and burned through her mind with the shameful realization that he might be aroused, but nothing like she was. He was playing. Nothing more.
“Stay the hell away from me,” she ordered harshly, blinking back her tears. “I don’t like your games and I don’t appreciate your damned lies. I can do without both.”
She turned, intent on racing away from him, on locking herself in her bathroom and trying to wash the shameful emb
arrassment from her mind.
“Hold up there, sugar?” His hand wrapped around her arm, turning her to him firmly as he frowned back at her. “This is no game. And this sure as hell isn’t.”
Before she could stop him, he forced her palm to the bulge beneath his jeans, pressed it close, and his gaze flared with brilliance again. “I might enjoy playing with you a little bit, but trust me, I know how damned serious I am about touching you. I will be in that bed with you, the only question is when.”
“When hell freezes over.”
“Really?” His smile was gentler now, but still filled with humor. “I hear global warming is coming fast, cupcake. You sure it ain’t already froze over?”
“I’m quite sure,” she snarled back. “Because if it were we sure as hell wouldn’t be standing here and your master would have called you back to chip ice. Now let me go!”