Micah’s knees went weak. God. He rubbed his forehead and then gripped the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“Son of a bitch. Swear to God I’m going to spank her ass,” he muttered.
Connor chuckled. “I’d pay money to see that.”
“She doesn’t need to be here. It’s not safe.”
“Agreed. She’s in my bedroom.”
Micah’s jaw tightened. He was just enough of a Neanderthal that it set him off to even think of her all snuggled up in another man’s bed, whether the man was there or not.
“Relax, man. I didn’t have any other place to put her.” Connor watched him shrewdly through narrowed eyes. “You’ve got it bad for her.”
Micah’s mouth opened in a snarl. But then he snapped it shut again. He wasn’t even going to dignify that with a response. If he did, Connor would just be convinced he was right.
Keeping a tight leash on his irritation, he got up and headed for Connor’s bedroom. It was dark, but there was just enough light coming from the cracked bathroom door that he could make out her outline.
He closed in, reaching for the lamp beside the bed. Soft light poured over her features. She flinched and screwed up her eyes but didn’t wake up. She looked ... vulnerable. His gut twisted into a giant knot when he saw the redness under her eyes. Connor was right. She’d been crying.
He cursed softly under his breath and then leaned down to kiss her cheek.
“Angel girl,” he whispered. “Wake up. Time to go home.”
She roused, blinking sleepily as she stared up at him. He knew the moment recognition set in because her eyes lost their sheen. Her lips trembled, and so help him God, if she started crying again, he was a goner.
So he did the only thing he knew to do. He kissed her.
He caught her gasp of surprise and swallowed it up. Not giving her any time to protest, he licked over her lips and then plunged inside. Warm and moist and so damn sweet.
She wrenched away and scooted backward across the bed, her eyes shooting daggers at him. And she definitely wasn’t crying.
“Go to hell, Micah.”
She hissed and spit like an angry kitten. A broad smile attacked his face at the image, which only served to piss her off more.
“You think it’s funny?”
He molded his features into a solemn expression and regarded her as earnestly as he could.
“I don’t find you running around the streets of Houston when a madman is on the loose funny at all.”
“You told me to get out,” she accused.
Micah sighed. “Angel girl, I was pissed off. I wanted you to get out. Of the room, not the house! I needed a few minutes to breathe because I didn’t want to tear a strip off your hide in my temper. I don’t remember you being this sensitive before.”
She gaped incredulously at him, and then before he could defend himself, she smacked him with a pillow. Hard. “It’s my fault because I’m sensitive?”
He reached over to snatch the pillow before she could launch it again. He snagged her wrist and held it in front of her and then slid on the bed next to her.
“Look, Angel. I’ve got a temper. I lost it. You dropped a bomb. I didn’t react well. I can’t apologize for reacting the way I did, but I can guarantee you it will happen again. You seem to have the knack of getting under my skin like no one else.”
“What the hell kind of apology is that?” she demanded.
Again he sighed. They were getting nowhere and he wanted to get her back to The House pronto. Ignoring the small fist beating his chest, he simply swept her up in his arms and strode toward the living room.
“Let me down,” she said behind gritted teeth.
Micah nodded to Connor as they past. “Get the door for me?”
Connor’s lips were twisted in amusement, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything. He opened the door for them and waved at Angelina.
“See you later, sweetie.”
“Traitor!” she hissed.
Micah dumped her into his truck and then pointed a finger at her. “You don’t move. I swear to God, Angelina, if you so much as try to get out of this truck, I’ll tan your ass like there’s no tomorrow, and furthermore I’ll enjoy it.”
She stared rigidly ahead as he slammed the door. He hurried around to the driver’s side and slid in beside her.
Not wanting to waste any more time in plain sight, he started the engine and pulled out of the lot.
“I won’t apologize,” she said stiffly. “I know you’re pissed, and maybe you have the right, but I refuse to apologize for caring about you.”
His chest caved in just a little bit at the ferocity of her words.
“Damn but you know how to take the wind out of someone’s sails,” he grumbled. “It’s damn hard to stay pissed at you when you come at me like that.”
She frowned harder at him.
“I’m not nearly as pissed at you over Mama Rose—but don’t think we won’t talk about it again—as I am over you leaving alone. Damn it, Angel, he could have gotten to you and there isn’t a damn thing I could have done about it!”
“You told me to leave.”
“Hell, I tell you a lot of things and you don’t ever seem to think you have to listen. Why on earth would you pick now to become all obedient on me?”
Her lips twitched suspiciously and she looked away to hide her smile.
He reached over to take her hand. “I never meant for you to take it so literally, but you know what? Even if I had meant it, you should have told me to go to hell just like you’re telling me now and you should have locked yourself in another room for three days and withheld sex if you really wanted to punish me.”
Her shoulders shook. She dragged a hand through her long, unruly hair and looked at him with a grimace. “So you’re saying I overreacted.”
He shrugged. “We were both upset. I’m just saying you should have stood your ground. You’ve never had that problem before.”
“I’ve never cared about someone this much before.”
His chest tightened, his throat closed off, and he gripped the steering wheel all the more tightly.
“Don’t care about me, Angel,” he said hoarsely. “Save your love for someone else.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” she said calmly.
Micah shook his head as if he could shake off her words. He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to become emotionally involved, and he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d been honest with her. Brutally so. Sex was all he could offer her. Sex and his domination. How the hell was that a substitute for love? He’d had love once, and he damn well knew sex was a piss-poor substitute.
He was still inwardly seething when they pulled up to The House. Angelina started to open her door, but he stopped her by grabbing her wrist.
“Don’t get any ideas of running and hiding from me now, Angel girl. It’s time to pay the piper.”
CHAPTER 33
Angelina stared at him with a mixture of nervousness and heightened awareness. Arousal flooded her veins at the authority in his voice, and yet she felt compelled to argue.
“This was all your fault, Hudson. Not mine. If anyone needs punishing, it’s you.”
He had no liking for the reminder of him being underneath her whip. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he rubbed a thumb sensuously over the pulse at her wrist.
“Who said anything about punishment?” he said silkily. “Maybe I enjoy watching you writhe under the heat of a whip, how you flinch away and then beg for more with your next breath.”