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slid across her clit before sucking the sensitive nub inside all that hot, wet moisture. Tingling heat suffused her body and, heart tripping, her breath escaped in short staccato bursts. Then she tensed.
    On the verge of learning the truth behind the sexual hype, not knowing what to expect―Joel pulled away.
    Bewildered, she looked at him, and for several seconds, he stared back with an indecipherable expression. “Wh-what’s wrong?”
    “How badly do you want it?”
    She relaxed, assuming his question was part of his lovemaking technique, even though he’d chosen the wrong moment to express himself. Smiling, she said, “Very much.” His face distorted with distaste, he remained silent, and she realized he hadn’t been teasing. Stomach knotting, her earlier confusion vanished, nudged aside by mounting irritation.
    “What do you mean, how badly do I want it? I thought our needs were the same. Clearly, I’m wrong.” He continued to regard her in silence, a malicious smile transforming his features.
    In her current vulnerable position, she had that same feeling of foreboding she’d felt the night they met, and continued to ignore, damn it. Would she never learn to accept the psychic mumbo jumbo the family insisted she had? More often than not, it was right, but it didn’t come with any special powers, so big damn deal.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” She kept her voice calm, trying not to provoke him, while attempting to keep a leash on her temper.
    As quick as he’d let her go, he gathered her into his arms, stroking her neck and shoulders, a soothing gesture, but it didn’t work. She had the distinct impression he was playing some kind of game, but what...why. Was that how he got his rocks off?
    Reclaiming her mouth with vengeance, his hands moved persistently over her body, working her, attempting to recapture the fervor. Uh-uh, he’d made her uneasy. She resisted his efforts, struggling to remain aloof, fighting the feelings, but the conflict became unbearable, and she lost the battle.
    He moved between her legs, reached toward the nightstand, retrieved a foil-wrapped condom, and ripped it open. Gaze riveted on her face, he rolled the condom over his erection. Expecting discomfort, she tensed, holding his gaze as he started to ease inside her. His easy smile reassured her and she relaxed her rigid posture—a scream erupted from her throat.
    He’d brutally ripped into her with a total disregard for her virginity. She bucked, trying to throw him off, but he pressed down on her, refusing to move away. Stunned, vision blurred by tears, she saw a vicious, taunting smile alter the contours of his mouth. Realization dawned. No easing in, no pausing to allow her to adjust, suggested deliberate intent to cause serious pain or injury.
    “Not untouchable now, huh?” he mocked.
    Said so casually and unemotionally, suspicion confirmed. Adrenaline-fueled anger fast-tracked its way through her veins, pain forgotten. Teeth clenched, she demanded, “Get the hell off me, you son of a bitch.” Fear was never a definitive word in her vocabulary, not likely this asswipe intimidated her.
    He didn’t budge, but his demeanor changed and that disturbed her more than his viciousness. With an expression of remorse, he pleaded, “Marissa, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d never hurt you intentionally.”
    “Get. Off.”
    “Marissa...”
    “No, don’t go there. You did that on purpose. Move,” she retorted, pushing against his chest.
    “Baby, listen. That wasn’t my aim, I’ve been frustrated...don’t be angry.”
    What a fool. Believing she loved the jerk, she let him cajole her, and subsequently fell for his line of crap. Besides, positioned as they were, he had control, and the pain had subsided.
    He recaptured her mouth, tongues clashed, all over spit exchange, and he started moving inside her with slow determined thrusts. Pissed as she’d been, she responded, countering his moves,