He reached down between our bodies, and for a moment I was certain he would tug my hand away. But all he did was hold it in place through the thick fleece of his pants, so that I ended up stroking his cock to a pressure and speed that he controlled.
“I told you,” I said. “I’m not pure. I’m not innocent.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed. He let a moment pass, and I saw the regret on his face when he gently tugged my hand free. “But you also can’t be mine.”
The words, so unexpected, acted like a spark on kindling. My temper spiked, and without thinking about it, I reached out and slapped his face.
“Bastard.”
“Goddammit, Kat, you’re special.” He reached up and massaged the red spot on his jaw. “Maybe you don’t see it, but I do, and I’m not going to risk destroying that by having you get twisted up with me. Because there is nothing clean or pure or special about the shit I live with every goddamn day.”
“That’s a lie,” I said. “It’s fear and it’s an excuse and never once in all the time that I’ve known you have I believed that you were a coward.”
He exhaled, then ran his hands over his head in obvious frustration.
“I know about the Firehouse,” I said. “I get that you’re into BDSM. I understand, Cole. It doesn’t bother me.”
“You don’t understand shit,” he said.
“Then explain it to me.”
“Fuck that,” he said, then lashed out and kicked over an end table, making me jump. “Shit.” There was anger in the word, but also frustration.
“You surprised me,” I said sharply. “You didn’t hurt me. And if you actually want to scare me you’ll have to do better than tormenting a table.”
As I hoped, he almost laughed. Almost. But he did calm down. He drew in a breath, then another. After a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at me. “Do you think what I need makes me proud?” he asked softly. “It’s not a road you want to walk with me, Kat.”
“Dammit, Cole, don’t you dare tell me what I want or don’t want. You don’t have a clue about what I need, and you sure as hell don’t know my boundaries.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I know my own.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
With a sigh, he cupped my chin, his expression so sad I wanted to weep. “It means that you’re a hard limit for me, blondie. And that’s just the way it is.”
ten
“Fine,” I snapped. “But stay away from me, Cole. Stay away from me and my dad. And while you’re at it, stay out of my life.”
I turned and stormed toward his door. He caught my arm and yanked me back. “I’ll help you with your dad. But not the rest.”
“No. This isn’t a negotiation. I told you what I want. You don’t want to help on my terms, then don’t help. But right now, I want you to get out of my way.”
“Why?”
“Because I already owed you for the employment verification. I’m tired of owing you, Cole. I’m tired of owing you and not being able to pay the way I want to.”
“I’m not tossing your dad to the wolves.”
“Then fuck me,” I said.
“Kat.”
“Hard limit? That’s bullshit. Do not tell me what I do and do not want and what I can and cannot have. I’m a grown woman, damn you. I know what I want, what I need. But you’re so goddamned hardheaded.”
I was stalking toward him now, and I was supremely pissed off. So was he. I could see the fire in his eyes. Cole wasn’t defied frequently. I wasn’t sure he quite knew what to do with me.
“How do I convince you that you don’t scare me? This?” I grabbed my shirt by the hem and ripped it up over my head. I tossed it aside. “This?” The bra went next, and as soon as I’d dropped it on the floor I grabbed his hand and tugged so that I was standing right there—right in front of him.