Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(109)

“I wish I'd saved it for later. I'd have held it and waited until you came in.”

God, it would've felt so f*cking good to belt him in his stupid handsome face with that thing.

A smile pulled at his lips. An instant later, he was on me like a wolf, pinning me to the bed with ease.

“I'm gonna let you up, and you're gonna get dressed. We got shit to talk about. But not here. I'm not comfortable keeping you cooped up in this room forever.”

Something about the icy, commanding tone in his voice tasted extra bitter. I narrowed my eyes, pouring heat through his dark blue gaze.

“No.”

One of his eyebrows twitched. “Don't f*cking make me stuff you into a dress. I'll do it with my own bare hands if I have to. It's been a rough few days. That's why I'm gonna go easy on your sweet ass. Work with me. Don't make the rest of your week hell, babe.”

“I don't care anymore. It's not like I have a choice. I never did.”

“What the f*ck are you talking about?” He growled.

“I don't believe a word of what I saw on that tablet. Did you really think I'd buy it when I couldn't connect to the web on my own? How was I supposed to fact check anything?”

“I was doing you a goddamned favor.” More thunder in his voice. “I laid it all out. You wouldn't have found shit anywhere that wasn't already in those documents.”

His muscles tightened around me. His hands had slid behind my back. It took all my energy not to flinch, not to let the heat smoldering beneath my skin reach an inferno.

Bastard! Even when I wanted to hate him, bite him, kick and scratch, being this close activated more primal instincts that weren't ruled by sane emotions.

“I don't need anything from you. I'm done with this. Let me go or kill me.”

He took a good, long look at me. His eyes were glowing like the devilishly powerful, sexy predator he was. He scared me, but the current running through my nerves was far more fearsome.

If this was my fate, a prisoner to this insane attraction, I hoped he'd put me out of my misery.

“Get. Dressed.” This time, his growl was barely human.

It almost made me move. Almost. But I held my ground, planted my hands on his chest, and pushed against him.

Resistance. It taunted him, and he responded.

In a flash, he flipped me over and ripped at my gown. I yelped when I heard the thin fabric tearing in his hands. Then he was pulling at me as one shredded strap fell across my shoulder, lifting me up into his arms.

I thrashed and yelled, trying to fight him, but he held on. He pulled me over to the huge closet and pushed me inside. I caught myself against one of the large mirrors just as he kicked the door shut.

He turned his back to me, rifling through the outfits overhead. I watched him stop on a sleek red cocktail dress. He spun, threw it at me, and I somehow caught it in my flailing arms.

“Put that f*cking thing on and come out when you're done.” The second my mouth popped open, he closed the two steps between us and pushed his hand over my lips. “Think real, real carefully, babe. If the next answer outta your sweet mouth isn't 'okay' or 'yes, sir,' then I'm gonna dress you up myself. Don't f*cking make me, Sabrina. I'm gonna get a good, long view of you naked real soon, but I don't want it like this. I don't wanna ruin my surprise.”

His hand tightened over my mouth, and then it was gone. I fell backwards, holding the dress out in front of me, shielding the bare shoulder he'd revealed by tearing at my gown. Any inch of me exposed to this bastard was too much, too vulnerable.

“Go,” I said softly. “I'll do it.”

He nodded, satisfied, and stepped out, closing the door behind him more gently than I expected.

What else was there to do but listen? If he was really taking me outside this room, maybe there'd be another chance to calculate my flimsy odds of escape. Assuming he wasn't dragging me out into the thick woods I'd seen through the window to shoot me, of course.

I didn't think so. He wouldn't be dressing me for that. By some sick miracle, he still needed me. Probably the only reason he put up with my crap.

Not that I cared. I wasn't going to stop flinging it his way. If I couldn't get away from him, then I'd make his life as miserable as I could.

The dress was weirdly calming against my skin. It was quality fabric, something familiar, the sort of thing I was used to wearing out on my girls' nights back in college.

The lights were on in the bedroom when I stepped out. Anton was waiting.

“Fucking shit,” he said, moving his eyes up my body, admiring me from head to toe. “Follow me.”

We took a different direction in the hall, heading for what seemed like the house's west wing. He took a fork to a staircase leading up, banishing my hopes of an easy escape path on the ground. I kept my legs moving, up the long stairway with three different landings.

A narrower floor waited up top. He opened the first door and pulled me in after him when I took the last step.

It was another bedroom – but not quite like anything I'd seen before.

All the luxurious trappings were there: a bed, fine stained dressers, a dark blue rug. The window and the walls were completely encased in glass like it was some kinda sun room or observatory.

He motioned to a small silver telescope in the corner. “I like to come here to think and gaze at the stars. Not that we'll be doing much of that tonight. I picked this room because being under the night sky has a way of settling my brain the f*ck down.”