Stealing His Heart (Shillings Agency 2)

His jaw hardened, and he caught her elbow as she passed. His grip was firm and yet somehow soft, all at the same time. “Make no mistake. If you were mine, I’d have you bent over the arm of the couch right now for that little show, and you’d be begging for my permission to come.”

Her stomach twisted in knots. His permission? She didn’t know if that infuriated her or turned her on. All she knew was her body was saying yes please. She tore free of his grip. He let her. “I don’t beg.”

“Correction: you haven’t begged yet.” He looked her up and down, from head to toe, his shadowed gaze speaking of promises she wanted to collect on. But not tonight. “Go to bed now before I decide to teach you a lesson.”

She went up the stairs, her fists clenched into balls at her sides. Time to retreat and plan her next attack. He might be the one holding blackmail over her head, but make no mistake. He was going down.

Chapter Four

The next morning, Jake hesitated at the door of the spare bedroom. After her little striptease and retreat last night, he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods. He had spent hours debating whether or not he should barge into her room and demand she finish what she started. Demand she finish him.

Take what he wanted so he could concentrate on work.

But instead he’d lain in bed until morning came, tossing and turning with nothing but a fucking hard-on and his own hand to keep him company. He guessed he kind of deserved her striptease. He’d been pretty damn arrogant, telling her when he kissed her it would be on his terms. But that’s how he played.

He didn’t lose control, and he didn’t act without thinking.

Ever.

She’d only been giving him back what he’d already given to her. He liked that about her. A lot. Too much. Contrary to what she seemed to think, he didn’t like weak women. He liked women like her—strong, independent, and hot-tempered. Now in bed? That was an entirely different story. In bed, he’d want her to obey him in every way.

It would make the victory even sweeter.

He turned the knob, knowing he should knock but not doing so, and walked into the room. On his second step, he stubbed his toe so hard stars swam in front of his eyes. “Ow! Son of a bitch!”

“You should really watch where you’re going,” Tara said from the bed, amusement in her voice. “Are you okay?”

Hopping on one foot, he glared at the nightstand he’d run into—which had been moved across the room. So had the bed, the big-ass trunk, and the dresser. “What the fuck happened in here last night?”

“Do you like it?” She threw back the covers and stood up. She only wore a tiny pair of pink pajamas that showed off more than it hid. He could see the sweet curve of her ass. His cock immediately sprang to attention. “It wasn’t feng shui the other way.”

He forced his attention back to her face, but his mind was firmly focused on her short shorts. “Feng what?”

Hands on hips, she canted her head. “Feng shui. The chi was off and my chakra was—”

“You know what?” He backed out of the room slowly. All this crazy “feng wui” talk was freaking him out, as was the way she kept trying to take the control away from him. This was his house. Not hers. “Put it back the way it was. Then get dressed and come down so we can get to work. Oh, and don’t get too close to the windows as you fix it. It’ll set the alarm off.”

Her lips twitched as if she held back a smile. “But my chakra—”

He didn’t know what the hell a chakra was, but unless it involved her naked in bed, he didn’t want to know anything else. “Fix. It.”

Closing the door behind him, he went down the hall. She was going to be the death of him. He should call Cooper and tell him he wanted off this case. If she was going to be changing things around and wearing skimpy clothes the whole time she was here, then this was going to be hell. He needed to get her help and then get her out of his house…

And his life, too.

After taking the stairs two at a time, he went into the kitchen and set about brewing some coffee. He was halfway finished with his first mug when she came downstairs. She rounded the corner in a pair of tiny black shorts and a curve-hugging tank top. Her long, tan legs begged to be stroked, and she’d let her hair cascade over her shoulders. He liked the way it looked, tumbling down her bare shoulders.

But she couldn’t go out like that.

She paused in the doorway and studied herself with a frown. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like I peed in your coffee?”

“Half of your outfit is missing.” He gripped his mug tighter. “That’s what’s wrong.”

She stared at him for a second, then came into the kitchen and grabbed a raspberry out of the bowl he’d been eating from. After popping it into her luscious mouth, she chewed slowly, her gaze on him the whole time. When she finished, she sucked on her forefinger seductively and glanced down at her clothes again.

“Shorts and a tank top.” She released her finger with a sucking noise. “Nope. It’s definitely all there.”

He forced his attention off of her mouth. “Huh?”