“Not really, no.”

“I hate it when you’re so damned calm. Do you ever lose control, Emma?” He took a step closer, his temper barely held in check. He wanted to kiss that look right off of her face. Two long years of waiting. She was his, made for him. Belonged to him. He wanted to rake his claws over Patterson’s belly and tear out his guts, watch him die a slow, terrible death.

“Who the hell is Greg Patterson? When did he ask you out and why the hell did you go with him?”

Emma tried to fight down her own anger, knowing she could lose everything if she got into a fight with Jake. He owned her home and everything in it, but she couldn’t let him talk to her the way he was. She tried to be reasonable, but there was a part of her that knew she had deliberately precipitated the crisis, and she couldn’t stop herself from pushing him even more.

“If anyone should be angry here, it should be me. After the way you acted, do you think he’d ask me out again? You made it sound as if we had children together, as if we lived together. He probably thought you caught me stepping out on you.”

“Another date!” He caught her shoulders, his fingers biting into her soft skin, hauling her very close to his large, masculine frame. She could feel the heat from his body enveloping her. “You go out on another date and I’ll break his neck. And just so you have it straight, Emma, we do have children together. You do live with me.”

She scowled at him. “You know very well we’re not like that. And you’re the one who said I needed a man.”

“And just what the hell am I?”

She stared at him, blinking rapidly. “You are not the least bit interested in me.”

“I fucking asked you to marry me,” he pointed out, furious beyond anything he’d ever known. “What the hell more do you want?” He swore aloud, too angry to say another word.

Jake jerked her into his arms, crushing her body right up against his. One hand twisted in her hair, the other held her chin so he could claim her mouth. There was nothing gentle or sweet about his kiss. The touch of his lips sent an electric shock running through her. He bit down on her lower lip just hard enough to cause her to gasp and then he was pure male domination, invading her softness, tasting, punishing.

11

EMMA couldn’t move, didn’t dare to struggle, recognizing in that moment how dangerous Jake really was. His strength was enormous, his hunger stark and raw. Fully aroused, he seemed capable of anything. He growled low in his throat, his kiss deepening until he was almost eating at her mouth in an effort to devour her. He drove her backward until she was against the wall, never lifting his mouth from hers. Emma ran her tongue along the edge of his teeth, feeling a sharpness, tasting his desire as he cupped the back of her head and held her there, his mouth moving over hers, turning her body to liquid fire.

Jake captured both her hands in his and drew them over her head, holding her pinned there, his body rubbing along hers like a cat. Something wild in her responded, her body burning with unnatural heat. He was a primitive male claiming his mate, and her bones melted until she was living, pliant silk, and every nerve ending was alive from their combined fiery heat. She shaped her body to his, pressing close, her mouth moving mindlessly beneath his, tongues twining, stroking, his taste bursting through her like erotic champagne bubbles.

She couldn’t think, could only feel, her body going up in flames, needing his. If he was growling, she was moaning, breathless and hungry and so needy she couldn’t stand the weight of her clothes on her skin.

There was nothing unsure about Jake; he made love the way he did everything—ruthlessly, decisively, in total command. At the same time, he was wild, out of control, sweeping her with him in a storm of intensity. His mouth left hers to travel along her vulnerable throat, deliberately biting, suckling, leaving marks of possession on her soft skin. He grasped the front of her blouse and pulled, ripping the thin material down the front, then dragged her skirt from her as if he found anything keeping her body from his touch and sight offensive to him.

As such, he couldn’t seem to wait long enough to even rid himself of her bra. His mouth tracked burning kisses down to the lacy material covering her breasts. Emma heard the low, raw sound escaping her throat as his mouth closed over her breast, right through the lace, teeth scraping, his tongue hot and wicked, swirling over the hard bud of her nipple. His arms, thick with roped muscles, dragged her closer, his mouth pulling with strong, urgent hunger.

He wasn’t gentle—he was hungry, feasting at her, claiming her, small, feral growls rumbling in his chest and throat. “Mine,” he snarled and drew her into the hot inferno of his mouth. “Mine,” he reiterated, his teeth biting down until she cried out and his tongue immediately laved and soothed.

Her body was a furnace, and she arched against him, trying to get as much of her skin in contact with his as possible. His hands moved over her possessively, stroked along her narrow rib cage and small waist, and bit into the curve of her hip. All the while he tugged and pulled at her nipples, teeth scraping, until the line between pain and pleasure blurred and she was crying with need.

Jake yanked her leg up around his, his hand finding her calf, traveling upward, shaping the perfection of her bone structure, moving along her inner thigh. Emma’s hands tightened around his neck, clinging to him, while the world faded away so that there were only his hands and his mouth and the ravenous hunger raging between them. Arousal sent flames teasing at her thighs until her shaking legs threatened to give out.