Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)(130)

Trap. She sighed, seeking a way to defuse the situation. He always lost his mind when they were out in public. You have to know I think you’re gorgeous. The most handsome man I’ve ever seen. You know the physical reaction I have to you. You know I love you. You have to know that. I tell you and I show you. Every time I touch you, I show you. It doesn’t make sense that you’re jealous. You know I’m only attracted to you.


How do I know that when you’re flirting? Letting another man put his f*cking hands on you?


She bit back her first retort, took a calming breath and let it out. He saved me from falling. Would you rather have seen me facedown on the floor?


Better that than his lap.


She wanted to scream. Really scream in sheer frustration. She knew Trap could be difficult and rude. She knew he could shut down his emotions. This wasn’t shutting down. This was feeling. The emotion he was feeling wasn’t good. She couldn’t believe he was jealous. It just didn’t make sense to her. She tried hard to go back over everything that had transpired to check her own behavior.


She’d been nervous. She didn’t like to fly. The plane was all over the place, and she would have fallen if Malichai hadn’t steadied her. The next jolt he had pulled her into his lap, but… Had she clutched at his shoulders for support? She didn’t remember.


Damn it. Stop f*cking thinking about him. Trap leaned into her, yanking her hand up his thigh, nearly to his groin. So close she could feel the heat pulsating right through his jeans.


She’d been trying to figure out if she’d given him a reason, and he was just making things worse.


You make it easy to think about anyone but you. The moment the retort was out of her mouth, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake.


Trap dragged her hand over the large bulge in his slacks, forcing her palm to curl around all that heat. Then I’ll make it easy for you to think about me. You like this, don’t you, Cayenne? His hand moved hers up and down, stroking his thick cock through the material of his trousers. You remember how I feel? How I taste? If you can’t wait, I can indulge you right now.


Stop it. She tried to tug her hand out from under his. I don’t want you.


Really? I can see your nipples hard as twin rocks. You think I put my mouth on you that you aren’t going to give me whatever I want?


Furious, she tried to pull away, unsure if her anger was directed entirely at him. She couldn’t help the little throb of reaction in her deepest core just touching him. And she could taste him in her mouth.


He tightened his fingers around hers so that she could actually feel his pulse through the material of his slacks. His heartbeat. The jerk of his cock. Her breathing turned ragged. Labored. He was far stronger than he was.


You could build us a cocoon, baby. Nice and thick. Suck my cock right here. I’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Then the team could see your handiwork. The silk you want to show them so badly.


If she could have, she would have slapped his face. For one moment, she had actually felt the terrible call between them, that sensual, hot grip of need and hunger that pulsed between them. Now she felt pure fury.


You’re being a world-class bastard.


Baby. I am a world-class bastard. That’s the man you f*cking tied yourself to. His fingers moved over her wedding rings. You knew exactly what I was like going into it and you aren’t going to back out now because you get raked over the coals – justifiably – for nearly giving your silk to another man.


Her breath hissed out between her teeth. She wanted to bite him. Hard. Inject enough venom in him to force his mouth closed. The temptation was strong, but he had ensured her venom wouldn’t work on him.


First of all, I never once intimated to you that I was going to back out on our marriage. I gave my word and my word is every bit as good as yours. More importantly, you ass, your accusations aren’t justified. You know very well I was making an effort with your friends on your behalf.


Because I want you to crawl into their laps. His voice dripped sarcasm.


She was so done with trying to be reasonable. She wanted to scratch his eyes out. He wasn’t even looking at her. If we’re going to have a fight, you can at least look at me.


We’re not going to have a fight. You’re going to sit next to me all the way home. When we get to the house you’re going to get in my bed. The others will go to their homes and we’ll be alone. I’m done with this conversation until then.


Now he didn’t want to fight with her. Great. Cayenne was done with it as well. She hated it when he went all arrogant and bossy on her like this. In bed, that was fine, she could be just as arrogant and bossy. That was fun. This was… not.


You’re being a bastard, Trap. You’re angry with Violet, not with me. Don’t take it out on me.


Then stop making it easy by thinking of other men. Another man touches you, Cayenne, and I’ll f*cking kill him.


She remained silent. He sounded like he meant that. Right now, in his present mood, she wasn’t certain what to expect. He was just a little scary like this. His hand still pressed hers directly over his heavy erection. How he could have an erection when they were fighting, she didn’t know. Clearly she didn’t understand men – especially him.