Savior (An Impossible Novel) by Julia Sykes Page A

I played football in college.  It made me very competitive.  You should have listened to Sharon; I can be very tenacious when I want to win.  And I don’t intend to lose this game.  Besides, I don’t think you want me to.”  His expression was downright evil.  But it thrilled me far more than it pissed me off.  I had been right: Clayton wasn’t going to let me get away with anything.  The complete loss of control was terrifying in the most delicious way.  The sensation was far headier than what I had felt when I had so easily manipulated Jeff and Sam.
    “So you are fully aware that you’re a bastard, then,” I retorted weakly.
    He tapped my nose again.  “I’m keeping a running tally of those insults, you know.  By all means, please continue with your verbal abuse.”  He cocked his head at me.  “It will be interesting to see whether or not you enjoy the consequences.”
    My pulse quickened and I g asped.  “I thought you said you’d never done anything like this before.”
    He shrugged.  “I told you: I’m a fast learner. And when I find something I want, I go for it.”  The look he shot me was heated and full of wicked promises.  “I want you, Rose.  I’ve never experienced anything like what we have, and I want more of it.”
    What we have?
    Yep, this was definitely about more than just fucking.
    Clayton shook himself slightly and took a deep breath before drawing away from me reluctantly.  I frowned when he turned his back on me.
    “Get dressed for bed,” he ordered.
    “Why the sudden prudishness?”   I taunted.
    He didn’t glance back at me.  “That might not have been a curse word, but I’m adding it to the tally,” he informed me coolly.  “And I’m not going to watch you because I don’t want my balls to ache even more than they do already.”
    You want to tease me?  I thought wickedly.  Two can play at that game, Mr. Big Bad Dom.
    I took my time stripping off my dress and peeling off my underwear.  I decided to leave my strappy high heels on.  Propping myself back on my elbows, I arched my back and spread my legs.
    “Okay, all done.”
    When he turned to face me, Clayton’s mouth dropped open slightly, and I shot him a devilish grin.  Then his teeth snapped together and his jaw clenched.  The glare he fixed on me promised retribution.  “I guess you do like a little pain, seeing as you’re practically begging me to punish you,” he ground out.  “You’re a devious little minx, beautiful.  But that’s something else we can work on.  Tomorrow.”
    Punish.  When I had first met Clayton, I hadn’t been sure if he was capable of such a thing.  My nipples tightened to a painful degree at the prospect.
    “Get dressed.  Now.”  His forbidding glare remained fixed on me as he crossed his arms over his chest.  His stance was imposing, intimidating.  I obeyed with alacrity, retrieving my PJs from under my pillow and pulling them on hastily.  My hands shook slightly from the adrenaline that spiked through me.
    Once I was covered, a pleased, twisted smile replaced his reproving expression.  He applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, pushing me down onto the mattress.  The feeling of being cared for in this way was utterly foreign to me; no one had ever tucked me into bed.  Clayton planted a swift, sweet kiss on my forehead and then drew away from me.  I reached for him quickly, catching his hand in mine.
    “Don’t go,” I said pleadingly.  My desperation to keep him close was overwhelming.  I didn’t want to be alone.  Clayton’s presence provided a far greater release than any alcohol or drugs.
    “I’ve told you, Rose,” he said gently.  “I won’t do that.  Not tonight.”
    I gripped him more tightly.  “I don’t want sex.  Well, I do, but we don’t have to do that.  I just…  Stay with me.  Please.”
    His eyes softened, and he stroked his fingers across my cheek tenderly.  “No w that’s a brand of begging I can’t