Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3) - Page 20

“You!” she all but screamed. “You’re an ass and I can’t take it anymore.”

“No? Where exactly do you think you’d go?”

“I don’t know, Shreveport maybe—but it’s really none of your business,” she said, still unable to stop shooting off her mouth with threats. “You were a two-week interlude in my life, nothing more. It won’t take me an hour before—”

Her words were cut off abruptly when he swooped down and took her mouth under his with a force that was meant to silence her. His hands found hers and wrapped around them, stopping them from going to his chest to push him away as had been her intention.

It was the first time in her life that she’d experienced such an angry kiss. A furious kiss, and the fury came from both of them. He pushed his tongue inside and she pulled hers back. When she tried to bite him, he retaliated sharply. With one hand manacling hers to the wall, he released her other hand and made a grab for her chin, holding her tightly. He pulled her chin down and began kissing her for all he was worth, pushing his hips against hers, his belt buckle biting into her stomach.

As he continued to hold her contained, her anger escalated for a few seconds before she began noticing things—erotic things.

His scent hit her first. No bourbon this time, just horses and leather and hay—all outdoor, woodsy scents that affected her femininity whether she wanted them to or not.

The hand that held hers held on tightly—but his thumb began caressing the back of her hand, stroking her skin back and forth, repetitively, just as his tongue took strokes in and out of her mouth, mimicking the sex act.

It was a conflagration of the senses that was almost too much to bear. She whimpered against his mouth—and his reaction came instantaneously. His grip softened, his hips pressing more lightly as his kiss became caressing instead of punishing.

Just when she thought she had her head screwed on straight, just when she thought she’d gained the tiniest bit of control over the situation, he screwed it all to hell by changing tactics on her.

Gentleness from Jeff McIntyre would screw up anybody.

With her free hand, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, allowing herself to kiss him back for a few seconds. And then a stroke of sanity hit—she began pulling on his head in an effort to free herself from his kiss, needing to retain a modicum of control which being in his arms didn’t allow.

He growled a low warning in his throat, but he lifted his head. His eyes were glazed, almost out of control, but then he seemed to refocus as he shook his head, clearing it.

He released his hold on her chin, but his fingers ran up and speared through her hair. His eyes locked on hers as he studied her for a moment. “You fuck me up.”

She licked her lips in agitation. “What?”

“You fuck me up.” He released her from his hold and turned away, running a hand through his short locks in agitation. “I don’t know what I’m saying around you. I don’t know what the hell kind of game you’re playing, or if you’re playing a game at all. I don’t have a fucking clue—maybe I’m going crazy.”

His confusion immediately made her feel better. She wasn’t the only one being turned inside out by this crazy relationship. She didn’t want to pack up and leave—she really didn’t. But she knew she had to maintain some control over the relationship, although she didn’t know exactly how to make that happen. “You make me crazy, too,” she admitted in a whisper.

At her words, he very slowly turned back to face her, the panther-like glide of his body again hitting her as one of the sexiest things about him. A pensive expression lit his features as he lifted a hand, balled it up and began tapping his mouth with his fist as he seemed to ponder her words. His brows turned downward. “You won’t leave, then?” he asked, not giving away anything other than what the question itself gave away.

She shook her head, refusing to allow her hands to fumble.

He crossed the carpeted area between them with a slow tread and came to stand within her personal space. His movements were measured, as if not to spook her. With one finger, he gently tipped up her chin. “We’ll keep playing it by ear, then.” As she remained silent under his touch, his finger left her chin and his hand slid around her cheekbone, cradling it gently as if she were made from some finely spun gold. “I realize I’m hard to live with, sweetheart—I know I can be an ass—but I’m going to work on that, okay?” His other hand came to land on her butt with a firm but unthreatening hold, stroking her with a temperate touch.

His placid, almost tender touch on her was not only a first, it was blowing her mind in a good way. That he had this gentle side to him was something she’d very much needed to experience in that moment in time. His mouth came down to her ear and he let her feel his breath, and it sent tingles down her spine. The gentle kiss he gave her was mesmerizing, bewitching her with the need to know more of this softer side of him.

