Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline) by Sparrow Beckett Page B

her. She imagined him doing what he’d said—untying her and telling her to dress. Then she’d walk out of the room and out to her car.
    When she’d seen the pieces of the torn-up car, she’d had a momentary pang of regret that he’d gone so far and done so much damage for nothing. What if, between that and her screwing up the script at the dealership, he didn’t want her anymore? She couldn’t think of a more humiliating scenario than creeping out of the house, trembling with need. Having to stop on the side of the road to masturbate would be mortifying.
    Everything in her brain shut down except whatever valve controlled her tears. Those wouldn’t stop.
    “Oh, hey. Shhh.”
    She could feel him tugging at the ropes, untying her. It was true. He was going to leave her like this.
    “Shh, Addison. It’s done now.”
    The ropes fell away, his quiet voice repeating comforting things, but nothing he said could soothe her.
    The bed dipped behind her, and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping his body around hers like a cocoon. “It’s okay, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”
    Although the heat from his body felt good, his clean, masculine scent made her arousal worse, reminding her of what she desperately needed but couldn’t have.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, rolling over to look at him. “I didn’t know you’d wreck your car looking for it.”
    He wiped her tears away with his fingers, but there were too many, had been too many, and his hand just ended up smearing them around.
    “I’m not angry, baby.” He chuckled. “You tricked me, but it was all in good fun. You had no way of knowing how far I’d go to avoid losing, especially since winning would have landed you in my bed.”
    She frowned up at him. “But I ended up here anyway.”
    “Yes, well, I don’t always use my powers for good.” He pressed his lips to her forehead for a long moment, and the affection and the safety of his strong arms made most of her horrible thoughts melt away. It did nothing to calm the burn in her body.
    “So you’re not going to throw me out?”
Thank the lord.
    “Do you honestly think that’s why I lured you down here? To get you to tell me where you hid the tracking device?” He gathered her closer and pressed his erection against her hip. “I’ve been wanting to get you into my bed since I let you out of it the last time.”
    What? But he’d barely known her then!
    “Bullshit,” she replied, wriggling against his cock. Him and his pants were keeping her from what she needed. “I’m sure you have a huge lineup of girls waiting for your attention.”
    “So? I’m a little obsessed with you right now, if you hadn’t noticed.”
    Obsessed? With her? She felt a blush heat her face and neck. Maybe he was lying, but she’d pay him to keep it up.
    “You’re not too shabby, yourself.”
    They shared a long silent moment. Up close, the blue of his eyes was eerily bright. His gaze was kind, but a slow burn simmered not far below the surface. How many guys—even dominant ones—would lay with her and pet her before seeing to their own needs? It was how things were supposed to be, but in the heat of the moment it was hard for anyone to be that selfless.
    She nuzzled into his chest, kissing him there. Her desire took the kiss from sweet to sexual in about ten seconds flat.
    The feel of his warm skin under her lips and the clean taste of him on her tongue stoked the fire in her belly. She explored the beautiful muscles of his chest, loving that he didn’t shave off his polite amount of golden chest hair, then moved down to his belly, to the waistband of his pants. When she hesitated at his button, he nodded permission. As he helped her slide the pants downward, his erection sprang free, narrowly missing smacking her face.
    A big hand slid into her hair, gripping it close to the scalp and holding her away from his cock until she could barely flick the tip of it with her tongue. She fought his grip, her whole world