“Hey, no. Just wait a second.” His eyes pleaded, and he swiped a hand over his face. “I can explain.”
When he started forward again, she held up a palm. “Don’t come any closer.” Sweet God, the tension in the room made it impossible to breathe. “If you try to contact me, I’ll file a restraining order.” I’m saving your life. “Now, leave.”
“Jesus, a restraining order? On what grounds?” His voice was thready, and his shoulders slumped. “Amber, she meant nothing. It was a mistake.”
“I’ll tell them you raped me.” She cringed inwardly, her insides threatening to heave. “I still have your semen on my sheets. They’ll believe me.” If Zach knew her at all, he’d call her out on her cleanliness. But he’d never paid attention to her neurosis, which was what she’d liked most about him. She rose and thrust a finger in the vicinity of the front door. “Get. The fuck. Out.”
His jaw clenched, and his blue eyes turned to glass, losing focus. He nodded a few times, staring at the floor. Then he smacked a hand against the door, knocking it into the wall. “Crazy bitch.” He turned and stomped down the hall. A moment later, the front door slammed.
The truck rumbled through the walls then faded into the distance. Gone. She was officially on her own. And her packages weren’t mailed. She released a ragged breath, her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed. She sniffed and looked at the closet door. God help her. It would open any second now.
When he emerged, she met his eyes and spat out her words. “Convincing enough for you?”
“Watch your fucking tone.” He strode past her to the doorway and glared down the hall. “I should’ve killed him for calling you a bitch.”
Sudden warmth hit at the core of her. The sentiment touched a needy, vulnerable piece of her psyche she refused to examine. He confused her, and maybe that was part of his game. “So you can break into houses and threaten people’s lives, but name calling is a crime?”
“Yes.” His pale gray eyes, so contemplative and unnervingly focused on her, made her feel more exposed than a dozen pageant walks before a hundred judges. He de-cocked the gun and tucked it in the waistband at his back. “You can run, but there’s nowhere to go but outside. If you don’t follow my orders, I’ll restrain you...outside.”
She shook her head in denial and clutched her throat. What he suggested was the worst possible outcome, unless... “Are you going to cut me up in little pieces?”
A cold smile tipped his lips as he chuckled. Then his expression sobered. “Walk to the kitchen.”
Fucking psychopath. He stood right in the doorway, taking up the whole damned hall. At over six feet tall with a muscled body cut from stone, he could squash her without breaking a sweat. She didn’t want to go near him. He was terrifying. But being forced outside was worse. She straightened her back and headed toward him.
As she slid by, his arm caught her waist and yanked her back against his chest. She slapped at his hand, bucking against him, and his arm clenched tighter. His erection jabbed against her backside, his breath hot at her ear. “Fighting and squirming only turns me on. Don’t stop.”
She immediately stilled. God, he wasn’t lying. His dick was undeniably more pronounced against her back. Feeling him like that, so close, so huge and hard, rushed heat between her legs and prickles over her skin. Why, oh why was she responding this way? She hated and wanted it, and mother of all fucks, she couldn’t have been more completely and totally out of her mind.
She drew a ragged breath. Think, think, think. But his intention blatantly rubbed against her, scattering her thoughts. “You’re going to rape me, aren’t you?”
His torso moved up and down with his breath. “I thought you wanted to be fuck buddies. Don’t make it weird.”
“What? Oh no. Nononononono. I’m not offering now!” Her voice shrilled, and her elbows rammed into his ribs. “This is me saying ‘No’.”
Restraining her with an arm around her chest, he pulled off a glove with his teeth and shoved his hand down the front of her jeans, beneath her panties. She gasped and tried to reach for the gun at his back. The glove dropped to the floor as he kept his back twisted away and the brace of his massive arm effectively immobilizing her movements.
The fingers in her jeans descended with strength and determination. They slid over her mound, between her lips, reaching, curling, and oh God, fucking her. He pressed his palm over her pussy, his fingers hooking inside her. The grip yanked her back, grinding her ass against his erection.
Her inner muscles pulsated around the invasion, clenching and shameless. She wanted to cry, knowing how wet she was, humiliated that he was swirling through the depraved evidence of her frail mind and touching her in a place she never wanted anyone to see.
“Please.” She squeezed her thighs together, tried to angle her hips away from his fingers. “Please, I don’t want this.”
He thrust harder and twisted his fingers inside her. “Your cunt disagrees.” Without warning, he yanked his hand from her pants and shoved his fingers in her mouth, pressing down on her tongue and jaw. The tang of her arousal mixed with her saliva as he angled her jaw with his hand, forcing her cheek against his chest and shoving his face into hers.
Every human being had a cruel side, but as she looked into the blackness behind his eyes, she didn’t see a facet of varying traits. She saw the entire man. He was cruelty incarnate.
He released her, and she stumbled. He reached out to catch her arm, but she jerked away, refusing to be dragged. He grabbed his
