Mine To Take (Nine Circles) (16 page)

Jesus Christ, he’d thought she was into it. He’d thought she’d wanted it as badly as he did. And yet … she’d come apart in his arms then ran as if the hounds of hell were on her tail.

What the fuck was that all about?

He looked toward the open doorway. Had he fucked up yet again? And if so, how? All he’d done was given her an orgasm, a pretty intense one from the sounds she’d made.

He cursed, pacing over to the fireplace, looking moodily down into the leaping flames. Letting her go was what he should be doing because he never chased a woman who didn’t want to be chased.

But you still haven’t gotten anything about Tremain from her.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He had two choices. Either he went after her to find out what was wrong or he stayed here and gave her some space. Normally, his gut instinct would tell him which choice to make but that gut instinct didn’t seem to be working too well around Honor St. James.

You know what you want to do.

Gabriel let out a breath. Yeah, shit, he knew. He needed to go after her. See what the problem was. Because if he was the cause, he had to fix it. He wanted more information about Tremain and if he started asking questions, there was no way she’d answer them now.

Are you sure it’s only about Tremain?

Yeah, well, of course it was. Everything was about Tremain and the justice he was going to mete out in his mother’s name. Sure, that little seduction scene had been pleasurable and he couldn’t deny he wanted more of that for himself, too. But his focus had to be on his ultimate goal.

Stalking over to the door, he went out and down the hallway to the hotel foyer. Outside it was snowing, the air freezing through his T-shirt but he barely felt it, his boots scuffing through the snow as he walked down to the path to the cottage.

Swiping his card, he pulled open the door, barely pausing to scrape the snow off his boots before striding down the hallway and into the lounge area.

Honor wasn’t there.

Cursing, Gabriel turned and went back into the hall, crossing to the bedroom she was using. The door was closed but not locked so he pulled it open and went in.

Honor was standing by the bed, her suitcase open, throwing clothes into it. Her head jerked up as he came in, her eyes huge and dark in her face. Shock crossed her finely carved features before it vanished, leaving behind an expressionless mask.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

“What does it look like?” she replied calmly. “I’m packing my bag.”

Anger sharpened inside him. “You’re not leaving.”

“The hell I’m not.”

“No, you’re not. It’s late and it’s snowing, and the driving conditions are going to be shitty.”

Honor tossed a silky white blouse into her case. “Are you seriously telling me what to do?”

He folded his arms. “Yes.”

“I see. So are you going to lock me in? Because that’s the only way you’re going to stop me from leaving.”

He didn’t understand why he should be so disappointed by the thought, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it. “You’re not leaving,” he said fiercely. “You’re running away.”

She stilled, holding a skirt in one hand. “I’m
not
running away.”

“I give you an orgasm, then you bolt from the room and start packing? Of course you’re fucking running away.” He held her gaze. “I’d like to know why.”

“That’s none of your business.” She folded the skirt, laying it in her suitcase.

“Bullshit it isn’t. Especially since I was the one giving you the orgasm.”

“Not everything is about you, Mr. Woolf.”

His patience, already at a breaking point, snapped. Shoving himself away from the door, Gabriel stalked into the room. “Oh no, we’re not going to go back to that ‘Mr. Woolf’ shit again.” He strode around the bed to where she stood, her expression set in stone, blue eyes glittering. “You called me by my name, climbed in my lap, let me touch you to orgasm, then you ran away like I’d burned you. I want to know the fuck why.”

She lifted her chin, shoulders squaring. “What does it matter to you? Or is it a case of blue balls and you’re too damn lazy to use your own hand?”

He stared at her, searching her pale face. “Did I hurt you?”

Her jaw tightened. “No.”

“Because I don’t hurt women, Honor. Yeah, I’m a coldhearted bastard but I won’t hurt a woman on purpose or do something she doesn’t want.”

“No, you manipulate them instead.”

“That goes both ways, little girl. You didn’t have to climb into my lap the way you did. No one forced you into it.”

“You forced me to come here with you though.”

