Shit!

Okay.

Concentrate.

The Talk with Mace…

It came to me.

“You’re screwing with my head,” I informed him and there was no doubt about it and I had the last five minutes as evidence. He was definitely screwing with my head.

His reply was instantaneous. “Yeah. And?” I blinked with surprise at his ready answer.

Then I stared.

He didn’t even try to deny it.

Al fogginess left me and my mind became clear. I did an ab curl to sitting position, dislodging his body and twisted to face him.

“Wel , stop doing it!” I demanded.

He did an ab curl too, his hands came to my waist and he lifted me over his body. Then he yanked my knees to bent so I was straddling him and his knees came up, caging me in as his arms wrapped around me.

I pushed against his bare chest and pressed into the bed with my knees.

This didn’t work.

“Mace, let me up.”

He didn’t let me up.

“Stel a, I got about ten minutes then I gotta get going. You got more you want to say?”

I quit trying to get away, stunned at his arrogance and annoyed that he was ignoring my wishes (yet again) and snapped, “Hel yes!”

“Then say it.”

“Al right. I’l say it. Or, I should say, I’l repeat it. I want you to move out. I want this to be over, whatever this is, right effing now. I want you to quit screwing with my head. And I want you to stop interfering with my band.”

“No.”

I waited for him to say more but apparently that was it.

“No?” I asked.

“No,” he repeated, like that was that then he went on.

“That al you got?”

I was back to my stunned, annoyed staring.

I just could not believe him.

He waited then leaned up to touch his mouth to mine and made a move to shift me off his body as if our talk was over, al was hunky dory, he was going to exit the bed and get on with the rest of his day.

Erm… no.

We were not done.

I put my hands to his shoulders and pressed down, locking my thighs at his hips.

“Hang on a second,” I said.

Mace stil ed and started to look impatient.

Amused, but impatient.

“Stel a, in case you forgot, I got a bad guy to catch.”

“I know that but we aren’t done talking.”

“If that’s what you want to talk about then we are.”

“We aren’t!”

“We are.”

“Damn it, Mace!”

His hands on my waist got tighter and his face came closer and that face had lost its amusement and was now very serious.

“This is how it’s gonna go down,” Mace stated, his voice firm.

Effing hel .

I don’t think I want to know how it’s gonna go down, my brain sounded kind of scared.

I don’t either, I told my brain.

“You’re obviously gonna fight it and that’s fine, I already told you I’m happy to take you on. We both know where we stand with this; we’re goin’ over old ground. You gotta know, though, that this kind of fight, there aren’t any rules. If it means I gotta f**k with your head then I’m gonna f**k with your head. You don’t like it, tough.”

Did I say he was unbelievable?

In case I didn’t, he was just unbelievable!

“I don’t like it,” I returned. “As I already told you, I’m not going there again. Not with you.”

“You’re already there,” he informed me.

“I am not!” I snapped back.

The amusement returned. “Babe, you’re sitting na**d in my lap on the morning after a night where you begged to suck my –”

I put a hand over his mouth to stop his words and drowned out the muffled noise with a sharp, angry scream that came from the back of my throat.

I thought back and I had begged and then he’d let me and it was nice, for both of us.

Shit, I was so weak!

I took my hand from his mouth, shut my eyes tight, lifted my arms and grabbed my hair in both of my fists.

This, I decided, was not going my way.

At al .

And it was al my fault.

Then it hit me, something else we had to talk about.

I dropped my arms, opened my eyes and looked right into his.

He was ful on amused now.

I ignored his amusement.

“Tel me about yesterday morning in the kitchen,” I said quietly.

The amusement disappeared instantly.

Oh dear.

“What about it?” he asked, his voice was guarded.

“You know,” I answered, my voice stil soft.

His hands stil at my waist, he made to move again but I did the hands-pressing-on-shoulders, thighs-locking-on-hips move again and he stil ed.

His eyes came back to mine and now t h e y were guarded. No warm amusement, no determination, no impatience, nothing.

Blank.

Hidden.

He didn’t say a word.

And that’s when I knew.

Mace was going to do whatever he had to do to win me.

Except what would actual y work.

“I get it,” I whispered.

I watched his eyes flash with anger. “I don’t think you do,” he replied.

“No, you’re right. I don’t. And you aren’t gonna give it to me,” I retorted, knowing he wasn’t going to share, knowing he was wil ing to take but he wasn’t wil ing to give. This hurt, it shouldn’t hurt, I didn’t want it to hurt but it was a kick to the gut al the same.

Then I said softly, “Same shit, Mace, just a year later.” It was my turn to try to get away but he twisted and we ended with me on my back, he was on top of me and we were face-to-face.

“You think you got it figured out, Kitten, but you don’t.

Bottom line, you aren’t ready for it,” he told me.

I probably wasn’t ready for it, if the look in his eyes yesterday morning was anything to go by.

But I had to know. I knew I shouldn’t want to, shouldn’t need to, but I had to.

“And you get to decide when I’m ready?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“And when’s that gonna be?”

“I’l tel you when it’s not gonna be, it’s not gonna be when you’re trying to push me away because you stil don’t trust me,” he returned.