Free Against the Rules by Tori Carson Page B

If she didn’t cave, he could believe her subterfuge. Or at least that was the lie she told herself.
    “Actually, I was trying to find my shoes.” She searched his face trying to gauge his mood. “I can’t remember exactly when I took them off.”
    “I hid them. It’s part one of my master plan to have you barefoot and tied to the stove.”
    “Tied to the stove? Hmm, sounds kinky.”
    Looking her steadily in the eyes, his voice became a seductive whisper. “Take off the shirt, Channy,” he commanded. “I want you again.”
    She knew he was already hard. Who could miss that? But there was also something different about him. He didn’t believe her—she’d doubted that he would. He wasn’t stupid. So what did he believe? His body language was deceptive. At first glance he appeared calm and relaxed, yet Chantel knew he was ready for anything. His slow and languid movements were a careful façade. During their sexual marathon, Reese had proven to be incredibly strong with faster than usual reflexes. Though she was trained in martial arts, she doubted she could take him.
    A shiver of fear ran down her spine as she wondered why she was considering him a potential opponent. What had caused such a thought? Did she feel threatened? Was her subconscious trying to warn her? Her father had always taught her to trust her instincts.
    But her instincts were as confused as the rest of her. Her body throbbed with need. Need for Reese. Yet her brain told her something was off. He was distant. A little cold. But what had she expected? He’d caught her going through his house. She had gone through his personal things—not that she’d found anything personal. Still, she had violated his trust. He hadn’t called her on it, but they both knew. She would have been pissed off if the shoe were on the other foot.
    She met his gaze, determined to discover his secrets. Major mistake! His eyes were dangerous weapons guaranteed to drop a woman on the nearest bed in minutes flat. And she was certainly a woman. All her feminine parts were highly susceptible to him. Really, what did it matter if he had secrets? She had a few of her own.
    Slowly, she began to release the buttons from their holes. “If all you want is me tied to the stove, why do I need to take off the shirt?” she asked with feigned innocence. “It’s easier to cook for you with clothes on.”
    Men like Reese tended to have ADHD as far as women were concerned. Fickle, never able to focus on one, always conquering. Undoubtedly leaving a string of broken hearts in their wake. Although she wasn’t proud of her decision, she still intended to enjoy as much of Reese as he was willing to give. Chantel doubted that she would ever get Reese completely out of her system. When he left her, and he would, her heart wouldn’t be the only thing to miss him terribly.
    “Hmm, perhaps I misspoke. While I am starving, darlin’, mere food will not abate my hunger. And though I’ve never seen my shirt look better, I want to see what’s under it.”
    Slowly, Chantel started undoing the buttons from the bottom leaving her ample bosom still covered.
    “And you are taking way too long,” he warned, before he pounced with the grace of a jungle cat onto the bed beside her.
    A look of absolute desire sent another lightning strike straight through her core, searing any lingering doubts she might have had.
    Buttons flew through the air as he ripped the shirt apart, uncovering her breasts. “That’s better! Much, much better,” he murmured. In total contrast, he gently removed the remnants of his shirt from her body then threw her over his shoulder and stalked into the master bedroom.
    “I’ve decided the bed is better than the stove. It has many more possibilities.” He sounded gruff and stern, but his hands were tender and careful of her.
    Instead of ravishing her body as she’d expected, he snuggled around her and just held her.
    “But that can wait. For a little while anyway.” He