Read Online Danger That Is Damion by Lisa Renee Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Renee Jones
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killed my family. You killed my family.”
“Whoa,” Damion said, his hands going to her arms. “I promise you, Lara. I… We didn’t kill your family. We—”
The word was lost in the blast of her fast movement. With all her GTECH strength, she shoved him away, and he hit the floor with a hard thud. On some distant level, he registered that such strength was impossible during a bout of the healing illness. No, this was not the healing illness at all. Whatever was going on with Lara was not that.
She came down on top of him, naked, wet, and ready to kill. She was wild, angry, driven by the pain of loss, her emotion swelling inside the small room.
She shoved to a sitting position, straddling him, naked and fiercely beautiful, her high, full breasts thrusting forward—a scene that might have been erotic, would have been erotic, if she wasn’t, once again, trying to bust his chops.
Damion shackled her wrists and pulled her back down, her perky little nipples pressed to his chest. “Jeezus, woman, what is it with you and violence?”
She jerked against him, trying to sit up, but he held her firmly, the tug-of-war ending with them so close, he could almost feel her lips touch his. Instant electricity crackled in the air, their breath mingling. “Let me up,” she hissed softly.
“Not until you promise you won’t attack me again.”
“I will not be captive to a Renegade one second longer. You killed—”
“I didn’t,” he said, emotion welling inside him, memories of his mother and older brother screaming the same accusation at him in a hospital waiting room. “I didn’t kill your family, and neither did any of the Renegades. But I know how losing someone you love feels. I know how much you need someone to blame.”
God, he remembered his mother losing it, throwing fists at him until finally his brother had pulled her off of him, only to have his brother begin beating on Damion himself. He’d taken it all because he’d created their pain, because he deserved their anger, and because he wished he was the one with a sheet over his head.
“And you know what…” he said, sitting up with her, but leaving her on top, straddling him, the V of her body pressed to the thick pulse of his cock. He wanted her, wanted to slide his pants down and slip inside her, let her ride away her frustration. But she hated him, and she’d hate him even more if he let that happen.
So he offered her another kind of release, one he understood, one his family had needed, and he’d given them as well. “I’m good at taking the blame. If you really need to hit me, Lara, hit me.” He released her hands and settled his on the floor behind him. “If that’ll give you some sense of justice, then so be it. Hell—if killing me would give you some sort of peace, I’d give you my gun.”
All the anger slid from her face, replaced by stunned disbelief that lasted—maybe fifteen seconds—before anger flared hotter than ever. “Damn you!” she said, flattening her hands on his chest and leaning into him. “Stop messing with my head. Stop manipulating me and playing with my emotions. I should hit you. I should take you up on that gun and kill you.”
“Gun’s in my right pant leg,” he said, going out on a ledge, and he wasn’t sure why. He needed to trust this woman—already did on some gut level that defied all reason. Or maybe she just opened an old wound attached to a death wish. “Either take it and shoot me, or stop threatening to do it, so we can move on to more productive things. Like putting clothes on you before you drive me out of my flipping mind.”
She all but growled at him, her fingers curling in his shirt. “Damn you, GTECH—”
“ Damion ,” he ground out, his hand sliding into her hair, tension rippling through his body. He was angry now too, angry and hard, and more sexually frustrated than he’d been in his entire life. “If you’re going to curse me, hit me, threaten to kill me, while
“Whoa,” Damion said, his hands going to her arms. “I promise you, Lara. I… We didn’t kill your family. We—”
The word was lost in the blast of her fast movement. With all her GTECH strength, she shoved him away, and he hit the floor with a hard thud. On some distant level, he registered that such strength was impossible during a bout of the healing illness. No, this was not the healing illness at all. Whatever was going on with Lara was not that.
She came down on top of him, naked, wet, and ready to kill. She was wild, angry, driven by the pain of loss, her emotion swelling inside the small room.
She shoved to a sitting position, straddling him, naked and fiercely beautiful, her high, full breasts thrusting forward—a scene that might have been erotic, would have been erotic, if she wasn’t, once again, trying to bust his chops.
Damion shackled her wrists and pulled her back down, her perky little nipples pressed to his chest. “Jeezus, woman, what is it with you and violence?”
She jerked against him, trying to sit up, but he held her firmly, the tug-of-war ending with them so close, he could almost feel her lips touch his. Instant electricity crackled in the air, their breath mingling. “Let me up,” she hissed softly.
“Not until you promise you won’t attack me again.”
“I will not be captive to a Renegade one second longer. You killed—”
“I didn’t,” he said, emotion welling inside him, memories of his mother and older brother screaming the same accusation at him in a hospital waiting room. “I didn’t kill your family, and neither did any of the Renegades. But I know how losing someone you love feels. I know how much you need someone to blame.”
God, he remembered his mother losing it, throwing fists at him until finally his brother had pulled her off of him, only to have his brother begin beating on Damion himself. He’d taken it all because he’d created their pain, because he deserved their anger, and because he wished he was the one with a sheet over his head.
“And you know what…” he said, sitting up with her, but leaving her on top, straddling him, the V of her body pressed to the thick pulse of his cock. He wanted her, wanted to slide his pants down and slip inside her, let her ride away her frustration. But she hated him, and she’d hate him even more if he let that happen.
So he offered her another kind of release, one he understood, one his family had needed, and he’d given them as well. “I’m good at taking the blame. If you really need to hit me, Lara, hit me.” He released her hands and settled his on the floor behind him. “If that’ll give you some sense of justice, then so be it. Hell—if killing me would give you some sort of peace, I’d give you my gun.”
All the anger slid from her face, replaced by stunned disbelief that lasted—maybe fifteen seconds—before anger flared hotter than ever. “Damn you!” she said, flattening her hands on his chest and leaning into him. “Stop messing with my head. Stop manipulating me and playing with my emotions. I should hit you. I should take you up on that gun and kill you.”
“Gun’s in my right pant leg,” he said, going out on a ledge, and he wasn’t sure why. He needed to trust this woman—already did on some gut level that defied all reason. Or maybe she just opened an old wound attached to a death wish. “Either take it and shoot me, or stop threatening to do it, so we can move on to more productive things. Like putting clothes on you before you drive me out of my flipping mind.”
She all but growled at him, her fingers curling in his shirt. “Damn you, GTECH—”
“ Damion ,” he ground out, his hand sliding into her hair, tension rippling through his body. He was angry now too, angry and hard, and more sexually frustrated than he’d been in his entire life. “If you’re going to curse me, hit me, threaten to kill me, while
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