But then his hips came against hers and she felt his erection at the same time she felt the sudden tension that overcame him. His muscles became like finely tempered steel as the hand that held her cheekbone slid into her hair, grasping her with the same sinewy strength she’d come to recognize. His head lifted as his gaze zeroed in on her with unwavering attention.

He searched her face as if looking for answers. When she remained completely still and silent, his expression became hooded. He stared at her for many long seconds as her heart beat fiercely. Finally, dropping his hands from her, he stepped back and made his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he snapped his head toward her and impaled her with eyes that held a savage, feral warning. “We’re going to play this by ear as long as I can,” he snapped out, pausing as if looking for control but finding none. “But just so you’ll know—just so you’ll know what you’ll be facing next Saturday if you deliberately antagonize me again—”

His words stalled and as a weak, quivery feeling settled in her stomach at his threat, she couldn’t help herself. “What? What will happen?”

The tip of his tongue came out and he wet his lip, before gritting his teeth. “Let’s just say—it won’t be pretty.”

With that, he twisted the knob and walked from the room, leaving her all but reeling.

****

So damn close. He’d been so fucking close to doing and saying exactly what his brain was demanding—but then he’d blown it at the last moment. He’d opened his goddamn mouth and let his cock take control of his words. His cock, and the dark, inner brooding SOB who’d been fighting for control of his brain since the moment she’d stepped foot on his ranch.

So amateur. Such a fuck-up; he’d almost had her. The gentleness he’d used, that strangely, had come ridiculously easy, had made her tongue-tied and damn near helpless. And he wanted that shy, wholesome sweetness underneath him—in his life. Wanted it bad. His muscles tensed. He needed her capitulation. He needed her submission, every day at noon. Shit, he wanted her in his bed at night but knew he wasn’t going to get that, not with their situation, not any time soon.

He should have kept a firmer grip on his emotions, but goddammit, she tested his control constantly—most times, without even trying. But still, the threat he’d made had been truthful, from his gut. No matter how nice he intended to play, no matter how damn seductive he intended to be—if the girl went to Parker’s again the next week, there’d be hell to pay—for both of them.

Chapter Seven

On Monday, at nine-thirty in the morning, the school phoned the house and when Janet picked up, she was told that Zach was ill, running a fever and needed to be picked up, pronto.

She had no instructions from Jeff for a situation like this. Not expecting that he’d want her to actually pick up his kid from school without permission, she decided to try to hunt the man down to relay the message.

She used the infant carrier for Hannah, strapping the baby to her front and clipping in the buckles to keep her firmly in place against her chest. Janet didn’t expect she’d be gone fro

m the house for long, but Hannah was a chubby, healthy little baby and she knew her child could get heavy at times.

Setting off for the barn, she walked at a fairly brisk pace because she was worried about Zach. One of the overhead doors on the steel structure was open, so she walked through. The amount of activity going on inside almost floored her as her feet came to a halt while she looked around.

One man was on a forklift, moving a pallet down from the top of the building. Two more men were welding, forging something they were working on with metal against metal.

A fourth man walked from an interior office and came to a screeching halt when he saw her. “Whoa,” he mumbled as his feet came to a complete halt. “Where’d you come from, darlin’?”

The man was tall and good looking, about her age. And the fact that he was looking at her as if she was sex personified struck her as extremely funny—especially since she had an infant strapped to her chest. She smiled as she answered his question and stated her business. “I came from the house. I’m Janet—the new housekeeper. Do you know where Jeff is?”

“Sure do,” he nodded, but then made no effort to answer her question in any other way as he changed the subject in less than a heartbeat. “You got a husband, angel? A daddy for that baby or somebody else I need to get in line behind?”

“Jonah!” she heard Jeff shout in a loud bark as he walked from the barn office and saw them. “Get the hell back to work.”

The man called Jonah smiled a smile that was probably meant to tempt her, and then he tipped his hat and strolled away.

Jeff stood in the entrance to the office, his face stamped in lines of accusation. His eyes narrowed into slits as he tipped his head for her to come to him.

She did, but only because she needed to tell him about Zach. Seriously, did the man ever try to tone down his reactions? Did he have no filter whatsoever?

When she was within reaching distance, he immediately took the opportunity and imprisoned her wrist. He pulled her inside the room and then shut and locked the door, his irritation more than apparent.

Tags: Lynda Chance Redwood Falls Romance
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