Rule Breaker (Breeds 20)

“The light switch is on your left,” she told him, waiting, her irritation edging along her scent now.

His lips quirked as he reached out and flipped on the light before drawing her inside.

“Sorry, habit,” he assured her. “Some habits are better not broken, no matter the situation.”

She nodded, moving into the apartment and closing the door behind her, automatically stopping to lock the deadbolt as well as the heavy chain lock between the door and the frame.

“I’ve lived here since I was eighteen,” she told him, though he swore he could feel something that she was leaving unsaid.

“Your sister still lives with your parents?” he asked, following her from the small foyer into the combination kitchen and living room.

“The apartment downstairs.” She gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “She moved into it last year.”

The apartment was large, open and roomy. Large windows dominated three walls, while the other held an open door that revealed her bedroom and a large, neat bed.

She turned on several low lamps before moving into the kitchen.

“I have some wine,” she told him, hesitating at the combination bar and counter that separated the two rooms.

“That’s fine.” He nodded. Not that he cared much for wine, but he could feel her nervousness building as he watched her.

Tilting her neck as though to stretch the tightness from it, she moved into the kitchen area, reached beneath the cabinet and pulled free a surprisingly recognizable wine.

It was one of the sweeter wines, he saw. The same brand the Pride Leader’s wife preferred when drinking a glass before going to bed.

She opened it, filled two wineglasses, then set aside the empty bottle. Handing one glass to him, she led the way into the living room.

Rule watched as she curled herself into the corner of the couch, watching him as he sat, not too close to her, but not too far away.

She was too nervous.

He could feel her, ready to jump and run at a moment’s notice as that elusive scent of fear strengthened marginally.

Turning his head, he stared at her for long moments, suspicion biting at his control as he sipped at the wine, watching as she did as well, and seeing the fine tremor in her fingers.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this to her.

“You never date. You never allow any man to dance too closely to you and never allow them to even consider that they could have a chance to leave with you. You’ve had no lovers, and you’ve had no relationships. Yet you’re twenty-four years old and I know you’re not a cold woman. The warmth of you flows over my senses, and the scent of your feminine need has me so hard I’ll carry the brand of my zipper on my cock long after I shed my pants. So tell me, Gypsy,” he asked her, watching her stiffen until she was so tense a good wind could have broken bones, “why is your life in deep freeze?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, and that lie filled her entire expression as well as her scent.

“I intend to share that bed in there with you,” he stated. “And don’t bother denying any chance that I’ll make it there. We both know I will. Before I do so, I’d like to know any obstacle that would stand in the way of the pleasure I can give you.”

“Aren’t you just as cool as you can be?” When she lifted her head, those witchy eyes glared back at him as she gripped the wineglass with both hands now. “You just state your intent and think I’m going to just follow along with you? Just because you decree it?”

Reaching forward, he placed his own wineglass on the low coffee table before turning back to her and lifting his brows. “It’s a thought. I could live with the idea of it.”

“Well, bully for you, badass.” Gripping the glass in one hand once again, she lifted it to her lips, finished it, then all but broke the glass when she placed it on the table as well, but with a much heavier hand. “I knew this was a mistake.”

She moved from the couch with a suddenness that had absolutely no attempt at subtlety.

He’d played with her in the past weeks, letting her get away, letting her run.

He was tired of watching her run.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He was at her side, the fingers of one hand shackling her wrist as she stared back at him in surprise.

“I’m tired of being bullied by you.”