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out, weakly hitting his chest with her fists. Tears welled in her eyes, her words striking him where it hurt. “I thought it was you, you bastard.” Tears spilled one after the other, and she looked so fragile and alone he wanted to take his gun and just shoot himself with it. “Where did you go? Why did you leave?”

His harsh breaths made it difficult for him to speak, to explain to her. No words could explain. “I needed to get away.” His voice was low and raspy, his hands hanging at his sides as he allowed her to vent.

“Why? Why, Cody! Am I that repulsive?”

His heart squeezed painfully. “No.”

She began shaking her head, furiously wiping the streaming tears from her lovely pink cheeks. “Didn’t you hear what I told him, Cody?”

He shook his head, barely holding his shit together, trembling with the sheer and utter agony of seeing the woman he loved cry like this.

He had heard voices, had been locked in his room, had been too panicked to make sense of what those voices were saying. Now, he stood there, noticing the flush creeping up her neck and cheeks, fearing that he was about to find out.

“I told him ‘please’,” she whispered, covering her mouth on a sob. “I told him to please, please kiss me! I begged, Cody, I would have kept on begging!”

She was killing him with every tear, with every word. He shook his head, his voice uneven, his throat tight. “I’m no good for you, Meg.”

She started storming away, but impulsively he caught her before she could take a step. Making a small sound of grief, she fought at first, then she swallowed a sob and let him reel her back into his arms. “Shh. Just listen to me,” he murmured. “I’m no. Good. For you. Do you understand me?”

She squirmed in his hold. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He started hugging her, his arms enveloping her whole.

“Let go of me! I hate you!”

He should listen to her. He knew he should listen, but instead he hugged her tighter, feeling her squirm against him, closing his eyes to savor this one moment with Megan Banks in his arms.

What she’d said had left him flabbergasted. She’d begged for his kiss. It left him shocked, feeling like he should throw caution to the wind and—kiss her. Make her yours. Yours. She’s yours. Don’t make her beg. Never make her beg.

“I hate myself, too, Meg,” he whispered hotly as he seized her waist. “It’s all my fault. Everything. But I still think I should kiss you, so that there will never be a doubt in your mind when it’s me.”

A shudder coursed through her, but she shook her head. “But you won’t. You never do.”

He pressed the front of his body against hers, so she could feel everything—everything. His hardness. His desire.

He needed her to know there was one man, one man, who’d die for her. That he truly believed no other would ever want her the way he did. Groaning as he lost control, he nuzzled her hair, his blood pumping hot and primal in his veins.

“Can’t stop thinking that if I’d kissed you before, you’d have realized”—he pulled her face with both his hands up to his lips as her breasts crushed against his chest—“I wasn’t the one kissing you.”

She flung her arms around him as he pulled her close, slanted his head, and hungrily covered her lips with his.

The contact was amazing. Electrifying. Terrifying.

Fire raced from the tip of his lips to the soles of his feet. She moaned against him; tasted sweet and minty and warm, making him dizzy with arousal.

“Meg,” he rasped against her, turning his head to take her lips from another angle. “Mmm. So good.” He nipped, and licked, and gently bit. “Say it, say it’s me you want.”

“Please, Cody, please…”

The gasped words were so powerful he could barely take them, caught her wrists before she kissed him again, pinned them up over her head before she ripped his control to shreds.

Her chest heaved, her nipples jutting out and pushing against the fabric of her T-shirt, drawing his eyes. He bent his head, heard her catch her breath when he caught a nipple through the material with his lips.

She pulled her arms free and clutched the back of his head closer, gasping, “Oh, God, yes.”

He growled. “I feel so starved. Every time I hear you humming to yourself, every time you take a sip of whatever it is you have in your drink, I want to be tasting that sweet, sexy mouth.”

He came up and seized her lower lip between his teeth, swiping the plump flesh with his tongue, devouring her as softly as he could while he raised his hand and cupped her breast, kneading it.

She gasped when he pinched her nipple, and the sound drove him wild. He bent his head and suckled the taut bead through the thin fabric, his cock an aching pain inside his pants, his balls gathered high and straining in pain, they were so full.

Her breathing escalated, and when she mewled for him, his blood stormed through his body like an avalanche of need. He flattened her against the wall, grinding his hips against her, kissing her lips as his hands squeezed her hips, her waist, then dragged up to cup both her breasts. I love you, he thought. I love you I love you I love you.

But he pushed the words aside, the thoughts. This was sex. Animal attraction. He could never love her like she deserved, could never be the solid, dependable guy she needed. His brother was a murderer. He wasn’t the man for her. He wasn’t even man enough to stop.

Hungrily, he kissed her creamy neck and tasted her skin, soft and sweet. Mine. Mine. Mine, an

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