Free Blind: Killer Instincts by Sidney Bristol

him and finally—finally—their lips touched. The ice cream flavored the kiss and his hot mouth warmed her cold lips. She twined her arms around his neck, through his hair.
    He lifted her and set her on the counter with ease. She liked a man who could toss her around like that, it was a definite turn-on. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back against her body, letting her hands rove over him.
    “You should tell me to stop,” he whispered against her cheek.
    “Why the hell would I do that? Am I going to catch something from you? Any unwanted party favors?”
    “What? You mean a STD or STI?”
    “Yeah.”
    “No.”
    She shrugged. “Lucky for you I got my latest results in. Clean and on the pill. I’ll ask again, why should I tell you to stop?”
    “You should.” There was a tortured twist to his voice that tugged at her heart.
    “Then you shouldn’t have invited me over, because I don’t run.” She slipped her hands up under his shirt, relishing the feel of his hard body under her palm. He’d taken her by surprise last night, and she hadn’t been able to really appreciate him.
    “Damn it, Emma, this isn’t a good idea.” He pushed himself backward, breaking her hold on him.
    “What the fuck?” He had to have known, after last night, what would happen if they were in the same room again.
    He gripped the edge of the countertop as if it were his life-line.
    She shoved off the island and planted her hands on her hips.
    “I really didn’t invite you over for more than food,” he said.
    “Okay, lie to yourself if it makes you feel better.” She rolled her eyes and walked toward the dining table and her purse. She wanted him, but she wouldn’t beg.
    “Wait.” He caught her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
    “What, Jacob? You want me, then you don’t. Shit. I don’t play these fucking games.” She twisted her arm in his hold, and he actually let her go.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “For what? You’re pretty damn confusing for a dude.”
    “I know.” He gripped the counter again, his gaze searching her face for—something.
    Emma couldn’t tell what was going on in his head. Something bothered him, but she didn’t know if it was her, or them, or maybe it was just sex. Some people were weird about it.
    For some crazy reason she wanted to ease this burden weighing him down. Give him a reason to smile. But if he was determined to wallow, that was all on him.
    “Look, it’s not you—”
    “Oh please, don’t give me the ‘It’s not you; it’s me,’ line.” She rolled her eyes.
    “Emma.”
    “What? What is so damn bad about me? Or are you that complicated?” She stalked to the table and snatched up her purse.
    Jacob followed her, blocking her path. His gaze was shuttered, lines bracketing his mouth and marring his brow. She wanted to reach out and smooth the imperfections away, kiss his mouth until he smiled again because he didn’t seem to do that enough, but he wasn’t her responsibility. She didn’t have to care about him, even though she wanted to for some fucked up reason.
    “I don’t...want to—hurt—you.”
    She stared at him, running the sentence through her head. Well fuck.
    “Is this about the anger management issues?”
    He nodded.
    “So what? You get angry during sex and smack a girl around or something?”
    “No, nothing like that,” he blurted, slashing his hand through the air.
    “Then what? What’s so horrible you’re pushing me away and lying to yourself? You knew this would be more than dinner. You’re a smart guy. At least I think you are. Even you should be able to feel chemistry.”
    “Fuck.” He shoved a hand through his hair.
    Was he going to pull it together? Or should she leave now and figure out where her vibrator was?
    “You said that already.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
    “I get—rough.”
    Rough sex? That was what this was about?
    “Is that it?” She dropped her purse on the table. “You do know I’m a mechanic,