by Lynda Chance
“You haven’t been stuck here forever, Nora,” Rafael said with flattened lips. “You’ve only been home from California for a few weeks.”
“A few weeks? I finished college months ago. Do you have any idea what it feels like out here in the back of beyond with you breathing down my neck as if I don’t have a whit of common sense?”
Erin sat still and listened to the byplay going on while surreptitiously watching Max under her lashes. He was not happy—but she had no idea why. He was glaring at Rafael, almost as if the man were crossing some sort of line. Abruptly, Erin knew something else was lurking here, something below the surface that she wasn’t privy to—at least not yet.
“We’re not going to discuss this in front of our hosts,” Rafael rasped at his stepsister. We will not be rude, do you understand me? And stop badgering Mrs. Villarreal, she’s only just arrived.”
A rebellious line appearing on Nora’s lips, she crossed her arms over her chest and when Erin caught her gaze, the girl rolled her eyes again as if her stepbrother was a thorn in her side that she couldn’t shake.
Trying to suppress a grin at the feminine camaraderie that the girl so obviously needed, Erin turned to Rafael. “Please, call me Erin.” Then she glanced to Nora once again. “I’d love to take your Mule thingy out for a spin whenever you feel like company—as long as you don’t try to get me on a horse, I’d be happy to hang out one day. You could show me everything.”
Nora broke into a grin. “That will be great—”
“You can’t go alone,” Rafael announced sharply, holding Nora in his sights.
Nora swung her head around and glared at her stepbrother. “I’m not going alone. I’m taking Erin with me.”
“Nora—not now,” Rafael warned.
Jumping into the fray, as if to soothe the younger girl’s feelings, Max announced. “Yes, we’ll all go out for a drive one day soon. Would you like that, Nora?”
As Nora sat back and turned her glare on Max, even Erin understood why. Was the girl in a prison over there? And was this going to be her own fate as well? As a ribbon of unease curled down her spine, she decided to go ahead and test out her constraints now. She turned to Nora. “You know, there’s another thing that you and I could do if you’d like. Max and I got married in such a hurry that I don’t have much of anything. I need to shop! Where do you go around here?”
Nora sat up straighter as excitement began to shine in her eyes. “Nowhere around here, that’s for sure. We’ll go to Buenos Aires—that would be awesome!”
As Nora reacted exactly as she’d wished, Erin glanced at the two men. Both were frowning, but it was Rafael who jumped in. “That sounds excellent. The four of us will go one weekend, isn’t that right, Villarreal?”
Max nodded in agreement, but although his words agreed his tone sounded anything but excited. “Absolutely. Sounds great. Always love shopping.”
The blatant falsehood shown by his lack of emotion was all the impetus that Erin needed. “Max, there’s no reason for us to drag you guys along—surely you’ll be bored out of your mind. Nora and I will be fine—”
“No,” Max denied flatly.
And there it was—the denial she’d expected. “But—”
“We’ll discuss it later, Erin.”
Rafael stood to his feet and held out his hand to his stepsister, giving her no chance to refuse him. “Nora and I will get out of your hair. We only stopped by to welcome you, Erin. It’s been a pleasure to meet you and we’ll make plans soon, yes?”
Max stood as well and Erin followed suit, answering the man, “Yes, of course.”
As they walked the neighbors out and the door was firmly closed behind them, Erin turned on Max. “You’re not going to let me go shopping without you? Is that the way my life will be?”
The look he turned on her was antagonistic. “Do you speak Spanish? Do you know our currency or our laws? Do you know how to dial for an emergency in this country? Do you know what to do in a flash flood, which this region is prone to?”
Erin reared back. “Well, no—but I can learn all of those things.”
“Yes, and when you learn, then we will have a discussion about a trip to Buenos Aires without me. Until then, you will stay here or travel with me. You will have my protection until you learn these things for yourself.”
“Is that the real reason? That you’re worried about me? Or is it that you’re worried I’ll go back home the very first chance I get?”
“Erin. You need to get this through your head. I’m not holding you here—it’s your choice to stay. I’ll ask you one last time and then I don’t want to hear another word about it. Do you want to be my wife, or do you want to go back to America?”
“If I go home, you’ll go after my brothers.”
“Yes.”
“But—”
“Choose.” Steel came over his features, as his temper seemed to snap. “Choose now and get it over with.”
His anger set hers off to such a degree that she lost it. “You really piss me off—you know that?” His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist but she ignored it and continued, “You expect this to be easy for me—but it’s not. You expect me to believe you—but I don’t. I can’t. You expect me to do what you say—but I don’t think I can tolerate that!”
As she ended her tirade with a hostile glare, he tightened his hold around her wrist, and in a move that quickened her pulse, he twisted it behind her back and held it there while he stared down at her, his breathing changing rapidly. His glare was filled with hostility, fire, and impatience—and his hold on her was unbreakable. It wasn’t bruising or hurting, but it was inflexible, nonetheless.
