s back tight with rage. He stalked down the dim hallway of the

o hard it slammed against

om his neck and threw it onto the sofa. He was about

t-shirt. Her hair was damp around the edges, and her eye

g. Her hands immediately flew to her stomach, her finge

in three long strides, backing her up until her hips hit th

ing her in. He leaned down, his face inches from he

demanded, his voice a low, vibrating threa

st her ribs. His physical presence was overwhelming. "I... I ran

ed his hand, his long fingers wrapping around h

friends?" he sneered. "Then maybe I shou

words, Jameson dipped his head a

unishment. It was hard, dema

cedar and aggressive, dark pheromones inv

ough the thin cotton of her t-shirt. His grip tightened, pulling her flush against

Not with desire, but with a

e back of her throat. The morning sickness, triggered by the su

olid chest, pushing him with all her m

eyes flashing with shock and immediate

heave racking her small frame. She pushed past h

bathroom door

retching echoed through the thin walls,

s veins turned to ice. His face went pale, and then

e sheer panic in her eyes, the way she h

seething, irrational rage. He had come here to break her, to torture her for what she had done, so why did he care about the murderer's reacti

wood with the side of his fist. "Don't play games with

r into her mouth, tears of physical exertion leaking from her eyes. She grip

d the plastic trash can in the hal

t onto the sofa. He lay down in his clothes, staring at the cracked ceiling in the dar