Chapter 2

What? The anger was slowly gathering inside her chest like a storm, and she desperately wanted to punch him. Slap him. Anything.

He must have sensed her anger because she knew very well how she was glaring at her too much. It felt as if she wanted to shoot daggers at his forehead. But that didn't stop him from walking towards her.

He neared and stood in front of her, towering above her small figure. It wasn't a surprise that she was too small for his height, so she came face to face with his bare chest.

Right then, she remembered last night. How he hugged her and tried to calm her down. How she felt his breathing underneath his palms and heard his fast beating heart underneath her ear. Despite everything, she was glad he came to save her.

"Look at me," he ordered, lifting her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. Even then, she kept her glare, but he didn't budge. He matched her own stare and placed his hands past her sides and on the table, as if to intimidate her and lock her.

"You're wearing my shirt, baby doll," he murmured, emphasizing his words by snaking his hands underneath the shirt she was wearing and touching her sensitive skin.

She shivered, and she knew he felt it, because a smirk came up on his face and he said, "I want it back."

"Don't touch me," she hissed as he played with the waistband of her underwear. His eyes sparkled like he was enjoying her anger so much.

He leaned down and looked deeply into her eyes. He was challenging her. His eyes lowered to her lips as he slowly descended. She could feel his warm breath fanning her face and, god, he smelled so good.

Was he going to kiss her?

The thought itself by every second was highly appealing. Every common sense she had in her brain was fading away. He smelled so wonderfully, but he was too close for comfort, and she couldn't take it anymore.

Just before he could lower his lips an inch to meet hers, she pushed him away. Hard. With all the strength she could muster.

He didn't stumble back too much, but it was enough to give some space to breathe and run away from him. She didn't even know where she was heading to, but before she could think about it, large hands enveloped her waist and her back slammed against a rock hard body.

God, he's fast!

He growled and pressed her against the table beside her so that he was locked between him and the table. Wait, did she just hear him growl?

It couldn't be possible.

Last night, she could have sworn she heard him growling too, and she heard him growl today. Was he a dog or something? She must be dreaming.

"Don't run away from me," he said roughly, and she felt everything underneath her shaking.

"Or what?" she retorted through gritted teeth.

Was he insane? He couldn't just order her around. She was a human too and she had dignity.

"I'll take you on this table," he warned, and to punctuate his warning, he pressed himself firmly against her backside, and she felt his little friend hardening against her.

She froze. Was he going to force himself on her? The thought of her and this beast doing it together in this position made her want to claw her eyes out. She just couldn't picture it. It was disgusting. She had goosebumps just thinking about it.

He sensed it, she knew. He could smell her head, and perhaps he liked it because he kissed her bare shoulder, which was shown by the large black shirt she was wearing, which was his.

She shivered when she felt his lips lingering on her skin, and she felt it all the way down her spine. Butterflies erupted in her stomach. No one had ever kissed her there before.

He continued kissing her shoulder and brushed his lips up the bare side of her neck. It was a wonder why her hair seemed to be out of his way, as if her body actually wanted this.

His lips were soft and warm. It was definitely against his physique. His lips ran along the end of her jaw and he slightly bit her earlobe. She had no idea what he was doing, but it felt weird and strangely.. pleasurable.

Gosh, what was she thinking?

She didn't even realize that she was already closing her eyes and tilting her head a little as if offering him more access. His hands went underneath the shirt she was wearing, and his fingers brushed against her underwear, rounding her hips and touching her stomach.

She clenched her fists. "Stop," she rasped. Even she didn't recognize her own voice.

Grunting, he turned her around and quickly grabbed her, easily throwing her over his shoulder. She met his bare back. He had a very muscular back, she noticed. And since he was walking towards god knows where, his tattoo and defined muscles rippled in every movement.

"Put me down!" she demanded, reddening in anger. He just threw her over his shoulder, and she knew her butt was hanging over in display!

This was so embarrassing. She'd never been one to be too comfortable in her own body. Finally, he put her down and placed her on a stool behind a table. A pretty girl walked in and placed a plate of lasagna in front of her.

She noticed how she didn't look up at her nor at him. She kept her head lowered and her eyes out of view beneath her thick bangs until she walked out of the kitchen without a single word.

A hand slamming on the table brought her out of her gaze. She looked up.

"Eat," he commanded, and his voice left no space for discussion.

Her eyebrows knitted together, and her hands clenched on her lap. "I'm not a child," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Then stop acting like one," he retorted.

"And stop acting like you're my father."

"You're being difficult. Just eat the damn food."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not hungry," she said stubbornly.

His nostrils flared, and she could almost imagine his ears smoking.

"Eat or you won't like what I'll do to you on this table," he warned darkly, his eyes dilating.