No Rules(37)

Or maybe he’d do it for her.

She raised an eyebrow, obviously imagining his all-over tan. “Oh.” It was barely a breath, but clearly an approving one.

Damn. He stood close enough that he could see her pulse thrum in the veins of her neck. Fast, but not from fear—that much was evident in her eyes. And it didn’t fit at all with the timid personality he’d thought he’d had pegged for Jess Maulier.

She was afraid of the unknown, obsessively so. She lived a life of patterns and routines, while preparing for eventualities she hoped would never happen. An unexpected change in plans. Travel. Any event that hadn’t been thoroughly vetted by her therapist. All the things he’d put her through since he’d whisked her out of Wally’s house in the middle of the night, past a dead body, and into what had to be her worst nightmare.

She’d been furious with him and more than a little frightened. The motorcycle and black leather had only exacerbated that, and he’d decided that was a good thing, forcing him to keep his distance from the last woman in the world he should want to cozy up to.

Wally’s daughter was sweet and pretty. And as much as he tried to ignore it, she was hot. It was a combination that worked its way under his skin and started an itch he badly wanted to scratch. And shouldn’t. Not with the girl Wally had sacrificed so much for in order to shield her from the dangers of his life. The same dangers Tyler Donovan lived with every day.

They had a problem. Being attracted to her had been unexpected, although when she’d hated and feared him, they’d been fine. But she’d softened since learning about her father’s other life. He’d softened, too, in order to coax Wally’s narrative from her memory. They’d become friendly. She’d started to trust him. It had seemed like a good thing. Who knew something more had smoldered beneath that proper surface?

He watched as she pulled that lower lip between her teeth again and considered him, causing the front of his jeans to develop a definite bulge. Holy shit, the good girl had a thing for bad boys.

He had to do something about it. There were two ways he could go.

One, he could ignore it and hope it went away, or hope that she lacked the boldness to follow up on her budding interest. But if he’d learned one thing about Jess, it was that she was determined when it came to getting what she wanted, whether it meant faking a broken ankle—a claim he hadn’t forgotten even if he hadn’t mentioned it—or requiring him to use bodily force to remove her from her father’s house. Even then she hadn’t quit fighting him. It had taken a dead body to convince her to leave Nipagonee Rapids, and he didn’t have a spare one to throw into this argument.

Which left option two—cooperate. More fun for him, and more chance of success. He could come on so strong that Jess and her innocent little crush would run screaming in terror from real male sexual aggression. He imagined the type of man she dated had soft, manicured hands and polite manners, the kind of man who asked permission before kissing her good night. A dull, safe man who could never threaten her security.

Donovan wasn’t dull, and he certainly wasn’t safe. And he intended to threaten every idea of security she’d ever had.

Without giving her time to lick that luscious, full lip again, he grabbed her upper arms and backed her into the dresser, pinning her against the wood between two brass drawer pulls. She gasped and stared, openmouthed. But she didn’t struggle. Not yet.

“Danger can be exciting. Maybe what you need is a little danger in your life, Jess.” He leaned into her, his chest pressing against her breasts as he lowered his head to her neck. Soft, fragrant skin brushed his nose as he nuzzled below her ear. Deliberately, he licked her.

He felt her shiver and heard the soft intake of breath, but she didn’t say a word. Speechless with fear, no doubt. He closed his eyes and inhaled her delicate scent, getting into his predatory role. He’d never forced himself on a woman, but scaring Jess away was for her own good, and he wouldn’t pretend he didn’t enjoy the closeness while it lasted.

Working his way up to her cheek, he nibbled at the corner of her mouth. Tasting, teasing. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, little puffs of air that tickled the hair above his ear. He nipped at her lower lip. A tiny whimper escaped her throat, a helpless sound, like a kitten. He pressed his pelvis against her, his erection impossible to miss as he ground into her, assuring himself it was okay to enjoy it since he was doing it for a good reason. She blinked her large, brown eyes at him, transfixed. The poor thing was probably in shock.

That might be enough. But he needed to be sure she was good and scared, enough to leave him alone for the duration of their mission. He tried not to think about how much he didn’t want to stop, but knew this would be his only chance to experience the fantasy that had been playing in his head since he first saw Jess stride purposefully down the gangway at the Traverse City airport. Molding himself to that lithe body and kissing her breathless was a dream come true.