All or Nothing at All
Page 73

“Well, goody for you. Maybe you’re more careful than I am.”
“Have you changed your name legally yet?”
She glowered. She was excited Becca would have the family name, but it terrified her. How many times had she lost herself in the pursuit of Tristan Pierce? Having his name was a hollow victory without his heart. She tried not to squirm under his relentless gaze. “I’m waiting for Becca’s new birth certificate. It should come in the mail in a few more weeks.”
“And yours?”
“I haven’t had the time to go to the town office yet. It’s a lot of paperwork, and I’ve been busy.”
He propped his elbows on the counter and regarded her. “Hmm.” Slowly his finger tapped against the edge of the glass. The air lit with electricity, and she struggled for breath. He was so damn virile. From those lean muscles and tapered fingers to those carved lips, the man oozed sex appeal.
She snapped her mind into battle mode. “What does that noise mean?” she challenged. “You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you’ve been busy. But I also believe you don’t want to change your name. I think you’re pretending we have a convenient arrangement and refuse to admit this will be a real marriage.”
“It’s not a real marriage! You made me do this.”
He lifted a brow. A flush hit her cheeks. Deep inside, she’d dreamed of marrying him her entire life. Of being his wife. Unfortunately, she’d gotten her wish in the completely wrong way. She’d tried to protect herself by keeping her distance, but nothing seemed to work.
Maybe it was time to change her plan.
Maybe it was time to go after what they’d both wanted.
“I think we tried it your way for a while and now we’re going to try it mine.”
His soft tone caused goose bumps to shiver along her skin. Her heart began pounding so loud, she knew he heard it. “What do you mean?”
A smile touched his lips. “I think you know.”
She got up from her seat. Poised for flight, she trembled, staring at him in half unease, half fascination. He seemed completely calm and in control of the whole situation. The air hung heavy with sexual tension. She regarded him with heavy-lidded eyes, knowing this was a turning point for both of them. Tristan intended to get her into his bed.
And she intended to be there.
But it couldn’t be on his terms.
She tilted her head, as if considering his words. She was not going to just meekly acquiesce to his primeval threats. The thrill of the game sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. “Maybe I do know.” She tossed him a challenging smile. “But I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight. Better to tell you that right now before things go any further.”
He placed his glass down on the table. Slowly rose from the chair and stretched with an animallike grace. “Maybe it’s best if I lay out the actual plan of the evening.” He shrugged off his jacket and hung it neatly on the back of the chair. “First, I’m going to remove all of your clothes. I’m going to lay you out on the bed and spend endless hours tasting you. Touching you. Biting you. Licking you.” He unclipped his cuff links and laid them on the counter. “When you’ve come at least twice, I’m going to fuck you. First hard and fast. Then real slow. Until you weep and scream my name over and over.” He rolled his cuffs up his forearms. “Then I’m going to do it all over again until you remember to wear your ring every damn day.”
Her mouth was as dry as a barren desert. His dirty words caused a tsunami of sensation curling in her belly, fogging her mind with a gripping need that blasted away her defenses. Dear God, he was good. Already she craved to give in and to hell with a chase.
She fought to rally. Took a step back, her hands in front of her. “No. I mean it, Tristan. Stay away from me or you’ll regret it.”
“Too late. You’re my wife and it’s about time I claimed you as such. In my bed.”
She gulped for air. Whiskey-colored eyes narrowed in on her. He loosened his tie, unknotted it, and slid it off his neck. The red ribbon dropped to the floor in sheer seductive glory. Her thighs squeezed, and her panties dampened. Holy shit. She was soaking wet, and he’d only taken off his jacket and damn tie.
She glanced to the staircase, counting the number of steps necessary to get her to safety. If she moved fast, she’d be able to lock herself in the bedroom. That would show him. She prepared for flight, only to be distracted when he began unbuttoning that snowy-white shirt, unveiling a line of hard muscles and intriguing hair that traveled down his chest, over eight-pack abs, and disappeared under his slacks.
His lips twitched at her hungry stare. “You want this just as bad as I do.”
His arrogance took her breath away. She gathered her temper and flung it at him like a witch casting a spell. “I’m sure you’ll tell yourself that to justify forcing me.”
His laugh made her curl her hands into fists. “Oh, baby, this won’t have anything to do with force. In fact, I won’t be satisfied until you beg me.” He unbuckled his belt, slid it from the loops, and dropped it. The metal hit the wood floor, causing her to jump. “Do you remember how well you used to beg, Sydney?”
She raised her chin. Her nipples were tight and achy, pressing against the thin material of her shirt in a demand to be freed. Her core heated and softened, ready for him. “Maybe this time you’ll be the one to beg,” she threw out. “’Cause I’m done.”
“You’ve been driving me crazy for way too long.” He drew the tab on the zipper down slow. The hiss hit the air like bacon sizzling in a pan. “It’s time I take what belongs to me and teach you a valuable lesson.”
She seethed with frustration and arousal. “I’m not your possession.”
His eyes flared with a hungry, raw lust that kept her chained in place. He stalked her like a predator, and she moaned low in her throat. “Yes, you are,” he declared. “You’re my wife. You’re mine, whether you like it or not. The moment you said those vows, I owned that sweet body, and it’s time I show you who the real boss is around here.”
Did he really think she’d surrender that easily? She’d make him work for it. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
The dare hung in the air between them. His pants drifted over his hips and hit the floor. His erection strained against his briefs, and her mouth watered at the gorgeousness of his body, the hard strength standing before her. Toasty-golden skin covered with dark hair and bulging biceps and muscled thighs braced apart. He was David incarnate: proud and strong and graceful, and she’d never wanted him more in her entire life. And they were still in the kitchen? Why hadn’t she moved yet?