His head started to come down and she tried to turn away, but his other hand shot up and held her face firmly. His mouth came down over hers, yet another facet of his personality introducing her to a different brand of kiss. His mouth opened fully over hers, forcing her lips apart as his tongue plunged inside. As he began to kiss her as if she had no input into the matter, her emotions splintered. She was immediately turned on, but she was pissed that his caveman tactics were so intoxicating. She felt a helpless sense of rage—and a horrible, ridiculous feminine craving for what she knew he could make her feel.
She wanted control over their relationship … at least some degree of control.
She began kissing him back, and the very second she did, she felt a change come over him. His anger seemed to flee, until all that was left was his ill-concealed desire for her.
It made a new wave of weakness overcome her—and gave her a hint of the control she craved. The feeling was heady, and she fell into the kiss even more. He continued to hold her arm captive behind her back as finally, she was forced to pull her mouth free for oxygen.
Opening her eyes, she found him looking down at her. Who was she fighting more? It didn’t matter, because fight him, she would, even if fighting her own needs was just as difficult. She began pushing against his hold, but he didn’t release her. Lifting her chin, she blistered him with her words. “You can let go of me now.”
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I?” he challenged.
“Because—”
He let out a bark of twisted laughter. “Because you want to get away from me now?” The look he treated her to contained a conflagration of twisted emotions. “You really think I fell for that simpering little smile you sent my way earlier? I know when you’re putting on a front. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me, Erin. I haven’t gotten this far in life by being stupid. But then again, maybe I have—maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I can see now that giving you time to come to terms with your life here has been a mistake.”
With that, he began dragging her down the hallway, and it wasn’t until they’d come to the stairway that his meaning became clear. He meant to do this now—right now. Her heart raced as her blood quickened. She began pulling on her arm as she set her feet firmly in place.
Chapter Eight
Max stalled in his tracks and turned around to face Erin, a storm cloud rolling over his features that made her panic continue to explode.
“I’m not going upstairs with you—you promised!”
His mouth flattened as he towered over her. “I didn’t promise anything. I tried something out—it didn’t work. Now we’re moving on.” With that, he began walking up the stairs, pulling her along after him.
“Max, stop!”
He snapped back around, his mouth set in lines of irritation. “What?”
“You can’t just—you can’t just—”
His eyes narrowed, even as he seemed to listen to her plea. But then her world suddenly tipped as a determined look came over his features and he scooped her up, one arm under her knees and the other under her back as he made short work of the staircase.
Pushing through to their suite, he swung her inside and dropped her to her feet as he bolted the door. Her legs feeling like mush, she abruptly decided that being on the offensive was better than running defense.
With that plan in mind, she planted her hands on her waist and came within inches of him, defiance coursing through her bloodstream. “It’s not happening, dude—think again. You promised and you’re going to live up to that promise, or by all that’s holy, you’ll wish you had. Just because I’ve agreed to stay here, do you honestly think that I have to make it easy on you by falling in with your plans? Bullshit. That’s not happening.”
An obvious look of irritation crossed his features as his jaw flexed. His head snapped to the side, indicating the bed, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Get on the damn bed.”
Her stomach flipped as a shameful shower of sparks cascaded around her at his guttural words. What was her plan again? What should her reactions be? She couldn’t think of that now, all she could do was react the way that she honestly felt—with defiance. “No.”
His lips flattened. “Now.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to obey the instincts screaming down her spine that were telling her to take a step back. “No.”
“Erin. Get on the fucking bed—or I’ll put you there myself.”
She glanced once at the bed and then back to him. Attempting to slide past him toward the door while keeping him in her sights, she bit out, “You get on the fucking bed—I’m going back downstairs.”
Her fingers had just reached the doorknob when he lifted her arm and held it against the door, his chest coming up and slamming into her back, pushing her breasts into the solid wood.
He hissed into her ear, “You’re going to learn to do as I say—understand me?”
She reared back against him, trying to get away. “I understand you’re nothing but an asshole.”
“Yeah? I’m your asshole husband,” he said as he continued to push into her back, his hands falling to grip her hips, his leg thrusting between hers. He angled slightly until she could feel the pressure and heat of his seeking, engorged erection lodged forcefully against her center, and any words congealed in her throat as a wave of sexual heat hit her from all sides.
Why the hell couldn’t she retain her sanity around him? What would it take? How could she give in to him and still come out the winner? She had to make a decision about how to respond and she had to make it now—she didn’t have time for further introspection.
She wanted two things—a chance to see if this crazy attraction could really turn into the perfect marriage—and she wanted him to call off his insane idea of revenge.
So, one step at a time. A perfect relationship wouldn’t come without sex. And fortunately for her—she wanted to have sex with him so badly she could taste it.
****
Max was seriously about to lose it. His goddamned cock was so hard it was about to explode—it was riding up between the rounded cheeks of her ass so erotically that he couldn’t contain a single pump of his hips—and then another. He had to be careful. He could come so easily like this, dry humping her.
He felt her reaction when she stiffened and then abruptly went slack, her muscles relaxing as she turned soft and pliable. It confused the fuck out of him. He’d expected her to keep fighting, both verbally and physically—and he’d expected to have to stop, because force wasn’t acceptable to him.
