She thought quickly. Maybe if she excused herself she could hide away in the bathroom for a while. But she never got farther than that. The air stirred behind her, just a small change that fluttered over the bare back of her dress.

“You can’t run from me.”

She shivered; goosebumps formed down her arms. “I wasn’t running.” Be brave, she told herself, and turned around to look at him. She even managed a tumultuous smile and was damn proud of herself for being able to pull it off.

He gave a brief shake of his head. “Yes you were. Tell me why.”

Her smile fell. “I can’t.” How could she talk about feelings when she’d had a hard enough time just saying that no one had ever looked at her like that before...like he cared, like she mattered to him.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. You’re stronger than that. One of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that came. “Seriously, now that’s just a straight lie, Brayden.” His arms came around her waist, slowly pulling her into him. She dug her feet in, leaned away to fight it. She didn’t want to be close to him right now, didn’t want him to break down her walls. But her resistance was futile, no match for his strength and she relented until their chests pressed deeply against one another. He touched her hair, threading his fingers through it from scalp to ends. A breathy sigh escaped her. A shudder racked down her spine.

“I don’t lie. Now tell me, Vanessa.”

Her hands flattened over his hard chest, fingers digging in to the solid muscle. “Why?”

His hands paused on her back with her hair still threaded between his fingers. Then his voice came close to her ear, a husky whisper. “Because, it matters to me.”

Oh, she thought breathlessly. Just, oh. It mattered. To him. The temperature in the room surely just skyrocketed, or else why was she suddenly too warm? “I felt like an ass for saying what I did outside.” His hand continued to stroke her hair, the other arm stayed wrapped around her waist arching her into him. The touch made her shoulders slacken, her entire body relax.

“Why?”

She shook her head once. “Oh, come on, don’t make me say it,” she said into his shirt. She kept face as buried in there as she could. Not that it wasn’t nice. He smelled really good.

He sighed and her mouth twitched at the exasperated sound. “Really, Vanessa, I won’t understand how you feel unless you tell me explicitly. I’m not...accustomed to this.”

Neither am I, she wanted to say. “Okay, fine.” She sucked in a deep breath then let it all out. “I confessed something...about how I feel with you and I was afraid you’d shoot me down.” The words were out; no going back now. Still, had she even made any sense? Would he get what she was trying to say? God, she hoped so.

She waited what felt like forever before he replied. And when he did, her heart thumped. “I feel the same.”

“Huh?” She jerked her head up so she could see his eyes.

“It’s true,” he said watching her. “No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, either. As if I’m someone important—to them.”

“Really?” God, was that her tiny voice asking that?

His eyes darkened with something hot, raw, and completely sexual. Her core pulsed, nipples tingled. “I’m telling you now. Nothing could make me let that go. I’d fight for you tooth and nail to keep you, and I plan to.”

Now it was her turn to ask. “Why?”

His hand fell to her waist, curling into to her hips and then he was lifting her, pulling her up. Her arms naturally went around his neck to hang on as she balanced on her toes.

“Because, you’re mine now. I think you were mine the minute you got into my car.”

Then his lips crossed hers and her body melted. That one kiss changed everything. Her lips tingled where they touched. His tongue dipped in and she opened to give him access. Her hands sifted through the soft hair at his head, tugged until he kissed her harder, pressed deeper. He licked inside her mouth and she tasted his, flicking her tongue across the hard points of his fangs and moaning when his body tightened beneath her.

“Taking you now,” he said against her lips. And then he easily lifted the bottom of her dress up, gripped her buttocks and hauled her up into his arms. Her legs went around his waist; her head turned to the side trying to reach all of him. He walked them across the room. She didn’t care where he took her. To the chaise lounge, to the wall, to the floor—it didn’t matter, so long as he took her and made her feel the way only he could.

He lowered her to the bed and she sighed in protest as her mouth lefts his. She fell against the soft cushion, but her body arched up to his, needing him to come back down on her. His eyes leveled on hers, glittering with need. Then he stood back and pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of hard muscles packed and ribbed at his stomach, the tan to his skin, the line of hair down his stomach, made her legs scissor together trying to get some relief. He watched her. She felt like a piece of meat under a predator’s eyes—like she was about to get eaten.

Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes from memorizing every inch of him. When they’d made love on the couch, she hadn’t gotten to feel their naked chests pressed together, hadn’t gotten to see all the muscles she’d felt with her hands. Now she did and her mouth watered.

“Take off your dress.” It was an order given softly, but no less commanding.

Breath hitching in her throat, she grabbed the dress at her thighs and started pulling, her hips lifting and arching as she worked the material up. His eyes flared, his chest expanding hard as he watched her. He liked it and hell if she didn’t like that he did. So she exaggerated the movements, slowed them down. The dress fluttered up around her stomach and she arched her back as she bared her naked breasts. The soft material helped to tease her hard nipples even more, making her sigh as the material passed over them.

He wet his bottom lip but kept watching her as he unbuckled his belt and started on his pants. Finally, she lifted the dress overhead and tossed it aside, completely bare save her small plain panties.

“Beautiful,” he said, eye roaming over her.

She felt beautiful. He could make her feel like that. Like all other women couldn’t compare when he looked at her like that. Finally, he unzipped his pants, toed off his shoes, then slid his pants and black socks off in a smooth move. When he stood tall again, she gasped. She wished she hadn’t, that she could control her purely feminine response, but damn if she could. She’d never seen a man like that. A man with legs wired hard with ropes of muscles, with slender hips and wide shoulders.

She tried not to look, she really did, but her eyes fell to the hard shaft thrusting out from his hips. A flood of moisture spilled between her legs and she squirmed in need, needing him, inside her.

Ah, but it was okay, because he came onto the bed, snagged his fingers around her little panties, then tugged them down and off. No slow moving motions for him. His hands said determination. His fingers slid around her ankles then his hands traveled up her legs. Goosebumps broke out all across her body and somehow made her nipples even harder. Everything ached. Nipples, sex, deep inside her. Even her skin seemed to crave him. Only after he slid his hand over her, did the ache ease. His hands stopped past her knees and then his beautiful eyes met hers. They were pure heat and promise. Then he jerked her legs open, pushing her knees back until she was spread open and bare before him.

Her hands flew down to cover herself as a furious blush burned her face.

“No.” He grabbed her hands, then set them over her breasts. He watched her much smaller hands settle over her breasts, then nodded as if it pleased him. “Keep them there.” His voice had turned huskier, growling.