Chapter 9: His Cabin

I took the step, and then I took his shirt in my fist and kissed him.

It was not gentle.

I was angry, and I put every bit of it into his mouth.

He made a low sound and kissed me back just as hard.

His hands came up to my face, and then they dropped, and he gripped my hips and hauled me against him.

"You're furious with me," he said into my mouth.

"Yes."

"And you still want me."

"Shut up, Boone."

I shoved him back until his knees hit the edge of the bed.

He sat down hard.

I stood over him and pulled my sweater off over my head, and my bandaged hand caught in the sleeve.

He reached up and freed it.

He was very careful with that hand.

He turned it over and kissed the heel of my palm, right beside the stitches.

My breath caught.

"That wasn't in the plan," I said.

"Didn't know you had one."

"I'm firing you."

"Dad already did."

"Then I'm doing something else."

I pushed him flat on his back and climbed over him.

I tugged his shirt open, and buttons skittered across the floor.

His chest was broad and brown and scarred in places I had never seen.

There was a long pale line along his ribs, and I put my mouth on it.

He swore.

His hands slid under my bra and unhooked it with one flick.

When it fell, he looked at me.

He looked at me for a long moment, and his hands came up very slowly and cupped me.

"God, Annie," he said, rough.

His thumbs moved over my nipples, and I arched and gasped and ground down against the hard ridge in his jeans.

He lifted his head and took one in his mouth.

I put my good hand in his hair and held on.

It had been a very long time since anyone had wanted me this much.

I had not known that until I felt his mouth, hot and wet and greedy, pulling at me.

"More," I said.

He gave me more.

He rolled us over so I was on my back on the narrow bed with my legs around his hips.

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