Free Taken Identity by Raven McAllan Page B

he could see this evidence as easily as she felt it.
    “By all means, try,” he said cordially, in invitation. “But beware the consequences. Try as hard as you like. Make me hard. Christ, make me come, if you want. Because, I want. To come, hard, with you, in you, on you—your choice, Jules. How and when. But know this. You try anything, and I’ll try back, and succeed. I don’t give up my Dominance unless I choose to. On this occasion I don’t think that’s at all likely.”

Chapter Four
     
     
     
    Judging by the look on his face, he was waiting for a smart comeback. For the life of her, she didn’t have one. There was nothing she could think of to say. Instead, she walked to the door. “Shall we?”
    Gray pondered. “Oh, we shall. Never fear. But for now, let’s head to your home.”
    Jules choked on a splutter.
    “Do you know, Jules, although this sexually charged repartee is enjoyable, the hard-on I have to suffer—and suffer is the word—bloody well is not. I hope you’re feeling as horny and frustrated as I am. I want nothing more than to strip you, hold you down and fuck the living daylights out of you. Then tan your arse until it’s as red as your hair. So now you know.” His voice was hoarse.
    “Ah. Okay. Um. Oh, good. Thank you, I think.”
    “Take it from me, once I sort this whole sodding mess out, find out about my is-she-or-isn’t-she wife—who I hasten to add is responsible for all the negatives in my life at the moment—I won’t let you from under me for a week.” He stopped, and she watched, fascinated as a wolfish grin spread over his face. “Except to put you over me, in me, around me…” He shrugged. “Until that time comes, until I sort this unrepeatable bleep of a woman out, I guess I will be worshiping at the shrine of Pam and her five sisters. That is a journey I’ve rarely undertaken these last few years.”
    Jules looked at him blankly before bursting out laughing. “Pam and her…? Oh my God, what an expression. I love it.”
    Gray’s face was almost the color of her hair. “Trust me when I say I don’t. Having to use her, I mean. Hell, it’s not something I’ve had the need or desire for since I was a scrubby schoolboy. Not until you came on the scene.”
    Typical man, blame her for—well, Jules , she thought, actually, it is a compliment. What she was going to do about it, she wasn’t sure yet. Yes, she might fancy the pants off him, but there was way too much baggage being carried about to even contemplate what she was contemplating. Wasn’t there?
    As he followed her to the door, holding it open to allow her to precede him, Jules felt his eyes fixed steadily on her rear.
    “Stop ogling,” she snapped. Grief, had her moods ever been so mercurial before?
    “Careful, pet.” His voice was level, but his determination rang out loud and clear. “You’ve had a lot of leeway, and if you want us to go back to being virtual strangers with no electricity and tension between us, now’s the time to say so. Otherwise, I’ll ogle if I so choose. It gives me something positive, something good to look at and think about. It is a perfect rear view and perfect front view, as well, if I’m honest.”
    Shit, talk about embarrassment.
    “Yes, sorry, Sir.” Where on earth had that come from?
    “Not yet, pet, but soon, I hope.” He must have guessed she was self-conscious about her slip, because he changed the subject with aplomb.
    “What about dinner? Shall we eat now, or can we call for something later?”
    She laughed aloud at that. “Typical townie statement that, Gray. Who d’you think will deliver to us out in the sticks? There’s no conveniently situated take-away. However, if you’re happy with home cooking, there’s no problem.”
    Gray stared at her, looking as if he could hardly believe his ears.
    “Replay what you said. Home…cooking. Oh, yeah, sadly, I did mishear. You said cooking. Cooking. With a C .”
    Huh? Oh, that was it. She was going to