Page 24 of First Surrender

“It’s my job to keep him safe, not yours. We don’t need you,” I snap, drawing his eyes to my mouth. When they blink back to mine, they’re darker and more menacing.

“You have no idea what you need, little girl.”

Slap.

My hand stings.

Before I can blink, my chest is pressed to the oak tabletop and I’m face down on his desk. Both of my arms are twisted tightly behind my back and the entirety of the Sheriff of Rollins County is looming over me. Behind me.

No amount of fight will give me an inch. With hardly any effort on his part, he has me trapped and in a position to be cuffed. Despite his level of strength, he’s not hurting me, and that annoys me more. “I hate you!” I scream, my cheek tightly pressed against the cool surface.

“Good. Feeling’s mutual,” he grits out, his head dangerously close to mine. My breaths are coming out roughly, impeding my hearing but I can tell that his mouth is inches from my ear.

I whip my head back as hard as I can, bucking my body to try to escape. It’s an idiotic idea because he anticipates it, positioning himself firmly against me. And, that’s when I feel it.

Theentiretyof the Rollins County Sheriff is planted firmly against my ass. Even from this position that I’ve found myself in, I’m pissed to realize that I have no business calling him Sheriff Small Dick.

“Is that how you show your anger, Jackson?” I ask, breathlessly as the angry fire in my belly spreads, turning to warmth between my legs.

“God dammit,” he mumbles under his breath, pushing off of me and stumbling to the other side of his office. “Get out.”

I stand up, slowly, adjusting my skirt that had ridden up to the tops of my thighs. I take my time, refusing to run away like he wants me to. When I look over my shoulder to gauge his feelings, his eyes are zoned in directly on where my hands are fixing my skirt.

All I feel is triumph. Mister high and mighty is only human after all. It’s too easy. “If violence gets you worked up, you should consider anger management. Or, maybe it’s a kink. That’show most serial killers start,” I add cheekily, fully aware of how bold it is to harass him like this.

I start toward the door but pause as I grasp the handle. “What will the people of Rollins County think when they find out their Sheriff has a fetish for yelling at women.” I shrug and start to open the door when it slams shut. An arm above my head braces it closed.

“You know you are the only woman who gets me this heated,” he grits out. “I can’t stand you and yet I’m hard as a rock every time you lash that pretty tongue at me.”

My breath lodges in my throat. I wasn’t expecting those words to come out of his mouth.

He’s so close to me, his front to my back. If I leaned back even an inch, I’d probably brush against him. I’d feel the evidence of his hatred for me.

“Now, leave,” he demands through a locked jaw.

Chapter Twelve

Jackson

My whole body is on fire. I’m frustrated with her and how I’ve reacted. My mind is begging me to get away from her but I can’t seem to move.

“Fuck. You.” Her whole body is vibrating with anger but I’m too worked up to get satisfaction from it. I want to shove her out of my office just as badly as I want to grab her by the hips and pull her back into me. Like I’ve imagined doing every time she’s ever stomped away from me.

My attraction to her is the biggest burden of my life. I didn’t get a say in it. She popped into my life, into my head, consuming my thoughts entirely. A lot of them are of annoyance and stubbornness, but more than a few are about the curves this woman possesses.

Her ass. God, I can’t stop thinking about her ass.

I lower my hand from the door, finally backing up and away from her. What the hell am I doing?

I’m losing my mind.

“Go, Natalie. I am too tired to fight with you.” I slump onto the small sofa on the far side of my office and close my eyes for a second. She doesn’t bust out of the room like I suspected, instead, I watch from under heavy lids as she turns back toward me.

Maybe she’ll strut over here and kill me. Put me out of my misery with a stomp of her heel.

She takes a seat in the chair that her purse was sitting in, crossing her arms over her chest. The way her leg rests over her knee with her foot tapping in the air is not the stance of a woman who is going to leave quietly. I blow a breath out, slowly. Here we go.

“In the interest of keeping Dec safe. Are we safe in the hotel?”

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