Free Call Me Killer by Linda Barlow Page B

didn't lose her pride. She didn't act as if some psycho monster had her in his grip. She was still addressing me as a human being, the way she had from the start. Even with my fingers closed around her throat, she didn't believe I was a killer.
    I loosened my grip, but I didn't release her. I shook her a little. “I don't get you. I don't fucking understand you, Rory.”
    She reached up and stroked my cheek with the tip of her fingers. A subtle touch, a tentative caress—the kind you give to someone you might actually care about. It felt good, but it just confused me more. Who was she? What was she doing in my life?
    Other things had begun to intrude—the feel of her skin, her scent, her breasts through the thin top she had on. Damn, but I wanted to fuck her. My naked cock was out in the open, declaring itself loud and clear. Touching her was just making it throb all the more. I needed to slide myself inside her, and quickly. I hadn't felt this much sheer, crazy lust for a woman since I couldn't remember when.
    “I don't fucking understand me, either.” Going up on her tiptoes, she tilted back her head and kissed my mouth.
    It was gentle and sweet—a tender gesture when I'd done nothing to earn such a thing.
    I had just threatened her in the crudest way, and she could still be tender with me?
    It made me feel ashamed.
    And I didn't know how to manage that. I didn't need shame, I didn't need guilt—I’d had enough of both to last me all my days. Nor did I want any of the softer feelings of caring or protectiveness or even amusement that this stray seemed to inspire in me.
    Fuck all the sloppy emotions that were swamping and confusing me. I was bad, a suspected killer. Who the hell was this girl who was making my head spin?
    Nope, I couldn't deal.
    So I did what I always do—I covered it all with anger.
    I pushed her away.
    “You know what? You don't know dick about me. So take your smartass questions and your touches and your kisses and your—your limits , and get the fuck out of my place.”
    Grabbing my pants, I stalked into my bedroom and slammed the door.

Chapter 12
     
    Rory
     
    Okay, I’d messed that up, big time.
    The truth was now painfully obvious.
    Painful because there was an ache to the south of my belly that wouldn’t go away.
    Was he really going to kick me out this time?
    I mean, he was certainly strong enough. He could lift me up and fling me out his door. Why hadn’t he done that already? Maybe he secretly hoped I wouldn’t leave? Maybe he even liked me a little?
    Yeah, right, and if he did I was rapidly blowing any chance with him that I might’ve had.
    Why did I even want a chance with him? Yeah he was gorgeous, but let’s face it he wasn’t my type.
    Shit. My thoughts were flying all over the place. I’m supposed to be rational, logical, sensible. Well, maybe not sensible. My mom always reminds me that just because I have brains doesn’t mean I have sense.
    I was used to being surrounded by geeks. I understood them. I’d always been one of them. I’d taken pride in that fact. But now I was out of my depth. It was like mixing with a different species or something.
    Most of the guys I hung with didn’t look anything like this tall, muscular ancient god of buffness whose blue eyes and sensual mouth were turning me into a big puddle of goo.
    To say nothing of that lovely sculpted hard dick. I had no trouble imagining how great it would feel to have that sliding into me.
    But hot dudes like him usually weren't interested in me. Not that way.
    I’d never learned how to flirt or flutter my eyelashes or lead with my boobs or my hips that way other girls did. They seemed to know instinctively how to do that come-on shit. Maybe I was never meant to pass on my genes, though, because I sure didn’t have the basic instinct for seduction.
    But I was here, and no other chick was, so there was that forced proximity thing going for me. A guy like him wasn't gonna turn down free sex if he got the