A door
slammed, and he rose. Was she going to try to sneak away? They were on a base
for Christ’s sake. He grabbed the shirt he’d discarded and took a step toward
the door, but it flew open before he reached it.
He almost
winced at the anger rolling off her. Damn, but if she wasn’t the most beautiful
woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Even angry. There was just something about this
woman.
And he
hated himself for thinking of her like that. Yes, he was a straight, virile
man, but he was also a special operator in the military who knew how to keep
his dick in his pants, even if his cock refused his orders, too.
“I got your
favor right here.”
She yanked
her arm back and swung in his direction. He didn’t see what she had in her
hand, but he deflected whatever it was she threw at him. She yelled as she
charged. Pissed off women weren’t part of his combat training, but his skills
kicked in anyway. He grabbed her arm and spun her around, holding her by her
midsection against his body. She kicked out, her foot connecting with the door,
making it slam so hard the walls shook. She gasped out in sound of pain, and he
barely had time to notice her shoes were off because the infuriated woman had
managed to gain enough force when she connected with the door that he lost his
footing. Axle tripped over his boots, and he landed on his back on the bed,
still holding her to him. She flailed, but he refused to lessen his grip.
“Caitlin.”
“I hate
you!”
All right,
then. He twisted to his side and managed to turn her so that her back was on
the mattress, and he rolled on top of her. He grabbed her arms and pinned them
above her head.
She
growled, and he slapped his halfway free hand over her mouth. It wasn’t really
the best position to be in, her beneath him, writhing, but damn. What choice
did he have? “Would you calm down?” he said through his teeth. Her movements
were making him stir until he became excruciatingly hard.
She slowed,
but her breath sawed in and out of her body, forcing her breasts to mash
against him. Jesus, he did not need to be thinking about her body when she was
pinned beneath him.
On a bed.
While he
lost yet another battle with his wayward dick.
After
several agonizing seconds, she completely relaxed, and he chanced moving his
hand. When she didn’t scream, he pulled it away to prop himself up a little higher,
creating some space between their heaving bodies. Though his hadn’t been
because of exertion.
At least
not yet.
No. He had to focus here. He looked to the side,
willing his mind to work, and saw the object she’d hurled at him.
“If you get
this pissed when you run out of ink, I’d hate to see how you handle road rage.”
She glared
wordlessly.
“When I
told you it was a weapon, I didn’t think you’d try using it on me.”
Still
nothing. And he was glad her hands were secured far away from his gun.
He sighed,
dropping his forehead on top of hers, losing the hardest battle of his
life—resisting her. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I was a jerk.”
The seconds
ticked by, and somehow, he found himself closer to her. He was strong enough to
hold himself up, but the strength currently in control wasn’t led by his
external abilities, overriding the power in his arms. And he’d quickly learned
that he had no mental or emotional control when it came to this woman. It was
some other force within calling the shots.
“You’ve
been a jerk since I got here,” she said, but there wasn’t any fire in her
words.
He had his
eyes closed. A last-ditch effort to put some distance between them. He knew if
he opened them now, he would be a goner.
“You drive
me insane, baby.”
Her breath
bathed his face, and his mouth dropped closer to inhale the luscious scent that
was her. All her. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should not be holding her down
on his bed. He knew this. He fucking knew
this.
He couldn’t
move away. Every time he shifted, thinking he was creating space, he was
drawing nearer to her.
“Axle,” she
breathed. His name leaving her mouth caused her lips to brush against his. That was how close they’d gotten.
And it
wasn’t close enough.
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