The Thrill of the Chase by Lynda Chance Read Free Book Online Page A

hammering in her neck against his rough palms.
    His eyes ran over her face, her cheekbones, her trembling lips. " It would be intense, blonde girl. Very intense. "
    Her heart raced faster as the ribbon of need running through her almost crippled her. " Gibson, please. "
    " No, it wouldn ' t work. " His voice was flat.
    " Please, " she whispered. She knew in that moment she was begging him, but she couldn ' t seem to make herself care.
    " No, it wouldn ' t work, " he repeated, the words coming softer this time.
    In desperation, she began to plead with him. " Okay. It wouldn ' t work. I understand. " Her pulse beat a fierce tattoo through her brain. She licked her lips. " Please . One kiss. Just so I ' ll know. " Her eyes watched him.
    He studied her lips and the haunting need in her eyes. He moved one hand away from her neck and smoothed it over the softness of her cheek. It continued a path up into her hair and gripped her scalp. His other hand fell from her neck and wrapped around her waist, lifting her onto her tiptoes and pulling her torso into his.
    Their gazes found each other and held as sexual heat arced between them.
    His lungs pulled in oxygen. " I shouldn ' t do this. I ' ll only be punishing myself. " His words were pained.
    " Please, Gibson, " she whispered.
    " It sounds good when you beg me. I like it. I ' ve thought about you begging me. "
    Pleasure curled through her when she realized he ' d also thought about how it would be between them.
    He dipped his head and his mouth closed over hers, stalling the oxygen in her lungs. She whimpered as his tongue pushed into her mouth.
    Her knees began shaking and the butterflies began fluttering in her stomach as his scent, his taste inundated her senses.
    She hung in his arms as she tried to get her brain to function. She had one thought only. Gibson was finally kissing her!
    But just as soon as the thought came, despair hit her as she realized what kind of a kiss he was giving her.
    A punishing kiss .
    A kiss filled with anger and retribution. And hunger. Oh, yes, she felt it. His hunger . But she also felt his anger as his hands lifted around her face and held her to him, his tongue stabbing repeatedly in her mouth as if he couldn ' t get enough. As if he couldn ' t get enough and wanted to punish her for it.
    Why so much anger? What had she ever done to him?
    She hung in his arms, silent agony washing over her. She didn ' t want the kind of kiss he was giving her. She wanted a sweet, gentle kiss. Full of hunger, yes. But not anger. She didn ' t deserve his anger.
    She whimpered in the back of her throat, lodged her hands against his chest and began pushing. His hands tightened on her and she thought for a moment he wouldn ' t release her. But then his mouth broke from hers and they stood together, sucking in oxygen and staring at each other like combatants in a fight for survival.
    Her eyes narrowed and she threw him a heated, accusatory look.
    He remained silent and she gave him a taste of his own medicine. " Okay. Now I know. You ' re right. It wouldn ' t work. I want you to leave me alone. You ' re a rude, messed-up, egotistical bastard. Leave me the fuck alone. " Rancor sharpened her voice.
    " Just because it didn ' t go the way you wanted --" A flare of temper mixed with arousal seethed through him.
    " Leave me the fuck alone, Gibson , " she shouted in his face and pulled away from him.
    His hands lifted from her and she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, trying to wipe away his punishing kiss, trying to convey to him the depth of her feelings. " Douche. " She said it under her breath, turned away and began walking off.
    He grabbed her hand and attempted to what? Apologize? " Julie --"
    She interrupted him by jerking on her hand and screaming, " Go away. "
    He lifted his hand from her and let her loose. She gave him one last look and then fled back to the crowd and the music.
    ****
    An hour and a half later, Gibson was fuming on a barstool, his second beer