Page 69 of Ruthless Creatures
“Don’t manhandle me.”
“You know I’d never put my hands on you in anger.”
“Really? Because your hands are on me right now, and you’re angry.”
He drags me against his chest, closes his eyes, and draws a breath. When he exhales, he says through a clenched jaw, “Goddammit, woman. Stop. The. Sass.”
“Why, are you going to take me over your knee if I don’t?”
His eyes snap open. His nostrils flare. His lips thin, and holy hell, he’s hot when he’s mad.
Eyes narrowed, he growls, “Try me and find out.”
Looking into his eyes, I say deliberately, “Ido notgive you permission to spank me.”
I’m sure for anyone else, that animal sound rumbling through his chest would be terrifying. For me, it’s perversely satisfying.
Because no matter how scary he looks or sounds, I know I’m not in danger. He’d die before he’d ever hurt me.
Realizing that, my temper softens.
I lower my lashes and whisper, “Yet.”
He’s frozen for all of two seconds, then he fists a hand into my hair and takes my mouth.
We stand in the middle of the room, kissing passionately, until he breaks away, breathing hard.
“Tell me to go now or I’ll assume you want me to stay. And if I stay, you’ll never get rid of me.”
Clutching the front of his shirt, I laugh. “The whole world is black or white for you, isn’t it? You’re all in or nothing.”
“I don’t believe in halfway. Halfway is for cowards.”
He’s definitely not a coward, I’ll give him that.
He kisses me again, this time holding my head firmly in his hands, one at the scruff of my neck and one wrapped around my jaw. His tongue delves deeply into my mouth, demanding more, making me shiver with excitement.
Damn, I wish he wasn’t such a good kisser. He’s crossing all the wires in my brain.
This time, I break away first. “How often would I see you?”
He stills.
He knows what I’m asking.
Knows that no matter how impossible and ridiculous this whole situation is, I’m closer to ayesthan ano.
Moistening his lips, gripping my head in his hands, he says gruffly, “A few times a month. For a few days at a time, if I can manage it.”
Oh god. That’s barely any time at all.
“And you’d only come here? I could never go to whereyoulive?”
“Never,” he repeats, his voice stony. “We can’t take that risk.”
Risk?
It sounds like there’s something more to it than just him trying to keep me safe from his lifestyle. I mean, mafia men must have families. They must have wives and girlfriends. At least in the movies they do.
