"Damn you to hell," she muttered, tears touching her eyes. She couldn't let him get away with it, no matter what he did to her afterward. She wasn't defenseless, and it was about time he realized that.
She channelled her fear, her humiliation, into a thin lance of energy and flung it back at him.
It hit him with enough force to throw him back in the seat. His gaze went wide, eyes filled for the briefest of moments by the echo of everything she was feeling. Then his shields slammed home, and the lance died.
"What the hell was that?"
"A taste of what you'll get if you try to use the binding on me," she said. "You'll pay for my submissiveness, let me tell you."
He studied her for a moment, then smiled. It held very little warmth. "Thank you for warning me. I'll be sure I stop you from using your gifts before I issue any orders from now on."
She wanted to smack him. She really did. She clenched her fists, but rose and walked away instead. This was her doing, her mess. What sort of fool was she to believe she could enter into any sort of sexual game with a man like Duncan Sinclair and come away unscathed?
"So?" Ari whispered. "How did it go?"
She forced a warm smile. "I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, consider yourself rushed out the door."
"Now that sounds promising." Ari dropped a kiss on Neva's cheek, then picked up her bag and coat. "I want details. Lots of details. And remember the bicarb."
Once she'd left, Neva headed into the kitchen, checking to ensure that everything was turned off, then walked around the building, locking the doors and windows. The diner's front door was the last one she locked.
"Don't," he said softly when she reached for the blind.
She froze for a moment, then grabbed the base of the blind and yanked it down anyway. A second later, it rolled back up, clattering noisily against the frame.
"Telekinesis," he said gravely, "can be a handy gift in situations like this."
She took a deep breath, but it did little to ease the trembling deep inside. Only trouble was, she knew it wasn't all fear. The full moon was closer tonight, and the wildness was raging to be free. She clenched her fists and turned around.
Without the lights on, the diner was filled with dusky shadows. Evening came early here in the mountains, and of that she was glad. At least it meant if anyone did walk by, there'd be less chance of them seeing what was happening inside the diner.
Her gaze clashed with his and, for the briefest moment, amusement flashed in the dark depths of his eyes. Then it was gone, locked behind the shutters.
"Come over here," he said, voice as seductive as the kiss of silk against skin.
She forced her reluctant feet forward. He'd shifted from the booth to a table, turning his chair sideways and stretching his long legs out in front of him. The small parcel was still sitting on the booth's seat.
"Undress."
He could have been asking her to clear the table for all the emotion he showed. She stared at him, but she knew she had no real choice. Sure, she could make him pay, but his shields were almost as strong as hers. Now that she'd so stupidly warned him, they'd undoubtedly remain up and would take most of the sting of an empathic attack. Her gift was a weapon best used when a victim's mind was wide open and unaware.
And she'd much rather be embarrassed of her own free will than be forced into it. And in the end, no matter how she fought him, he would force her.
She slipped off her shoes and slowly began undoing the buttons on the front of her dress. Hunger slipped warm and bright between them, caressing her mind with its heat. She threw her dress on the other seat, followed quickly by her panties and bra.
His gaze all but devoured her, and pinpricks of desire skidded across her skin. Her ni**les puckered, as if in anticipation of his touch, and the longing he'd left unquenched last night stirred anew.
"What now?" she said, crossing her arms.
He leaned forward, gripped her elbows, and pulled her forward. "Straddle me."
She did. He was as hard as she was achy, and she couldn't help the fleeting wish that he were as na**d as she.
He raised a hand, skimming his knuckles down her neck and between her br**sts. Goose bumps scurried across her skin, and her heart hammered so loudly its beat seemed to echo through the silence.
His hand slipped around her waist then rested against her back, pressing heat into her spine as he gently pushed her forward. His tongue skimmed her skin, trailing fire and sending a delicious shiver of anticipation through her body. He outlined a breast with that liquid touch, circling it, gradually working his way inward. He teased the outer edges of that dark circle, but never touched the aching, sensitive center.
Sweat skittered across her skin, and every muscle quivered. Ached. His whisper-soft touch moved to her other breast. By the time he'd finished circling its center, she thought she was going to die with frustration.