“Did I?”

“Of course you did. Your investment offer was based on me giving you a personal tour of the hotel.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“I did if I wanted you to invest in Tremain.”

“That was your choice.”

She turned away, silky black hair falling forward, veiling her expression. “You’re a bastard, Gabriel Woolf. A certified, grade-A bastard.”

Like he didn’t know that already. But this was the first time that hearing it made him feel … shitty. As if her opinion mattered to him. A complication he didn’t need and couldn’t afford. “I never pretended I was anything different,” he said. “You knew what you were getting yourself into when you came into the library. I told you. And yet you still got in my lap.” He took a step toward her. “If you didn’t like the orgasm I gave you, then just say so.”

“Oh, if it’s your prowess you’re worried about then don’t. The orgasm was earth-shaking.” The edge of sarcasm in her voice was cold and sharp.

“I couldn’t give a fuck about my prowess. You’re scared and you won’t tell me why.”

Honor ignored him, reaching for another blouse that was lying on the bed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her gently around to face him. There was anger in her eyes, color on her cheeks. “Let me go.”

“I didn’t pick you for a coward, Honor.”

A fierce blue flame leapt in her eyes. She stepped right up close to him, inches away. “You want to know why I ran? Because the first orgasm I ever had that wasn’t via my vibrator had to come from you.”

His breath caught, a bolt of something hot and intense shooting through him in response. A primitive satisfaction he couldn’t deny.

She saw it, her lip curling. “And naturally enough now you think you’re God.”

“No, I think what fucking poor taste in men you must have had up until now.”

Her gaze flickered. “Let go of me.”

He ignored her. Jesus, he didn’t understand it. She was beautiful, intelligent, articulate. Yet she’d never come with a man before. Why not? Had she only chosen losers in bed or were there other reasons? “Why? Why me?”

Her mouth was a hard line. “I have no idea. It should have been with a man I like and respect, not with … with someone I don’t.”

He studied her, looking into her glittering blue eyes. She was a fighter and she’d been battling him since day one, playing his game like a pro. A strong woman who didn’t take any crap. A woman who liked to be in control. “It’s because I won’t do what you say like a good boy, isn’t it? You’re used to being the one in charge all the time, but you’re not with me. And you like it. It turns you on.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course I don’t like it.”

“I felt you come around my fingers, baby. I heard you sob in my ear. You didn’t just like it, you loved it.”

Her cheeks flushed, her gaze flickering away from his. “Please, I need to go.”

Oh, no, she wasn’t going anywhere. Gabriel tugged on her wrist, pulling her closer. “That scares you, doesn’t it? Not being in control. Not being in charge.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.” He took her other wrist in a gentle grip, then, before she could move, held them both behind her back, forcing her body against his. Her breath hissed in her throat, her blue eyes gone dark. She smelled of flowers, of musk. An arousing, sensual scent that made him ache. “No wonder you’ve never had a decent orgasm. You haven’t met a man strong enough to give you what you want. A chance to let your guard down.”

She didn’t fight him but her body was stiff with tension. “Th-that’s not true.”

“No wonder you prefer your vibrator. You get to control all of the action, how deep, how hard. You never have to give yourself up to anyone. Never have to trust.” It was wrong of him to do this, strip her of her protection. Expose her, make her vulnerable. But he wouldn’t stop. To get the information he wanted, he had to get closer to her. “You like me holding you like this, don’t you?”

“No.” She didn’t struggle, didn’t move. “I hate it.”

“You’re such a liar. You love it because you don’t have any control. Because I’m in charge now, not you.”

She said nothing, turned her head away. The blue silk of her blouse pulled tight across her breasts as she breathed, the warmth of her body seeping through him. Christ, with her resting against him he’d gone from being cold to blazing like a furnace.

“You’re always the one in charge,” he went on softly. “Making the decisions, taking action. You can never let yourself go, not even for an instant. Always cool, always calm. Always strong.”

