Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(62)

She actually hunched, feeling the punch in her stomach. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat, determined to go all the way. If he wanted her to talk before walking out, then she was going to do it. “What about love, Mack? You’ve never once said you loved me.”

He shoved a hand through his hair in a quick, almost angry gesture, his eyes glittering. “What the hell do you want from me? I just told you how I felt. A few minutes ago you were screaming my name and begging me not to stop. What we have together is good. Great. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Except you want to be rid of me.”

He threw his hands into the air. “Of course that’s all you heard.” He was the one who was always in control. He had discipline in every aspect of his life but one. Jaimie. There was no discipline with her. No restraint. He turned into an animal, a jealous, primitive beast he barely recognized. Was he supposed to be proud of that?

Just looking at her with her silky curls tumbling in disarray around her face, that mouth that was every man’s fantasy, he closed his eyes, remembering how he’d taught her to use it for his pleasure. He’d taught her—everything. And Jaimie always gave herself to him without reservation. He’d been older, her protector. He knew she was smarter, but he could keep up with her intellectually and provide the stimulus she needed for her mind. The rest, well, frankly, he was the dominate one.

He’d always had the upper hand in their relationship. He’d always known he could walk away from her and be just fine. Until she’d left him. He realized how much he actually managed to fool himself. Jaimie’s hold on him was impossible to break. He thought he owned her but it was the other way around. Hell, yeah, he resented it. What man wouldn’t? No other woman would do for him.

No one had touched her before him. Two long years. He saw the way Spagnola had looked at her. Had Spagnola touched her? He couldn’t ask. Didn’t want to know. He was afraid of what he might do to the other man. Mack rubbed his pounding temples. What the hell was wrong with him? Hell, yeah, he resented that she could make him this crazy.

Jaimie shook her head. “We’re back to exactly the same place we were before I left. You were fine there, Mack, but I wasn’t. I don’t want to base my entire relationship on sex. You can have sex with anyone. Women fall all over you.”

“We don’t just have sex, honey; we have spectacular sex. Come on, you have to admit, no one can do what I can to you—with you.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know that.”

He went very still. Inside, something dark and dangerous moved, coiled and ready to strike. Every vestige of amusement was wiped from his face. He looked what he was, lethal and frightening as he stepped very close to her. “We have an understanding, Jaimie.” His voice had gone very quiet again. Violence rode him hard. Aggression. All the characteristics that made him great at hunting prey stared out at her through his eyes, and he let it.

“Do we?” She stared right back, not wilting like the Jaimie of old.

He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her to him. “Don’t f*ck with me about this. We’re going to make it work.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t have one romantic bone in your body?”

His gut knotted, hard, brutal twisting lumps of fear. “Is that what you need to be happy with me, Jaimie? Pretty words?”

Jaimie studied his face. His expression was a mask. Unreadable. But he was holding his breath. Actually holding his breath. If she didn’t answer him soon, he was going to turn blue.

“I’d like you to say how you feel about me now and then, Mack. A relationship can only work so long built on sex. What happens if we can’t have sex? Is it over for us? Do you just move on?”

He scowled at her. “How shallow do you think I am?”

“I’m looking for a partnership.”

“You had that.”

“Did I? You didn’t listen to a word I said, Mack. You’ve always led and I followed, but not blindly. I went with you because you made sense. When you didn’t, when we were walking into something dangerous, I expected you to talk it over with me first, to at least listen to what I had to say.” She sat on the edge of the desk, barefoot, inhaling the scent of sex and his skin. She loved the way he smelled. Masculine and edgy, usually combined with sex.

She’d missed him. Missed everything about him. Especially the sex. And yet, their sex together, as great as it had been, had never been close to what he’d just given her. She’d missed that look in his eyes just before he kissed her. He was incredibly strong, but he’d never once hurt her, not even when they were making wild love and he seemed ruthless and out of control. His touch with her was gentle. She loved that about him, his care of her. Was she just wanting too much? Did she need too much?

Mack stepped into her, reaching for her thighs as if he owned her. As if he knew his touch made her weak. He spread her thighs and moved between her legs. Up close. He loomed over the top of her, making her feel small and vulnerable and fragile. She knew she wasn’t, but he still made her feel that way. She’d always loved him. Now she couldn’t look at him without craving him. She could taste him in her mouth, breathe him in her lungs.

“Mack.” She whispered his name. A plea.

“I’m not letting you go, Jaimie. We’ll work it out. Whatever you need. I’ll figure it out. Just cut me a little slack. I’m never going to get over you walking out on me. You shook me up and I’m still dealing with it.”