To his utter shock, Kerra shoved him off her, kicked away the covers, and got up. She stood beside the bed, he lay sprawled on it on his back, and for the next several seconds, they just gaped at each other, breath rushing through open mouths, she looking as startled as he by her action.
Then he shouted, “What the fuck?”
Kerra yanked the sides of her jacket together and zipped it over her t-shirt so the damp spot molded to her nipple wouldn’t show. “I won’t be one of your ‘fuck anythings.’”
His eyes were blank, but when he realized what she was referring to, he got up and faced off with her. “That’s what this interruptus is about?” He flung his arm out to his side. “I only said that to make a point.”
“Oh, so it’s not true?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His arm dropped to his side.
She laughed softly, but there was no humor behind it.
He pushed his fingers up through his hair and walked a tight circle of frustration. He looked down at the bed. He looked at her breasts as though he could see the damp spot through the jacket. When his eyes lifted to hers, he said, “It’s not like that.”
“No?”
“No, dammit.”
“What sets me apart, Trapper? What makes me special?”
He copped an attitude. “I don’t know. Let’s see. Could it be your face? The silky hair I want to feel sliding across my belly? The hot body I want to finger paint? The way you move? Your voice? Name something. All I know is, ever since I laid eyes on you I’ve been one big boner.” He took a step toward her. “And forgive me for pointing out that you—”
“Don’t.” She held up her hand, palm out. “Please don’t say something vulgar that’s going to make me angrier.”
“Hold on. You’re angry at me?”
“No, at myself.”
He smoldered, all six feet four of him rocking slightly, as he waited for her to elaborate.
“I saw how women react to you,” she said. “Furthermore, I saw how you know how they react to you. You’re everything bad-boy wrong, which makes you everything desirable, and, yes, even knowing better than to fall for the sexy charm, I did.” She gestured toward the bed. “But it wasn’t fair to you to let it go that far. I’m sorry.”
He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his hip, which was risky since his jeans remained unbuttoned and low-slung. He squinted one eye as he looked at her. “In addition to being bad-boy wrong, etcetera, know what else I am? Smart. And I have a built-in, fool-proof manure detector, and everything you just said is pure bullshit.”
She was about to deny it, but he overrode her.
“You wanted me moving inside you just as much as I wanted to be. You didn’t call it off because your better judgment suddenly asserted itself or you got turned off by my alley cat ways.
“No, you called it off because you still don’t trust me. You’re scared. You think I’m either a paranoid lunatic who dreams up conspiracy theories or an embittered son with so much pent-up rage against my famous father that I tried to kill him.”
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed.
“No?”
“If I didn’t trust you, if I was still afraid of you, would I be here?”
“Then what is it, Kerra?”
Matching him in angry volume, she said, “I don’t know how this is going to end.”
“This what? This quarrel? This—”
“This whole thing. The way you laid it out last night, we’re in a precarious situation. If it’s as dangerous as you indicate, the outcome could be that we both wind up dead.”
He dropped some of the attitude. “A valid concern. But you knew that last night. Before you made the choice to stick with me, I made it clear that if you did, you’d be taking a huge risk.”
With my life, yes, but not with my heart.