me, like the laptop.”
He sighs hea一vily.
“Okay. On loan. Indefinitely.” He looks warily at me.
“No, not indefinitely, but for now. Thank you.”
He frowns. I reach up and kiss him briefly on his cheek.
“Thank you for the car, sir.” I say as sweetly as I can manage.
He grabs me suddenly and yanks me up against him, one hand at my back holding me to him and the other fisting in my hair.
“You are one challenging woman, Ana Steele.” He kisses me passionately, forcing my lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners.
My blood heats immediately, and I’m returning his kiss with my own passion. I want him badly – in spite of the car, the books, the soft limits… the caning… I want him.
“It’s taking all my self-control not to fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking car,” he growls. “Now let’s get you inside and naked.” He plants a swift rough kiss on me.
Boy, he’s angry. He grabs my hand and leads me back into the apartment and straight into my bedroom… no passing go. My subconscious is behind the sofa again, head hidden under her hands. He switches on the sidelight and halts, staring at me.
“Please don’t be angry with me,” I whisper.
His gaze is impassive; his gray eyes cold shards of smoky glass.
“I’m sorry about the car and the books,” I trail off. He remains silent and brooding. “You scare me when you’re angry,” I breathe, staring at him.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. When he opens them, his expression has softened fractionally. He takes a deep breath and swallows.
“Turn round,” he whispers. “I want to get you out of that dress.”
Another mercurial mood swing, it’s so hard to keep up. Obediently, I turn and my heart is thumping, desire instantly replacing unease, coursing through my blood and settling dark and yearning low, low in my belly. He scoops my hair off my back so it hangs down my right side, curling at my breast. He places his index finger at the nape
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