Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)(23)

His vision flickered.





Being pissed off and horny at the same time was a deadly combination.

Oh, Lita was fuming as she ran along the shaded dirt path. James thought she was so predictable, did he? Thought she was some walking cliché who needed to resort to jealousy to score points? Well, screw the hell out of that. They were way beyond petty jealousy at this point.

The way he’d looked at her like some wayward teenager, even after she’d come here to make things right burned. And it had come right on the heels of him so casually reminding her Old News would be continuing on without him. God, maybe this whole trip had been a waste of her time. He’d made up his decision and the longer she spent here, attempting to change his steel-trap mind, she became more of a fool.

“Lita.”

She ran faster, her footsteps falling in time with her scattered breathing. Her jagged heartbeat. Plans had gone out the window and now instinct ruled the day. He’d made her feel like the weakest version of herself and now she wanted to return the favor. Or…God, maybe this was a last-ditch effort to break through to him. She didn’t know anymore. Could only run away from the idea of living without him. Run away from the girl that had driven him away, the girl James believed her to be.

Tears obscured her vision but she pushed on, ducking off the path and sprinting across a forest floor of soft, brown earth and green, fallen leaves—

Lita’s progress came to an abrupt halt as her feet left the ground. An unyielding arm banded around her waist, yanking her backward into a chest that left no doubt her captor was James. She could smell his singular musk, she could…feel his excitement against her bottom. The evidence that her impulsive run had yielded that effect somehow incited her rage, while still managing to swamp her in arousal.

“Stop.” James rasped the agonized word into her neck but negated the command by thrusting his erection against her backside.

A part of Lita wanted to turn and soothe him, take away the misery she could hear in his voice. But she wouldn’t. If he was determined to send her home a failure, she’d prove a point first. This thing that had kept them apart so long, this facet of him that he didn’t think she could handle? She’d been game for it since day one.

“Stop what?” She tried to pull away, but James hauled her back. “I’m not running anymore. You won’t let me.”

His groan lifted goose bumps on every inch of her skin. “Lita, I’m in trouble here. Say the words.”

“Which ones? Fuck you?” She pulled her elbow forward and rammed it back into his stomach, satisfied when his vile curse burned her ear. It loosened his hold long enough for her to pull free and start running—only to be brought down to the forest floor, flat onto her stomach, James’s grip circling her right ankle.

Yes. Yes. Oh my God, yes. Hot, pulsing anticipation began to trip and skitter through Lita’s veins, racing below her belly button, bursting like fireworks. She clawed at the dirt in an attempt to get away, but being prevented, being pulled backward through the damp dirt to the space beneath James’s hungry body almost blinded her with hunger. She wanted to be forced down and taken. Wanted her body used without apology. Hard.

Now. Now.

She also didn’t want to ask. She wanted to be told. It wasn’t merely the dark brand of lust, but anger and frustration at the man pinning her down. If he wanted it, there was no way in hell she’d give him permission. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Get off me,” Lita said through clenched teeth, attempting to twist onto her back and being thwarted. “I hate you.”

“Not yet.” He transferred his weight to one side, creating room to run his palm up the bare back of her thighs, where he fingered the fringe of her jean shorts. “But you will if you don’t say the goddamn words.”

That grating command gave her a burst of energy. Lita threw an elbow back and connected with his collarbone. Nothing. He didn’t so much as flinch. Was he made of granite? Even without seeing his face, she could imagine the tense lines between his eyebrows. Could see brackets around his sensual mouth. Feel the starvation pouring off him in waves. His touch moved higher to palm her bottom, separating her cheeks and squeezing them crudely.

Wetness trickled down between her thighs, forcing her to swallow a gasp.

“We talked about this, Lita.” His tone had changed, grown more predatory, and everything inside her sung in response. “We talked about that tight cradle between your legs and how well I was made to fit there. You’ve been flashing it at me all morning like a dick tease.”

“No, I haven’t,” she breathed, knowing full well it was a lie but liking the way it felt wrong on her tongue. Loved the way wrong suddenly felt right. Vital.

“A liar, too, aren’t you?” He crammed his hand between Lita’s pelvis and the soft ground, working the button of her pants with ruthless movements. Every nudge of his knuckle against her belly set off a chain of sparks inside her. Bright, needy sparks. “What am I going to do with this hard cock, Lita? How am I going to satisfy myself unless I f*ck you into the ground?”

Her zipper came down with a muffled, metallic sound. Big, blunt fingers invaded her panties, stroking through her wet folds without a hint of gentleness. The first contact of skin on skin paralyzed her in its long-awaited perfection, but his middle finger’s rough jostling of her clit woke her limbs up. It stung in a brutally fantastic way. A way that would bring an orgasm tearing through her middle without consent, and she couldn’t allow that. Not a chance. Not yet.