Shit, I was so weak!
I took my hand from his mouth, shut my eyes tight, lifted my arms and grabbed my hair in both of my fists.
This, I decided, was not going my way.
At al .
And it was al my fault.
Then it hit me, something else we had to talk about.
I dropped my arms, opened my eyes and looked right into his.
He was ful on amused now.
I ignored his amusement.
“Tel me about yesterday morning in the kitchen,” I said quietly.
The amusement disappeared instantly.
Oh dear.
“What about it?” he asked, his voice was guarded.
“You know,” I answered, my voice stil soft.
His hands stil at my waist, he made to move again but I did the hands-pressing-on-shoulders, thighs-locking-on-hips move again and he stil ed.
His eyes came back to mine and now t h e y were guarded. No warm amusement, no determination, no impatience, nothing.
Blank.
Hidden.
He didn’t say a word.
And that’s when I knew.
Mace was going to do whatever he had to do to win me.
Except what would actual y work.
“I get it,” I whispered.
I watched his eyes flash with anger. “I don’t think you do,” he replied.
“No, you’re right. I don’t. And you aren’t gonna give it to me,” I retorted, knowing he wasn’t going to share, knowing he was wil ing to take but he wasn’t wil ing to give. This hurt, it shouldn’t hurt, I didn’t want it to hurt but it was a kick to the gut al the same.
Then I said softly, “Same shit, Mace, just a year later.” It was my turn to try to get away but he twisted and we ended with me on my back, he was on top of me and we were face-to-face.
“You think you got it figured out, Kitten, but you don’t.
Bottom line, you aren’t ready for it,” he told me.
I probably wasn’t ready for it, if the look in his eyes yesterday morning was anything to go by.
But I had to know. I knew I shouldn’t want to, shouldn’t need to, but I had to.