“Dammit.” She jumped from the chair and moved quickly to the phone just inside the house. Jerking it off the base she quickly punched in Jesse’s number.
“Yes, Terrie.” His voice was dark, smooth, like rich chocolate. She had an addiction for chocolate.
“Did you ask Lucian Conover to help you f**k me?” she asked him point blank. Beating around the bush had never been her strong suit.
Silence met her abrupt question. A long, drawn out silence that made her begin to wonder if he had hung the phone up on her.
“Jesse?” Her voice was sharp, but her knees weakened.
“No,” he finally answered abruptly. “Not exactly. Are you sober now?”
There was a shade of worry in his tone now.
“Very much so,” she snarled, thinking he was lucky she couldn’t throw something at him. “How would you like it, Jesse, if I approached one of my girlfriends to help me f**k you?”
Another silence. “Which one?” Was that curiosity in his voice? She almost rapped the phone against the table in irritation.
“You’re a menace,” she accused him heatedly. “And I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to f**k you at all, Jesse. Actually, Mr. Conover seemed rather interested.” She checked her nails carefully as she considered the possibilities. “Maybe he’s not into the sharing deal after all?”
Jesse cleared his throat. “Terrie, I wouldn’t continue this way, if I were you.”
“I bet he’s hung, too,” she said with apparent interest. “I hear he’s quite good in bed. Maybe I’ll find out. Good night, Jesse, and kiss my ass.”
She disconnected abruptly. Damn him. She knew he had talked to Conover. He must have. She gritted her teeth furiously. Trojans. They were Trojans, all right. Trojan headaches.
The phone rang with a harsh, shrill note. Terrie jerked at the sound before picking it up and glanced at the caller display knowingly.
“Yes, Jesse?” she greeted him sweetly.
“I’ll do more than kiss your ass, Terrie,” he promised, his voice dark, arousing. “You should know better than to dare me, baby.”
She felt a nervous shiver of anticipation work over her body. Her thighs clenched, the liquid heat of her vagina spilling from the lips of her cunt at the sound of his dark, deep voice. It rasped over the line, stroking her senses with erotic purpose.
“Get a life,” she snorted. “I wasn’t daring you, Jesse, I was merely making a statement of intent.”
Silence sizzled over the line.
“You think you’re so brave,” he said, his voice gentle. So gentle, so filled with obvious affection, that she felt her throat tighten with emotion.
He could do that to her so easily. Have her furious, ready to flay him alive, then turn so soft, so incredibly tender she wanted to melt into a puddle of arousal at his feet.
“I am brave,” she reminded him, determined she wouldn’t be swayed this time.
She heard his disbelieving snort, as though he were trying to hide his disbelief.
“We’ll see,” he laughed gently. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t press you on this. I want you, but I won’t take something from you that you don’t want to give. You’re safe.”
She frowned, biting her lips as she heard the regret in his voice. It was so like Jesse. The thought speared through her mind. Her heart. He was always so careful to be certain no one was hurt; that he gave rather than took from anyone. Would he pretend to want her to keep from hurting her? Or had he pretended he didn’t want her to save her from something he felt she couldn’t handle? With Jesse, it could have been either.
“You don’t want me.” She fought the bitterness that closed her throat. She was terrified that was her answer.
“Terrie, I’m dying to f**k you,” he finally sighed. “I want you so damned bad my c**k is hard enough to hammer nails. But I don’t want you hurt. Not ever again, baby. And I’m afraid what I need would hurt you. Go to bed, baby. Don’t worry about this. I promise, I still love you.”
His abrupt about face had tears stinging her eyes. He wanted her. She knew he did. But she would be damned if she would beg.
“You know, Jesse, there are times you aren’t fit to kill,” she snapped. “What makes you think I need your protection?”
“Terrie…”