Page 38 of Puck You Very Much

“Does this look like your hotel room?” Lucy asked incredulously, spreading her arms.

Dax was silent for a few seconds—unsettlingly, dangerously quiet. Then he smiled. It was a small, condescending smile that pierced her temples like pins.

“It doesn’t matter, Lucy,” he whispered smugly. “What you just did may have scared away Brandy, but there are plenty of other women here.”

She looked at him thoughtfully, then checked out the room, where there were indeed far too many pretty women. “You’re absolutely right,” she said, nodding firmly. “I'd better eliminate all threats at once, right?”

Perplexed, he looked at her for a second. “What are you talking about? What…”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she rose, pulled out the chair, and climbed onto it so she could command the entire room. “Listen up, everyone,” she shouted, her voice echoing off the sticky walls as the entire bar turned to face her. “This is my friend Steven.” She pointed to Dax. “He’s just finished treatment for a severe sex addiction and it would be great if you all could help him avoid a relapse today.” She placed a hand on her chest before continuing in a dramatic voice, “He has made such great progress over the last year, it would be a shame if he…”

Suddenly the air was knocked out of her lungs as Dax wrapped one of his strong arms around her middle and pulled her from the chair. She lost her footing and uttered a distortedoofsound as her stomach made the acquaintance of his muscular shoulder.

“Okay, enough,” he growled.

“No, no, I think some of the women in the restroom didn’t hear me!” she immediately contradicted him, struggling against his grip. But she stood no chance against him. Unlike her, Dax had muscles—way too many of them.

“What the hell are you doing?” she gasped, tilting her head back so it wouldn’t collide with Dax’s back as he carried her across the room, slung over his shoulder like a wet sack of rice. His arm pressed against her thighs to keep her from tumbling backward onto the floor.

“I’m eliminating the danger,” he growled.

“Put me down!” she demanded loudly, trying to look around the bar for help, but by then, Dax had already carried her out the door.

Cold wind blew under her skirt and she winced. “Shit, that’s cold.”

Chapter 12

Dax had no idea what Lucy was talking about.

He wasn’t cold. On the contrary—the heat that was making his blood boil was unlike anything he had felt in the last five years of his life.

There was the anger, the hot anger that had been consuming him since she told Brandy she was his wife, compounded by the fact that she had managed to install a tracking app on his phone without his knowledge.

And then there was the desire.

The burning, burning desire that he wanted to ignore, but couldn’t because it was fueled by the sensation of her soft thighs under his large hand, holding her tight.

And before that: Why the hell couldn’t she stop shifting around on his lap? Why did she have to rub against him like she was a dog and he a leg? Why did she nestle her head under his chin so that he had no choice but to breathe in the smell of lemons and Lucy if he didn’t want to die a horrible death by suffocation?

Did she know anything at all about the male body? Didn’t she realize that she had aroused all his nerve endings and that he had been forced to use all his control to keep from getting hard?

“I’m cold, Dax,” Lucy said, annoyed, pounding on his back with her fist.

“You should have thought about that earlier,” he replied with hostility, pulling her forward by her legs so he could lower her to the ground.

She squeaked in surprise at the sudden movement, clinging to his shoulders as she slid down his body.

Excruciatingly slowly. Inch by inch, fabric rubbing fabric, body against body, soft against hard.

His throat became tight, his abdomen heavy, and as soon as she was on the ground, he stepped back. He had wanted to punishherby dragging her out of the bar, not himself. But he was starting to get the feeling that he had just needed to get outside to cool down a bit.

Fuck, he shouldn’t care how she felt on his lap, how soft her skin was, or how perfectly her breasts nestled against his upper body.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds to pull himself together. He was angry, not turned on!

When he opened his eyes again, Lucy was glaring up at him. Her brown eyes flashed in the darkness and her lips were red and slightly swollen, probably from being gnawed in frustration.

His mouth went dry.

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