donkey kick didn’t save her.
First she felt his fingers inside the back of her slacks’ waistband. The tight pinch across her waist snatched her breath. She tried to evade, slip sideways. He knew her too well. She slapped backward, connecting with his cheekbone.
He shoved her down. Her breathing jerked into overdrive. White stars bloomed across her eyes.
With his hand like a vise between her legs, he pressed his mouth against her ear. She’d expected his growl of victory, but she hadn’t anticipated the shivers it pushed across her skin.
“I win.”
Chapter Eleven
For the second time that morning, Dash listened while Sunny took a shower. Only now he wore a robe tied loosely at his waist and stood outside their en suite bathroom door.
He’d wanted her and he’d forced her again. Holy Christ, it was amazing layered on unbelievable layered on intensely intimate. Fists clenched, he pushed his forehead against the doorjamb, steadying his breathing.
Desire hadn’t been his only motive for dismantling her morning. No, in part it was because he’d spent another knocked-in-the-head, pride-shredding night on the couch. The hours in the desert, the trust they’d shared, the fantasy they’d made real—none of it had mattered. Upon returning home she’d mumbled a good night and shut the bedroom door behind her.
Then she’d been ready to tiptoe off to work, as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t been tossed in the trunk of a car and fucked until she screamed. Dash had never heard her scream like that. Full-on ecstasy. Hell, he’d never gotten close to anything like that himself. Fantasies, yes. But to share it with Sunny? While she enjoyed it as much?
He’d felt used. And that morning, he’d taken the feeling out on her.
To anyone watching, without knowing their agreement in advance, it would’ve looked as if Dash had kidnapped Sunny and raped her in an abandoned desert housing tract. The worst sort of violation. In fact, had the police happened by, he would’ve been hard-pressed to keep from getting arrested. Would Sunny have let him get hauled away? Would she have spoken up? She’d barely been able to meet his eyes when he’d tended her inevitable injuries. Was she ashamed too? He sure as shit had been, there in the aftermath, when they couldn’t even talk to each other.
Maybe her shame would’ve kept her silent.
Great. He was playing rape games with his wife, when he couldn’t trust that she’d keep him safe. He sure as hell tried to keep her safe. In the meantime, he was getting her off hardcore, with an intensity neither of them had ever shared…but he slept on the couch. He stood there like a fumbling jackass, wondering whether he should knock on the bathroom door before entering.
He believed Sunny wanted to leave him. Sex now was, what, some last fling? A little rough-and-tumble before they signed off?
Yup. He felt used.
He would’ve laughed at the heaps of irony if the whole situation hadn’t left him so heartsick.
The water shut off. Dash inhaled, then knocked softly.
Being angry hadn’t worked.
“Sunny? Can I come in?”
For an agonizing heartbeat, he didn’t think she’d do it. Stillness and indecision waited between them as opaque as the gleaming pine door. Then, the doorknob turned. Steamy air scented with jasmine, her favorite, wafted out on a humid cloud. She’d wrapped her hair in a towel, and another hugged her body. The white terrycloth made for a bright, eye-catching contrast to her golden skin.
She was so beautiful.
He should say that to her. He didn’t know how anymore, and worse, he didn’t think she’d believe him.
“Surprised you asked permission,” she said, chin tilted. “Hasn’t been your style lately.”
Dark, dark eyes studied him. God, he hoped she was as confused about all this as he was. His only clue was how she touched her right collarbone. Once. Then hands at her side. Followed by another touch, like the flutter of a butterfly. A
First she felt his fingers inside the back of her slacks’ waistband. The tight pinch across her waist snatched her breath. She tried to evade, slip sideways. He knew her too well. She slapped backward, connecting with his cheekbone.
He shoved her down. Her breathing jerked into overdrive. White stars bloomed across her eyes.
With his hand like a vise between her legs, he pressed his mouth against her ear. She’d expected his growl of victory, but she hadn’t anticipated the shivers it pushed across her skin.
“I win.”
Chapter Eleven
For the second time that morning, Dash listened while Sunny took a shower. Only now he wore a robe tied loosely at his waist and stood outside their en suite bathroom door.
He’d wanted her and he’d forced her again. Holy Christ, it was amazing layered on unbelievable layered on intensely intimate. Fists clenched, he pushed his forehead against the doorjamb, steadying his breathing.
Desire hadn’t been his only motive for dismantling her morning. No, in part it was because he’d spent another knocked-in-the-head, pride-shredding night on the couch. The hours in the desert, the trust they’d shared, the fantasy they’d made real—none of it had mattered. Upon returning home she’d mumbled a good night and shut the bedroom door behind her.
Then she’d been ready to tiptoe off to work, as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t been tossed in the trunk of a car and fucked until she screamed. Dash had never heard her scream like that. Full-on ecstasy. Hell, he’d never gotten close to anything like that himself. Fantasies, yes. But to share it with Sunny? While she enjoyed it as much?
He’d felt used. And that morning, he’d taken the feeling out on her.
To anyone watching, without knowing their agreement in advance, it would’ve looked as if Dash had kidnapped Sunny and raped her in an abandoned desert housing tract. The worst sort of violation. In fact, had the police happened by, he would’ve been hard-pressed to keep from getting arrested. Would Sunny have let him get hauled away? Would she have spoken up? She’d barely been able to meet his eyes when he’d tended her inevitable injuries. Was she ashamed too? He sure as shit had been, there in the aftermath, when they couldn’t even talk to each other.
Maybe her shame would’ve kept her silent.
Great. He was playing rape games with his wife, when he couldn’t trust that she’d keep him safe. He sure as hell tried to keep her safe. In the meantime, he was getting her off hardcore, with an intensity neither of them had ever shared…but he slept on the couch. He stood there like a fumbling jackass, wondering whether he should knock on the bathroom door before entering.
He believed Sunny wanted to leave him. Sex now was, what, some last fling? A little rough-and-tumble before they signed off?
Yup. He felt used.
He would’ve laughed at the heaps of irony if the whole situation hadn’t left him so heartsick.
The water shut off. Dash inhaled, then knocked softly.
Being angry hadn’t worked.
“Sunny? Can I come in?”
For an agonizing heartbeat, he didn’t think she’d do it. Stillness and indecision waited between them as opaque as the gleaming pine door. Then, the doorknob turned. Steamy air scented with jasmine, her favorite, wafted out on a humid cloud. She’d wrapped her hair in a towel, and another hugged her body. The white terrycloth made for a bright, eye-catching contrast to her golden skin.
She was so beautiful.
He should say that to her. He didn’t know how anymore, and worse, he didn’t think she’d believe him.
“Surprised you asked permission,” she said, chin tilted. “Hasn’t been your style lately.”
Dark, dark eyes studied him. God, he hoped she was as confused about all this as he was. His only clue was how she touched her right collarbone. Once. Then hands at her side. Followed by another touch, like the flutter of a butterfly. A
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