He straightened, watching her closely. She stiffened, her foot moving back as though to retreat before she quickly checked the motion.
“Raven, come here,” he said more gently.
If possible, her eyes widened even more in panic at his softer tone.
He was very well aware of the risk he was taking. Convincing Raven to open her heart was fraught with danger. Not the physical kind, but the emotional kind. She had seen the result of her mother’s life with her Navy SEAL father. The long absences, the fights when he returned home, her mother’s inability to accept the danger her father faced and her father’s refusal to deal with the situation in any a way except to take more missions, to stay away longer, until finally he hadn’t returned. He had been killed while on a mission, leaving her mother to deal with her guilt, and Raven to face the world without a father.
Her lips tightened defiantly before she stalked over to him.
“Now what?" she snarled up at him.
“This.”
He lowered his head. He didn’t touch her except with his lips. He gripped the counter behind him with both hands, itching to grip her instead. No force, no demand, nothing but the arousal whipping between them, making him crazy, making her hot enough to sear.
Her lips opened on a strangled gasp, her hands reaching for his waist, her fingers curling against his flesh as his tongue surged deep inside. Slanting his head, he pressed closer, groaning when his erection cushioned against her stomach as she rubbed against him, a whimper of lust escaping her throat as he nipped at her lips, stroked them with his tongue, then delved inside for the sweet nectar of her passion.
When she was soft, pliant, molded to his body as her tongue tangled with his, he slowly drew back.
“Reno…”
Her soft gasp of protest had him gritting his teeth as he fought every instinct inside him screaming to take her to the floor, to convince her, to force her to admit what she was so obviously denying.
Instead, he drew in a hard breath and stepped away from the temptation of her sweet body. God, she had no idea how hard it was to step away from her, to leave her as aching as he ached for her. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing her. If he carried through now, took her to her bed as he wanted to so desperately, then it would weaken not just his resolve, but the inroads he had made into making her realize what they could be to each other.
“Now I’ll go.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you in the morning, Raven. I’ll bring the coffee.”
Chapter Five
Raven stomped around the house for hours, cleaning what didn’t need cleaning, cursing men, their arrogance and their damned alpha, dominant, gung-ho, hero complexes. She had cursed both Reno and her brother Clint for years for the very things that made them so special. They were warriors, determined to protect, to make a difference. And they did make a difference. But he was still being arrogant. Relationships weren’t war zones.
“There is no relationship, dammit,” she muttered furiously, stepping out of the shower and drying off quickly before fluffing her hair.
She was not going to sit around tonight and wait for him. She had waited for him too many nights, pacing the floor with Morganna, chewing her fingernails if they knew he was on a mission, shedding tears when he was later returning home than he had told his sister he would be. She and Morganna both waited for that black government car that would bring the horrifying news of a death.
Now, she was supposed to sit around the damned house and torture herself over feelings and emotions she knew she was never going to be rid of.
She loved him.
Dammit, she did love him but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
She jerked the red silk and lace thong panties and bra from her drawer and pulled them on, knowing they looked good on her. Sexy and hot. They made her feel wicked and wild. Almost as wicked and wild as Reno made her feel.
Biting her lip, her hands moved slowly, cupping her swollen breasts as her thumbs rasped over her distended nipples. She closed her eyes, and could almost feel him touching her, making the heated burn ignite fiercely in the depths of her womb.
He wasn’t supposed to do this to her. Make her miss him so desperately, make her wish she could accept as easily as he did. But he wasn’t the one who would be left to pace the floors, to fill with anger. And that was the part that terrified her. She didn’t want to be like her mother, always angry or depressed, terrified when she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive.
Reno and Morganna’s parents had died six years before in a car accident. Together. There had been no government condolences, no questions were ever answered regarding how they died. Where they died. The questions Raven’s mother had asked every day until her death.
She plucked the sexy little black dress she loved so much out of her closet as the past ate at her soul with a hollow ache. It fell halfway down her thighs, the thin straps barely covering the bra straps as the bodice draped over her breasts. The shimmery black silk felt good on her, looked good on her.
She paired it with the high-heeled, black strappy sandals and drew in a deep breath before shoving keys, cash and ID into a minuscule purse and headed downstairs.
She wasn’t married. She didn’t have to sit at home and pace the floors and she damned sure didn’t have to worry about Reno Chavez or his perceptions and arrogance. Let him sit and brood if he wanted to. She was going to play.
She was bored out of her ever-loving mind, but she wasn’t going to admit it to Morganna, who had joined her on her little evening adventure.
“Reno’s going to be pissed,” was Morganna’s only objection to the night’s activities as they walked into the small club, the pulse of the music surrounding them, the smoky atmosphere dim and not nearly as appealing as Raven tried to pretend it was.
“He'll live,” she snapped. “Your brother is entirely too dominant, Morganna. And I’m still pissed at you for letting your friends use his bed.”
“Of course he’s dominant,” Morganna laughed as they made their way through the crowd to the back of the club and a lone empty table. “He wouldn’t do what he does if he wasn’t. Admit it, Raven, it’s one of the things you love about him.”
It was one of the things that terrified her about him.
“No, that’s what you love about Clint.” She took her chair and looked around impatiently for the waitress. “I like my men a little safer. You know, Morg, the ‘stay at home and hearth’ type of guy?”