The conversation was over. Period. He’d lost any inclination to humor her. “You’re my guy,” she said, rising to her elbows, but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her leg so high that she was forced onto her back again.
He kissed her instep and put a knee on the bed between her thighs to crawl up between her legs. “Say it again.”
“You’re my guy,” she said. He came down on top of her and lifted her head to scoop her hair up and back to spread it on the bed above her.
“When I’m done with a conversation, we’re f*****g done with it.”
With a grip on her wrists, he stretched her arms high over her head as he descended to kiss her mouth, her jaw, her collarbone. The sting of suction made her gasp. Being with Brodie when he was in this kind of mood meant he’d be rough and possessive, which she lo