Her throat moved, her breathing quickening. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, except that I think you don’t want to be. You tell yourself you’re fine with the way things are, but secretly, you want just one moment where you don’t have to be strong. Where you don’t have to be cool or calm. Where you can let go.”

Her lashes lay on her cheeks, like splashes of black ink. She was still but he could feel the tremble in her body. “That’s not true.”

“It is true. You told me your fantasy, remember? You want to feel but it scares the shit out of you. And that’s why you’re leaving.”

She was silent but he could see the pulse at the base of her throat racing. Hear the ragged sounds of her breathing.

This is a mistake. You want this too much. Want her too much.

The warning was inconvenient, so he ignored it. There was nothing wrong with wanting her. It was passing lust, that was all. He was still in control and that’s all that mattered.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I can’t afford to let go. I can’t afford to feel.”

“Why the fuck not?”

Finally she looked up at him, her eyes dark. “Because I want to too badly.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand.”

“It’s a weakness. My father ruined himself chasing a good feeling and from what I’ve seen, Alex is already halfway down that path. Addiction can be hereditary, so what chance have I got? Especially when you make me feel far too good, Gabriel.”

There was a painful honesty in her eyes that he wasn’t expecting, a momentary vulnerability that hurt for some reason. “It’s just sex, Honor. It’s not a drug. One night won’t make any difference. And besides…” He didn’t know how or why, but the truth came out of him before he was even aware of it. “You’re not alone. Sometimes just feeling is what I want, too.”

Her eyes widened, searching his face as if looking for something she’d lost. “You do?”

Fuck, why had he said that? Revealing parts of himself was not in any way part of his plan. Which meant he had to end this conversation before he lost it and gave away anything more.

Gabriel bent his head and covered her mouth with his.

She stiffened for an instant, her arms pulling against his wrists. Then she made a helpless sound in the back of her throat and all her tension melted away, her body going soft against him. Her mouth opened, letting him in, and he tasted heat and the smoky sweetness of the scotch. Christ, she was delicious. She went straight to his head.

He kissed her deeper, exploring her mouth as he gripped her wrists harder, bending her body into a perfect arch against him. Her breasts pressed to his chest, her hips to his, the hard ridge of his cock against the soft warmth between her thighs.

She shuddered, kissing him back, just as hot, just as hungry as he was. The desire that had been simmering inside him ignited into life again, a sharp, intense ache.

He lifted his mouth, looked down into her flushed face, her mouth full and red from his kiss. There was something defiant in her eyes. Something that called to the hunter inside him, that twisted the hunger tighter.

“We made a deal, Honor St. James,” he said roughly. “It’s too late to pull out now. You had a fantasy remember? It’s too cold for the bike, but we can make that fantasy come true right here, right now.”

*   *   *

Honor was so aroused she couldn’t breathe. And it shouldn’t work that way. She shouldn’t be so completely turned on by a man holding her wrists behind her back, the length of his powerful body up against hers.

Not just any man. Gabriel.

Her mouth burned from his kiss. Everywhere burned. Like the mere touch of him scalded her and now she was desperate for relief.

She looked up into his eyes and felt stripped bare. Like he saw everything, knew everything. She didn’t know how he’d managed to guess those things about her, how he knew exactly what scared her, or even why she’d told him about her fears. But no matter how afraid she was, she wanted to believe he was right. That it was only sex. That one night wouldn’t hurt. Because she did want to let go. Wanted, for a moment, not to have to be in control. To not care. To embrace the rush and the sheer intensity of physical pleasure.

But she didn’t know how. The thought of letting go terrified her. Because what if it was good? What if she wanted it again? And again, and again, and again? What if she couldn’t get enough of him? Of this?

Yet that fantasy of him inside her, holding her hands so she couldn’t fight or move thrilled her down to her bones.

She would have no choice but to accept whatever he wanted to give her. No option but to let go.

He shifted his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her, making her want to rock against it, get the friction she craved. “Tell me more of your fantasy. About me fucking you with your hands behind your back.”

She swallowed, afraid to give in. “N-no.”