"Because those Coyotes are trying to kill you, Megan." Lance leaned forward, his voice guttural, filled with anger.
"Because I'll be damned if I'll sit back and watch you walk into a f**king ambush. So get used to it. You can cooperate in this or I'll contact the family and we'll all move in with you. How does that one sound?"
She jerked upright. Contact the family? Her eyes widened at the threat, then narrowed furiously. It wasn't helping that she could tell Braden was enjoying every moment of the confrontation.
"Like hell." She tried to keep her voice reasonable as she cast Braden an accusing stare. She was definitely going to blame him for this.
She hadn't lived with anyone since she had left the Academy. She couldn't handle the emotions that vibrated between the walls from others, the resonation of nightmares, dreams, hopes and fears. And God knew, Braden had to have plenty of nightmares. And that was beside the fact that he made her jittery. Well, maybe jittery was the wrong word. Nervous, uncertain, not comfortable in her own skin. The thought of him was enough to arouse her, and the memory of that little nip to her ear was enough to set flares of sensation racing through her sex.
"Megan, what the hell is wrong with you? She could tell Lance was as confused by her outbursts as she was.
"You know you're not safe."
She flashed him a severe look. He knew what was wrong with her.
"I can't do it," she retorted, reminding him of the problems she had living with others, dealing with their fears, their emotions. "You know I can't."
His expression hardened. "You don't have a choice."
She turned on her heel and stalked to the door, refusing to argue the point further, refusing-period.
"Megan, damrnit, come back here." Lance's anger was like a whip stinging her sensitive mind. She shook her head as she gripped the doorknob, glancing back at the two men disdainfully.
"I don't think so." She smiled coldly. "Find him another bed. I don't have one free," she informed them with a calm she didn't feel before jerking the door open and fleeing the room.
She stomped the short distance to her own office, determined to collect what she needed before heading to the desert. Patrol was mostly boring as hell, but at least there she had a chance to calm her mind, to think logically. She really needed to think logically right now.
As she stepped into her office, without warning, she was pushed against the wall as the door slammed closed and a distinctive, warning growl sounded from the chest her face was currently pressed against.
Struggling didn't help. She tried to kick, to bite, to slap, and each move was countered until she stilled, silent, fighting to ignore an instinctive burning arousal that began flaming in the hungry depths of her pu**y.
Son of a bitch. She wanted him. She stared up at him in realization, feeling a flush of pure pleasure racing over her flesh as he held her to him. Had she ever felt this? Ever known such intensity of sensation from so little?
"Finished now?' Braden's voice was calm, infuriatingly amused but tinged with dark hunger.
She refused to answer. He moved back enough to stare down at her. Megan refused to speak. If she did, she might have to do something stupid. Something irrational. Something guaranteed to get her into trouble. And…
He had a hard-on.
Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the thick wedge of flesh pressing against her lower stomach, hot and hard, and if she wasn't mistaken,
more impressive than the bulge she had glimpsed the day before.
"Let. Me. Go." She forced the words from between her clenched teeth as her cl*t screamed in protest. She wanted to rub against him, feel her ni**les raking his chest, and that just made her madder.
"You're not going to win." He held her arms behind her back with one broad hand, refusing to release her as he arched her closer. The other hand gripped her braid to pull her head back.
His eyes were dark gold, staring down at her with a latent sensuality that had her womb spasming and her sex creaming furiously.
Yes, she hated him. She did. She hated him bad.
"Don't bet on it." She narrowed her eyes, staring up at him furiously even as her body screamed with the pleasure of being so close to him. "I don't want or need you. And the next time you manhandle me, I'm going to shoot you."
His lips quirked in amusement.
"You try to shoot me, and I might have to bite you again." Her eyes widened in shock as his head lowered, his lips settling at her abused ear lobe to draw it into his mouth and lick it.
She jerked her head to the side, trying to slam it into his.
Moving back, he chuckled, the sound rough and heated as he stared down at her once again.
"Keep your damned vampire teeth to yourself," she snapped. "And let me go or I'm going to scream bloody murder on your ass. This is called harassment, you know. Sexual harassment."
"Hmm, that's not sexual harassment, baby. When I decide to get sexual, trust me, you'll know it." He did let her go though. Slowly. Too damned slowly. "Now sit down and we'll talk this out." The latent warning in his tone caused her to tense.
"You talk it out." She drew herself up stiffly, staring back at him indignantly as the urge to scream became almost overwhelming. He had to be the most infuriating, most stubborn man she had ever met in her life. "I am going to breakfast. A nice quiet breakfast. Without you. Then I am going on patrol. Without you. I do not need your help. I do not want it. Do you understand this?" Damned dimwitted male that he was, he probably hadn't even heard her.