was one of utter amusement.
As if he had the upper hand.
As if he planned on taming me.
Mustang folded his arms, cocking his head as his heated gaze moved inch by inch down the length of my body. The look on his face bordered on anger, although there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Well. Well. What do we have here?”
“I was just leaving.” I dared to take two steps forward.
“Nah. I don’t think so.”
“Meaning what?” I challenged, remaining defensive even as my body responded to him almost instantly, my nipples aching and my legs quivering.
He took two steps closer, his scuffed cowboy boots thudding on the dense floor. “You’re the kind of woman who likes to break rules. I’m the type of man who has always been required to follow them. Discipline in my life has kept me alive. It’s a lesson I think you need to learn.”
“You don’t even know why I’m here.”
“Does it matter?” he asked as he inched closer, every thud on the wooden platform his rough and tumble cowboy boots made matched the heavy hammering of my heart. I realized I was clawing the wall, as if there was any chance of escape.
“I don’t know what you mean.” My retort was ripe with my usual rebellious tone. Damn it, his chiseled face and angular jaw were doing a damn good job of disarming me.
He took a deep whiff, the action exaggerated. “Oh, I think you do. You come on my property without an invitation, breaking in as if you owned the joint. You could have called or even stopped by the main house if you had questions or concerns, but you chose otherwise. I’m curious. Were you planning on hiding out until dark, maybe attempting to steal some information or worse?”
“First of all, you aren’t the owner, Holt Wills, or should I call you Mustang? Second, it’s obvious I wasn’t stealing anything. And third…” My argument had zero merit. He’d caught me red-handed.
After shaking his head, he closed in on me, standing barely two feet away. When I took a single deep breath, I was almost intoxicated from his scent, all dirt and forest and spices and testosterone. Jesus. A lump had even formed in my throat, my entire body aching.
“I’m waiting. And the third?” he asked coyly, his smooth voice wrapping around me like a cashmere sweater on a cold winter’s day.
A warm flush crept up from my neck, sliding over my jaw to my cheeks. I’d never felt so embarrassed in my life. “Fuck you.” While the nasty statement was ridiculous, I’d run out of excuses. And I wasn’t prepared to use what little ammunition I had against him. What ammunition? An asshole’s phone call? This had been one huge mistake.
“So, we can play this one of two ways. See, I’m a fair man in all things, including how to handle a wayward woman.”
“A wayward woman?” All I could do was stare at him. The man was serious. “Are you out of your mind? You don’t even know me.”
“Quite the contrary. I know you’re opinionated, ballsy, bitchy to a fault, and you have a foul mouth on you. I also know you’re highly intelligent, one of the best kissers I’ve ever experienced, and you refuse to back down to anyone, especially a man. All that being said, you’re still in need of a harsh punishment.”
“Over my dead body.”
“We could arrange that.”
“Such a bastard,” I managed, although my throat was tight, the sound more like a purr. “I heard you were dangerous just like you told me.”
He seemed taken aback, his lips pursing. “Now, who might that be from?”
“None of your business, asshole.”
“Such a foul mouth for a beautiful lady. What a pity. At least you’ve learned I don’t lie.”
“Everyone lies,” I retorted, instantly regretting it.
“Something else to keep in mind.”
When he crowded close enough that I could feel the extreme heat resonating from every muscle, my resolve was pushed to the point of no return. Dear God, I was turned on by the roughhewn brute.
Very slowly he planted one hand then the other on either side of my head, leaning in until our lips were mere inches apart. Everything about him reeked of the very danger I’d accused him of, and I had the distinct feeling his appetite was as huge as his bravado. He took another deep whiff, a slight growl pushing up from his throat. “As I was saying, you have a choice to make.” The bastard dared to brush