Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(3)
He stopped and turned to her. Nothing but shadows here, and the trees would soak up sound. If she made any.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, smiling. “Lost in thought.”
She stopped and looked at him. “I said I’m cold.”
God, she looked so f*cking tasty in the faint light. So vulnerable. His heart was thudding hard. He could feel it in his chest, his throat.
He took a step toward her. “Well, shit, honey, I can take care of that. Warm you right up.”
She flinched and shook her head. “What? No. I just want my sweatshirt.”
“Sure, we’ll spread it out right here on the grass. It’ll be fine.”
He tossed the sweatshirt on the ground next to her. He was going to follow her down when she knelt to retrieve it, but she didn’t. She just stood there, looking at him. Well, that was all right. Lot of ways to skin a cat.
“Come on, now,” he said, moving closer to her. “I’ll make you feel good. You’ll see.”
She stepped back. “Look,” she said, with a little quaver. “I just want to go home. Okay?”
God, he liked the fear in her voice. Loved it.
“I told you I’d get you home, didn’t I? You doubting me now?”
“What? No. I just—”
“Don’t you give me a hard time. I was nice to you tonight. Bought you all those drinks, didn’t I?”
“Yes, it was nice of you, but—”
“Then don’t you think you should be nice back?”
“That’s not the point. I mean, it’s just, I don’t want—”
He stepped in suddenly and seized her by the shoulders. He squeezed hard, letting her feel how strong he was, how in control. How much damage he could do if she gave him a reason.
“Stop,” he said, giving her a single brisk shake. “Just stop now. Stop your talking and listen to me.”
He could feel the tension in her body. The growing panic. Fuck, he was so hard.
“I’ve been nice to you,” he said, keeping his grip tight. “All night. And all I want is for you to be nice back now. Are you telling me you won’t? Is that it?”
“Come on, stop,” she said, her voice high now, like a child’s. “You’re hurting me. Stop.”
It was such a turn-on, the way she was talking. He relaxed his grip and eased the backpack off her shoulder, letting it drop to the ground. It was heavier than he’d expected. Must have had some weights inside, something like that.
He caressed her neck for a moment, then let his hands drift to her elbows, his thumbs brushing the edges of her breasts along the way. He squeezed her arms to her sides and brought her closer. “Come on now. Just a kiss. Is that so much to ask, after I’ve been so nice to you?”
“Don’t,” she said, again in that high voice. “I don’t want this.”
“Like hell you don’t,” he said, and it was so perfect, the way she was afraid, the way she was resisting him, it was everything he always loved, everything he’d hoped it would be, and he was going to do her now, right here in the park, on the cool grass, make her take everything he had to give her, and she’d never tell anyone and she’d never forget it, either. God, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her walking into Ray’s tonight. It really was too good to be true.
He snaked a hand behind her neck and started to pull her in to make her kiss him, but she pressed her palms against his chest and pushed him away. It surprised him—she was stronger than she looked. The workouts, he supposed. Seemed they were paying off. Up to a point.
He grabbed her shoulders again and twisted suddenly and hard, bringing her to the grass on her back, coming down on top of her, straddling her hips.
“No,” she said, panting. “No, I don’t want this. Stop.”
She tried to shove him away, but Billy took hold of her throat—not hard enough to choke her, but hard enough to let her know he easily could. With his free hand he started working his belt buckle. “Don’t you be a little bitch now,” he said. “You better just be nice.”
But the pressure on her throat didn’t settle her the way he’d expected. She didn’t even try to pull loose. Instead, she put her hands on his left knee and pushed it wider, then somehow twisted and slid her right knee through the opening under his legs, all the way to her chin. He noticed her foot was bare—the flip-flop must have come off when he’d taken her down—and then he felt the foot on his hip and somehow she kicked his leg back. He almost collapsed on top of her but threw his arms forward and caught himself just in time, thinking, Goddamn little bitch, gonna make you pay for that.
He started to push himself up, but she was shoving his right knee now, and she twisted, and her left knee was coming through, the same way the right one had, the foot bare again, and suddenly both her legs were wrapped around his lower back, and he was confused because this was what he wanted, to get between her legs, but it wasn’t like that, she felt too in control, and he realized, holy shit, it was a jiu-jitsu move he’d seen guys practicing in the yard, “pulling guard” they called it, he knew the trick but it was so out of context here. Well, an Asian chick, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she might know some jiu-jitsu or whatever. It didn’t scare him. Just made him angry that she thought she could fight him off with a few martial arts moves.