Pierce spoke like he wanted to have a serious conversation…but his stare caressed her nipples, still tight and tingling from his attention. His penis began rising again.
An answering desire stirred between her legs.
She ignored it, plucking up her shorts and slapping them over her breasts. “No, we don’t.”
If she stayed, she feared they wouldn’t spend much time talking.
“Since you were a virgin, even if you’d rather not admit that, I’m assuming you’re not on birth control.”
She froze. She’d had no reason to be on birth control. And he hadn’t used a condom.
Brea’s mouth fell open on a silent gasp. She staggered back. How had she been so careless?
Pierce’s grip was the only thing that kept her from falling. “That’s what I thought. Where are you in your cycle?”
She couldn’t think beyond her dismay. “Pierce, please… I have to go.”
“Not until we figure out how likely you are to get pregnant.” His grip tightened. “Refusing to talk won’t solve anything.”
You have a habit of burying your head in the sand. That won’t always work… Cutter’s warning drifted through her head. He was right, but she wasn’t ready to face the stark reality of her choice and its potentially monumental consequences.
“Please stop talking. And let go.” She yanked her arm from his grip.
He released her so abruptly she stumbled back—only to get another eyeful of him in his head-to-toe naked glory.
Heat flared through her.
Brea had never imagined being blasphemous enough to think that God had a sadistic streak. But why else would He make the only man she’d ever found irresistible be the one her friends, family, and community would never approve of?
Biting her lip to hold in a cry, she turned away and dashed down the stairs.
Pierce followed, his heavy footfalls sounding determined not to let her get far. “You didn’t ask, but I’m clean. I’ve never had sex with anyone else without a condom.”
Of course she hadn’t thought he’d been pure, but when she imagined him being as intimate with another woman as he’d been with her, jealousy twisted a knife in Brea’s chest. Her stomach turned in a sick grind. Her eyes stung again.
She had to get out of here.
Brea dashed down the stairs and darted to the kitchen, plucking up her bra and shirt as she crossed the room to her purse. Pierce was right behind her, his breath hot on the back of her neck.
“Stop running, damn it, and talk to me. We’ll work through it.”
She whirled on him, the tears she’d been trying to hold back spilling like hot acid down her burning cheeks. “I’ve given you everything I offered you in exchange for Cutter’s life. Now we’re even. I need to go.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re kidding yourself if you think the only reason you let me take you to bed was to save your boyfriend’s life. I made no secret of the fact I wanted you. But you fucking wanted me, too. Woman up and own it.”
He was right, just like she knew she should be honest with him about her relationship with Cutter. But when he looked at her, Brea felt more exposed than she had when he’d stripped her naked and penetrated her.
“There’s nothing left to talk about.”
“Bullshit. You’re afraid. I get it. But this fucking wedge of distance you’re driving between us right now isn’t helping.” He stalked toward her.
Brea juggled her clothes and her purse in her hands, backing up for every step he prowled closer. “Stop.”
“Not when you’re upset.” He wrenched the items from her grasp and tossed everything on the kitchen table. Then he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the sofa, plopping down on the nearest cushion. He settled her over his lap, facing him so she straddled his hips. His big hands swept up her back, urging her head onto his shoulder. “Talk or cry or whatever you need. I’m here.”
The sincerity in his voice told Brea he really would be there for her…but he was too close for her to breathe, much less rub two thoughts together. A terrible awareness consumed her—of his big arms around her, his warm breath in her ear, his hard, naked chest flattening her sensitive nipples, and his heart chugging in time with hers.
As if he felt their connection, too, his penis hardened even more, surging between them, nudging where her ache swirled and thickened.
“Pierce…” Brea meant to pull away.
Instead, she found herself writhing against him.
“I’m trying to be a good guy, pretty girl, but if you keep that up, I’m going to fuck you again,” he groaned. “In thirty seconds—or less.”
Fresh need tightened between her legs. Brea’s head told her that would be terrible. But her body loved the notion, heating and softening all at once, arching to get even closer.
Pierce cursed, then lifted her breasts in his massive palms and sucked one nipple into his mouth. She gasped…and her protest faded into a wail of pleasure.