Wicked (Wild, Wicked and Wanton #2) - Jaci Burton Page 0,2

he backed away, and she smoothed down her skirt, ignoring the inferno flaming inside her, the roaring climax she’d been seconds from having.

The one she was never going to have with Rand McKay.

Forcing a calm and cool demeanor she didn’t feel, she whirled around and took two steps toward him, placing a finger in the center of his wide, masculine chest. “Get this straight, Rand. You want to write me a ticket for speeding, fine. You want to haul me into the station for possession of a gun I have a permit to possess, do it. But don’t you ever”—she accentuated the ever with a push of her finger against his chest—“ever touch me again.”

Instead of arguing with her, he folded his arms across his well-muscled chest and smiled smugly at her. How dare he look so unaffected when she was damn near shaking all over? If it wasn’t for the ridge of his erection clearly visible through his jeans, she could swear the man was cold as ice.

“When you’re ready to turn over control, Blair, you know where to find me.”

“When they announce the next Winter Olympics in hell, I’ll do that.”

Without bothering to gauge his reaction, she mustered up what dignity she had left, slipped in her car, buckled her seat belt, and drove away, blasting the air conditioner at arctic level. She was so goddamned hot she was going to self-combust. On fire with anger and unrequited passion.

She hated him. Absolutely hated him.

And she’d never wanted a man more than she wanted Rand McKay.

She always had.

rand leaned against his squad car and watched blair speed away, her tires spitting out gravel in her wake. Breaking the speeding laws again, no doubt. He owed her a ticket, too. Then again, he knew right where to find her.

And she knew where to find him. Which she would, soon enough.

For fifteen years he’d watched her go through man after man. She’d even gone as far as getting engaged to three of them but had never made it to the altar yet.

He knew why. Because none of those men could satisfy her. They didn’t understand what she needed.

Rand knew exactly what she needed.

Blair Newcastle might be cool, calm, and in charge on the outside, but inside she was desperate for a man to take charge and dominate her.

He knew it, and she knew it.

He slipped into his squad car, radioed the station that he was back on patrol, and drove off, heading toward town.

His cock was still hard and aching. God almighty was he miserable right now. It was all he could do to resist taking it out and jacking off on the side of the road, releasing the tight throbbing in his balls. He lifted his fingers to his nose, inhaling Blair’s sweet, musky scent that lingered on his hands.

Shit. He groaned and mentally cursed the stubborn woman. What the hell was wrong with her, anyway? Her nipples had been tight when he’d cupped her full breasts, her pussy moist when he’d brushed his fingers against her silken panties. It had been damn torture for him not to palm her heat and take her over the edge. He’d heard the soft panting gasps she thought to mask, knew she could fall with the slightest brush of his fingers against her hard little clit. She’d been primed and ready for a good hard climax. Until she’d fought her natural urges.

Though she’d hardly fought. Usually she cussed him out and slapped his hand away when they tussled. Not this time though. Arousal had seethed inside her, and she’d been moments away from giving up control to him.

But she just refused to surrender the last vestiges of it, too afraid of what might happen if she submitted to him.

They’d been dancing around each other for fifteen goddamn years. He’d never force the issue with her, because she was going to have to come to him if she wanted him to take control.

So far she hadn’t. But he was a very patient man. And she was waffling, getting closer and closer to caving in; he could tell.

Sooner or later she’d figure out that the only man who was going to make her happy was him.

And when she did, he’d be ready for her.

debating whether or not to spread her legs in the car and massage her hard clit to orgasm right there in Callie’s driveway, Blair mentally cursed Rand McKay a thousand times over and turned the ignition off with an oath of disgust,