Page 8 of Snow Bound

“And are bodyguards not allowed to have phones?” she demanded.

“I should have called,” he admitted, and to her surprise there was true regret in his crystal blue eyes. “I didn’t have your number, and I thought I’d be back sooner.”

“You could’ve called the club, left another message.” She was starting to get mad again. “I hung around that place for weeks hoping you’d show back up, and?—”

“Three weeks,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, that’s weeks,” she snapped, then blinked. “Wait, how did you know that?”

“Because when I got back three and a half weeks later, I found out I’d missed you by three days.” The moonlight streaming in through the window at her back lit up his face, making his eyes glitter like icy diamonds. “Three fucking days.”

“Three fucking weeks,” she shot back, pissed all over again, and forgetting herself, started to struggle.

“Goddammit, Anna, quit rubbing your cunt on my dick,” he ground out.

“Get your dick away from my cunt,” she countered, wiggling harder.

“I can still turn you over my knee,” he warned.

“You just fucking try it,” she snarled and fought all the harder, so incensed she could barely think. She knew she was overreacting. They’d met once, and technically he hadn’t made any promises. But she’d been so excited about having a scene with him, and it had made her feel so small and unwanted when he hadn’t shown up. And now he was here, hard and hot between her thighs and pinning her down the way she’d always fantasized about, and it felt so good and it was so unfair she just couldn’t stand it.

“Anna, stop,” he ordered.

She ignored him, struggling in earnest now, yanking her hands and kicking her legs trying to get loose. He leaned into her even harder, trying to keep her still, but it just made her madder and hornier.

So much hornier.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to stop you,” he warned.

“Jerk,” she spat and tried to head butt him in the chin. He jerked back and she missed, and that pissed her off even more. “Swine. Asshole. No good, rat-dicked bastard, let me go!”

“No.”

Incensed, furious, she tried to bite him. He jerked back with a curse. “Do that again and I’ll blister your butt.”

Her pulse pounding in her ears, rage and lust such a tangled mess inside her she couldn’t tell which was which, she did the only thing she could think of: she kissed him.

The heat was enormous, overwhelming. It felt like she’d been dipped in hot wax, leaving everything pulsing and throbbing and yearning. She stopped trying to kick him, instead lifting her legs to wrap around his hips, and his groan nearly smothered hers.

He lifted his head, panting, and she tried to follow, wanting more. But he was too far away, and she couldn’t use her hands to drag him back down, so she leaned forward and sank her teeth into the thick muscle of his chest.

He muttered a curse and dragged her head back by his grip on her hair. The sting nearly brought tears to her eyes, and her pussy pulsed in response.

“Anna.” He growled it, gave her head a little shake, and she tried to pay attention.

“What?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman, here.”

She ground herself down on his dick, digging her heels into his ass for leverage. “You’re not a gentleman. You’re a no good, rat-dicked bastard.”

His lips were peeled back in a grimace, eyes fierce. “I’m getting sick of you calling me names.”

“Oh, yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?” she challenged and bit him again, following it up with a steaming swipe of her tongue.

“That’s it,” he growled and spun her around.

She shrieked, off balance, and tried to lift her hands. But he kept them pinned against her lower back, and with his other hand still tangled in her hair, dragged her to the kitchen island.

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