Wild Card (11 page)

"I don't have to ignore what isn't going to happen and what doesn't exist," she retorted

desperately.

"It's going to happen."

She stood still. She should be fighting him, running, screaming, or something. Anything but

standing here, feeling her knees weaken, as his head lowered, his gaze holding hers, his lips

coming closer.

"Don't," she whispered when his lips were but a breath away from hers. "Don't turn this into a war."

"It's already a war," he warned her, his voice grating, so rough. Unnaturally so, she realized as she let herself see the scars beneath the rasp of beard. "Give me your kiss, Sabella. You want

to. You know we both need to."

He spoke against her lips, and they parted helplessly. Her hands gripped his wrists, something

inside her clenched in longing, in desperation.

"Enough." She jerked away, but he pulled her forward.

Before Sabella could react, before she could escape, pleasure swamped her.

His lips were on hers. They covered hers. Slanted over them, parted them, and she was lost.

The kiss rocked her in places she didn't know she could be rocked. It was dark, forceful,

dominant.

Within seconds he had her against the door, lifting her against him and pushing his tongue

inside her mouth as Sabella heard her own, half-frightened, half-shocked cry of pleasure.

"That's what you want," he accused as his head jerked back, lust flaming in his eyes and

burning in her veins. "You want it, Sabella. Just as hot and just as wild as I do. Be careful,

sweetheart, very damned careful, or you just might get it before you're ready for it."

Sabella felt pinned before him in shock. Pleasure was coursing through her; the dark, dominant

power of that kiss had awakened something she knew she didn't want to face. Something she

wasn't ready for.

She pulled back slowly. "Tell Rory I'll see him at closing."

"Running?" he growled as she turned and headed for the entrance to the door that led outside.

Sabella turned back, her gaze flickering over him, seeing the bulge in those pants, the hunger in

his eyes.

"Stay away from me, Noah," she told him bleakly. "I don't need you. I don't want you. All I want is for you to be gone."

Lies. All lies and she knew it as she pushed through the door and almost ran the distance

between the garage and the house on the hill. The house she had shared with the only man

capable of doing what Noah had just done. The only man who had ever awakened a desire she

couldn't control, one she couldn't combat. If she didn't get away from him, and get away from

him now, then Sabella knew, she was looking at nothing but more pain, more loss. Noah wasn't

the staying kind. He wasn't the loving kind. He wasn't her husband.

Sabella managed to avoid Noah the next day, and the day after that. She could feel his gaze on

her as she worked in the office. When he came into the office, she escaped to the convenience

store. If she worked in the garage, she worked far enough away from him that she could almost

ignore the rough rasp of his voice.

Something had happened to his voice. It grated too deep, it was too rough, too gravelly. The

scars on his face, the fine web of them beneath the hairs on his muscular arms, made her

wonder at the hint of them that she had seen peeking beneath the collar on his shirt. What had

happened to him? It would take a lot to scar a man that powerful, in such a horrible way.

No matter where she moved, she could feel his gaze on her though, and she could feel that kiss

that had burned through her and left her shaking and weak for hours.

She could feel the tension ratcheting up the next evening in the garage. Each time he tried to

speak to her, each move he made in her direction, she went the other way. She didn't want to

deal with this. Her life was fine without him in it. She was fine alone. A date every now and

then was okay. And though Duncan was pushing for more, it hadn't yet reached the point where

she was going to have to break the relationship off. She enjoyed the companionship. She

enjoyed his laughter. And she feared Noah's intensity.

She almost escaped him one more day, until closing. Rory left and the others followed close on

his heels, closing down the garage and leaving Sabella alone in the office as Noah entered.

"We need to talk," he told her as she shoved the money bag in her purse and felt her heart rate accelerate.

"No time," she told him. "I have a date tonight. That means I need to get out of here on time."

"The hell you do."

He stomped to the door, twisted the locks with a snap of motion that had her flinching at the

savagery in it. Then before she could evade him he snagged her wrist and pulled her to the

stairs that led to the apartment above.

"What the hell—"

"Stop cussin' at me, Sabella," he growled, pulling her up the stairs. "We're finishing this. Here and now."

"Finishing what?" She jerked at his hold as he pushed her ahead of him and into the apartment

she had once shared with Nathan.

She should be screaming, she should be trying to kick him, punch him, not let him drag her,

with only minimal struggle, into the large apartment.

A leather duffel bag had been tossed on the couch. There was a box on the cabinet, evidently

some groceries. He was moving right in, taking right over, she realized. Here, where she and

Nathan had first made love, where he had proposed to her, made love to her that first time.

Suddenly, the thought of another man here was intolerable.

"Move right back out." She turned on him, shaking at the sight of another man's possessions in

Nathan's space. '"Now. Get out now!"

A haze of heat was flooding her. Fury. She told herself it was fury and nothing more.

He snorted at that. "Rory was nice enough to stock me up with groceries while I was working

my ass off on those cars downstairs," he said. "The hell I'm leaving."

"I don't want you here. Get out before I call the sheriff." She was furious. He was staring back at her as though he owned the apartment, the garage, and her. He was staring at her as if she

were pushing him too far.

But she wasn't backing off. She wanted him out of her life now, before it was too late.

"And you think I'm going to let the sheriff run me off?" he asked her, his ruined voice sending shivers up her spine.

Sabella stopped and stared back at him. He looked dangerous, the tension surrounding him was

dangerous, so why wasn't she frightened? Where had she managed to lose all the common

sense she had once possessed?

"Why are you here?" She stared back at him, the anger and disbelief coalescing inside her.