But she didn’t continue fighting. She went limp between him and the door, almost as if she couldn’t fight—or didn’t want to fight with him any longer.
He wasn’t buying it.
He flipped her around until she faced him, his dick crammed against the softness of her stomach. She arched her back and looked up, her eyes wide and focused directly on his.
“What’s your game?” he bit out, wanting nothing more than to delve into her head and see her thoughts so he’d know how to get the response from her that he needed.
“Game?” she asked on a puff of air, her eyes looking wild for a moment, the pulse in her throat working convulsively.
“Why aren’t you fighting me anymore?”
“I don’t want to fight anymore—I can’t fight anymore.”
He felt confusion at her words, but only allowed his impatience to show in his voice. “Why the hell not?”
Her eyes held his—and then dropped to the floor as if she couldn’t maintain the intimate contact.
She continued to look down as he studied her—he needed to see inside her head like he needed air to breathe. She was so fucking beautiful, she had him tied in knots. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her lashes ridiculously long—everything about her was driving him wild. He wanted to keep her locked inside this room so badly he almost couldn’t fight the feeling. His eyes dropped to her heaving breasts and he couldn’t contain the groan that rattled from his throat.
She jerked her face up at the sound and their eyes clashed and held. “Max—”
He cut her words off with the force of his lips on hers. She stiffened for a single second and, not allowing her time to get away, he clamped his hands over her shoulders. Her body immediately turned rigid, her muscles tensing, her mouth set firmly in a flat line beneath his.
He couldn’t stand it—he couldn’t wait. He’d been a fucking fool to promise her time to adjust. He continued to kiss her, continued to ignore the wall she’d put up between them since the moment they’d met—the wall that had become even more impenetrable since he’d brought her aboard his plane.
He needed to feel her softness; it had to be now. He trailed his hand to her breast and she whimpered against his mouth. He kneaded her soft flesh but it wasn’t enough to take the edge off. Overcome with the need to take what he wanted, he jerked her shirt up and found her breast covered by the flimsy cotton of her bra. His fingers sank around her soft flesh as he pushed his hips against her, once, twice, and again, in a parody of sex meant to entice her and to soothe him.
She made a tiny mewling noise and then her muscles relaxed again as all residual fight seem to leave her. As if giving up entirely, her arms wrapped around his neck, and elation hit him from all sides at her silent invitation. Unable to slow down, he plunged his tongue inside to taste her wet heat. He wanted all of her, he’d never let her get away from him. Yes, all of her. With that thought ringing in his head he had one realization—they were married and he wasn’t going to use a condom. He was clean and she was protected against pregnancy—there was zero reason to use anything more. He wanted to feel her inner walls surround him and milk him; he wanted her bare slick pussy around the hardness of his cock—just the thought was sending beads of sweat coursing down his spine. Jesus, yes, he wanted to mark her as his—he wanted to feel himself thrusting against naked skin. He admitted that revenge had no part in his thought process; this was another way he wanted to bind her to him—the ultimate act of intimacy. He needed that with Erin as he’d never needed it with anyone before her. He wanted to push naked inside her, he needed to mark her with his seed—the thought was driving him berserk. And someday, someday, by God, she wouldn’t be protected against pr
egnancy as she was now—and then he’d really get what he wanted.
Scooping her up, he took her to the bed and tossed her in the middle, supremely intent on only one thing. He came down over her on all fours, swooping down for another heated kiss. The involuntary tremors of her body set him off—she was as intoxicating now as she’d been the first moment he saw her. More so even now—because now she was his.
He lifted his head and studied her, trying to figure her out through the desire clouding his mind. Her eyes remained closed, her head moving from side to side on the pillow as if agitated. He couldn’t stand it any longer, he wanted her naked and he wanted it now. This game between them would have to wait. He’d allow her to pit her intelligence against his another time. Now—right now—he needed to fuck her hard and fast. He needed to feel her come. He needed her slick and wet as her orgasm milked him.
He wanted her naked, and he didn’t think he was capable of taking the time to woo her away from her clothing a piece at a time. Fuck that. Driven by the primal need to see her silky skin, he jerked her shirt and bra over her head and tossed them aside. He made short work of her shoes and then her lower garments as well. He watched as her eyes opened, her pupils dilating.
He stared down at her nakedness, the necklace he’d given her the previous day glimmering against her skin as if he’d collared her. Another wave of possessiveness hit his bloodstream—he’d felt this way about her from the start. He damn sure didn’t understand it, but he’d never been good at sharing his things, and that must be where the emotion was based. She was his, therefore he wasn’t sharing—not a damn bit—ever. And the sight of his necklace wrapped around her neck like a collar of jewels only made the feeling more intense.
A man on a mission, he stood up and ripped the clothes from his body until he was as naked as she was. Her eyes stayed glued to his the entire time, her pupils huge, her nipples hardening in response, her thighs trembling, her pulse quivering so quickly that he could see it in her neck.