held back, that had always remained aloof.
She wasn’t aloof with Zeke. She wanted to beg. She wanted to plead with him not to stop, not to take the warmth away from her. Not to steal his touch when she had waited so damned long for it.
A second later, he was easing back from her. Rogue forced her knees to unclamp, forced herself to find her footing as he slowly, so slowly released her, then stepped back from her.
“Did you get all you wanted?” She resorted to sarcasm to keep from crying. “If so, as I said before, you know where the door is.”
She turned, almost stumbled actually, to get away from him and find the relative comfort of her bedroom, her big bathtub, heated bubbles that in no way would replace his touch.
“I’m too old for you, Rogue; you know that as well as I do.”
A second later she found herself pulled against his chest, her back flush against him, absorbing his heat and his anger.
She shook her head slowly. “It’s not the age, Zeke,” she said softly. “That’s your excuse. Why don’t you just admit it? Your reputation can’t afford me, and we both know it.”
Silence filled the air between them. She felt his fingers tighten at her hips, his chest expand behind her.
“You think I won’t fuck you because you could hurt my reputation?” There was an edge of mockery to his voice that was cutting. “Oh, Rogue, sweetheart, you have no damned idea how wrong you are. I won’t fuck you, baby, because I know what no one else knows. I know exactly why a relationship with me would destroy both of us.”
“Oh really?” She didn’t see destruction. She saw the need, the aching, dark loneliness that no one else could help ease. A hunger that only Zeke could fulfill. That she had always known only Zeke could fulfill. “And what is it that you think you know?”
“I know, Caitlyn Rogue, how very innocent you are next to me and what I know I’ll end up taking from you. You’re not a woman who will let a man fuck her for the emotionless pleasure of it. You’re not a woman who could ever give what I need easily. And you’re not a woman a man can walk away from without regrets. You’re too young for those regrets. And I’m too damned old to want to see them strapped on you. Think about that. Remember that. Because the next time you invite me to your bed, you just might find more there than you expected.”
If he expected her to take veiled threats and innuendo as an excuse, then he’d better be thinking on that one again.
She tossed him an angry little snarl as she jerked out of his arms.
“What, Zeke, do you like to get frisky with your handcuffs?” she snapped, turning on him and nearly bursting into flames at the look on his face. “Do you like to play the big, bad sheriff when you fuck your women?”
His lips quirked with an edge of amusement that she simply didn’t appreciate. Almost a smile as those predatory brown eyes roved over the loosened front of the leather vest.
“Me getting frisky with the handcuffs would be the least of your problems,” he growled back at her, and she almost believed him.
She pretended to shiver. “Should I whimper and beg for mercy?”
“Probably.” There was a grunt of laughter. “One thing is for damned sure, you’d end up spanked. Does that smart mouth of yours ever stop?”
“Only when I’m kissing cowardly sheriffs with more excuses than handcuffs.” She smiled tightly. “Go home, Zeke. I’m tired of playing with you tonight. I tell you what, the next time I’m in the mood for a little slap and tickle I’ll give you a call. Seems that’s all you’re willing to put out at any given time.”
Oh, she was pissed. She glared back at him, seeing the amusement, the careful watchfulness he displayed. He thought he could walk into her home and just play the big, bad dominant lover throwing out his little warnings? Who the hell was he this week? The dom from hell? Bullshit. She’d heard how the sheriff liked to fuck for
She wasn’t aloof with Zeke. She wanted to beg. She wanted to plead with him not to stop, not to take the warmth away from her. Not to steal his touch when she had waited so damned long for it.
A second later, he was easing back from her. Rogue forced her knees to unclamp, forced herself to find her footing as he slowly, so slowly released her, then stepped back from her.
“Did you get all you wanted?” She resorted to sarcasm to keep from crying. “If so, as I said before, you know where the door is.”
She turned, almost stumbled actually, to get away from him and find the relative comfort of her bedroom, her big bathtub, heated bubbles that in no way would replace his touch.
“I’m too old for you, Rogue; you know that as well as I do.”
A second later she found herself pulled against his chest, her back flush against him, absorbing his heat and his anger.
She shook her head slowly. “It’s not the age, Zeke,” she said softly. “That’s your excuse. Why don’t you just admit it? Your reputation can’t afford me, and we both know it.”
Silence filled the air between them. She felt his fingers tighten at her hips, his chest expand behind her.
“You think I won’t fuck you because you could hurt my reputation?” There was an edge of mockery to his voice that was cutting. “Oh, Rogue, sweetheart, you have no damned idea how wrong you are. I won’t fuck you, baby, because I know what no one else knows. I know exactly why a relationship with me would destroy both of us.”
“Oh really?” She didn’t see destruction. She saw the need, the aching, dark loneliness that no one else could help ease. A hunger that only Zeke could fulfill. That she had always known only Zeke could fulfill. “And what is it that you think you know?”
“I know, Caitlyn Rogue, how very innocent you are next to me and what I know I’ll end up taking from you. You’re not a woman who will let a man fuck her for the emotionless pleasure of it. You’re not a woman who could ever give what I need easily. And you’re not a woman a man can walk away from without regrets. You’re too young for those regrets. And I’m too damned old to want to see them strapped on you. Think about that. Remember that. Because the next time you invite me to your bed, you just might find more there than you expected.”
If he expected her to take veiled threats and innuendo as an excuse, then he’d better be thinking on that one again.
She tossed him an angry little snarl as she jerked out of his arms.
“What, Zeke, do you like to get frisky with your handcuffs?” she snapped, turning on him and nearly bursting into flames at the look on his face. “Do you like to play the big, bad sheriff when you fuck your women?”
His lips quirked with an edge of amusement that she simply didn’t appreciate. Almost a smile as those predatory brown eyes roved over the loosened front of the leather vest.
“Me getting frisky with the handcuffs would be the least of your problems,” he growled back at her, and she almost believed him.
She pretended to shiver. “Should I whimper and beg for mercy?”
“Probably.” There was a grunt of laughter. “One thing is for damned sure, you’d end up spanked. Does that smart mouth of yours ever stop?”
“Only when I’m kissing cowardly sheriffs with more excuses than handcuffs.” She smiled tightly. “Go home, Zeke. I’m tired of playing with you tonight. I tell you what, the next time I’m in the mood for a little slap and tickle I’ll give you a call. Seems that’s all you’re willing to put out at any given time.”
Oh, she was pissed. She glared back at him, seeing the amusement, the careful watchfulness he displayed. He thought he could walk into her home and just play the big, bad dominant lover throwing out his little warnings? Who the hell was he this week? The dom from hell? Bullshit. She’d heard how the sheriff liked to fuck for
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