"What the hell makes you think you can just walk into my life and take over like this?"

He turned away from her a second, obviously hiding something or fighting to control his

temper, she wasn't certain which. When he turned back to her, she took an instinctive step away

from him.

"You're running from yourself, Sabella. Why?"

In a sudden moment of insight, Sabella knew he wasn't going anywhere, and his expression

assured her that she couldn't force it. Rory had hired him, and he owned half of the business.

He had as much right to loan out the apartment as she did. And he could hire anyone he wanted

to hire.

She and Nathan had agreed to that before they ever married. Should anything ever happen to

him, then half of the business that he had built would go to Rory, because he knew their father

would never leave the other man anything.

She was stuck with Noah until he decided on his own that it was time for him to leave, and that

was all there was to it.

"I'm not running from anything except a man that's taking too damned much for granted.

You're not a Malone, Mr. Blake. You're nothing here and you never will be." She turned and

took the first step to the door. One step, and in the next second she found herself against the

door, firmly, if gently, held in place by the big, hard body suddenly pressing her into it.

Her breath caught. She felt surrounded, suddenly hot and weak. His head was beside hers, his

cheek rubbing against her hair, his hands holding her in place as the feel of his erection pressed

into her lower back.

"Why are you so frightened of this?" he whispered then. "Or are you just too frightened to live again?"

"Live for you?'" she scoffed. "You don't measure a tenth of what my husband was, and I didn't need him to live. I sure as hell don't need you to do it."

"And does Sykes make you feel alive?" he asked her. "Does he tell you how perfect you are?

Touch you like you'll break and whisper roses and candy?" He sneered. "Is that really what you

need, Sabella?"

"You bastard!" She fought him.

She twisted around, her knee slamming up, only to find Noah lifting her, parting her thighs

until the thick, hard length of his erection was pressed against her and his lips were slamming

down over hers.

The rasp of his beard and mustache was unfamiliar. His lips were hard, hungry. They took hers,

he didn't ask, he didn't hesitate. As though he knew a need inside her that she didn't know

herself.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was ravenous. It was laced with such hunger and elemental lust that it

struck a flame to some hidden spark inside her own body.

Her body suddenly had a mind of its own. Her arms latched around his neck, her fingers dug

into the thick, wild mane of his hair, and she was dragging him closer.

It had been so long. So long since a man had touched her body, since the need for touch, other

than Nathan's, had even been a thought in her mind. And now, it was exploding inside her.

A sharp, furious cry tore from her throat as his tongue pierced the seam of her lips, licking at

hers before drawing back. She pulled at his hair harder, nipped his lower lip, bit at it. Within a

breath she was flattened between the door and his body and it was all over but the hunger and

the want driving inside her.

One hard hand tangled in her hair, jerked her head back.

He wasn't easy, and she didn't want easy. She wanted the burn and the force and the impossible

demand rising between them.

Her knees tightened on powerful lean flanks, her hips moved, writhed against his, driving his

cock harder against her through the layers of denim separating them.

She heard him growl something, groan something. His hand tightened in her hair and he

dragged her head back farther, his lips at her chin, her jaw, nipping and licking.

"Ride me," he snarled at her ear, his beard rough against the lobe as she twisted against him.

"This is what I want, Sabella. Right here." One hand gripped her butt, holding her closer as she ground herself on his erection.

The seam of her jeans bit into her clit, the spike of sensation making her crazy for more. She

was wet and growing wetter. She could feel her clit swelling, her sex heating and growing

slick, saturated with her need.

"Ride me, Sabella," he bit out again. "Oh yeah, baby, rub against me." He was rubbing against her, his hips thrusting against her, digging his flesh harder between her thighs.

She lowered her hands and gripped the material of his T-shirt, dragging it up his back. She had

to touch. She had to feel his flesh beneath her hands. She whimpered as his lips came back to

hers, as she pulled and jerked at the material until he suddenly shifted, drawing his upper body

back just enough to tear the shirt over his head before he was back to her. Kissing her. One

hand in her hair, the other kneading her ass.

Oh yes. This was what she needed. The heat of his body seemed to sink into hers. She could

feel him burning against her palms as she let them stroke over his shoulders. She could feel a

crisscrossed roughness, the scars she had known marked his body. Her nails scraped over his

flesh before he nipped at her lips again and she dug her nails into his flesh with a cry and held

on.

Because they were moving. The world was twisting, tilting, until she felt her back meet the

leather of the couch and heard the thump of his duffel bag as he pushed it to the floor and came

over her.

His lips never left hers. He didn't give her a chance to think and she didn't want one. His hands

gripped her shirt, tore it out of her jeans, and before she could process the action he had it and

her bra above her breasts.

A hard, peaked nipple felt his beard first. It scraped over the tip, drawing her back into a arch a

second before his lips brushed it, then his mouth took it.

His hips pressed harder into the vee of her thighs. He rode her mercilessly, taking her despite

the material separating them, driving her closer to a brink she hadn't known in years. Her hips

lifted to him, writhing back, rubbing into him as her head dug into the cushions of the couch

and her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him closer.

It was so good. So hot and liquid. Little starbursts were exploding before her eyes, sensations

ripping across her nerve endings.

"Now." He jerked back, grabbed her head roughly and lowered his chest to her. "Touch me,

damn you. Touch me, Sabella."

She bit him. Her teeth buried into hard, thick muscle before the wildness of the act took over.

She nipped at the hard flat discs of his male nipples, licked at them, sucked at one. Her hands

roamed over his back, only dimly acknowledging the scars there.