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deny him again rose inside him.

“Hell, I can’t get enough of you.” He reached for her, and she backed away.

Sheila had never backed away from him before. What the hell was wrong with her?

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Sheila?”

Her chin lifted, and that little glimmer of feminine fire shifted from arousal to pure feminine determination.

Ah, hell. This wasn’t a good thing. This meant he’d obviously done something completely male—and managed to either hurt her or piss her off.

He was in trouble now, and Casey damned well knew it.

“Nothing’s going on, Casey.” Her lips thinned and her eyes seemed to darken with the lie. Casey always knew when she was lying. And she only lied to him, according to her, when he should be able to answer his questions himself.

He’d never seen denial in her eyes when it came to him, though. At the moment, there was pure rejection gleaming there.

“Don’t give me that shit,” he growled. “We’ve never played games with each other. Not like this. I don’t want to start now. I won’t let you start now.”

“I was never the one playing games.”

Casey’s eyes narrowed. Every man in the world knew that tone of voice.

Those violet eyes flashed again with the edge of anger, and Casey knew he was screwed.

“What the hell did I do?” Pushing his fingers through his hair, he wished the damned hard-on would abate just a little bit. It was hard as hell to be demanding when all he wanted to do was fuck the temperamental little minx.

She delighted in making him crazy, he decided. And she could make him crazy as hell faster than anyone he’d ever known.

“You didn’t do anything.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug that warned him he sure as hell had done something. And he better find “her” way, to fix it fast.

See, this was what drove him crazy. It made him want to pull his own hair out because he couldn’t figure out what the hell he had done. She was obviously expecting him to know this time what he had or hadn’t done. Whichever, he probably had only moments to fix it before she walked out that door.

“Look, just tell me what your problem is, and I’ll fix it.” He glared back at her as he crossed his arms over his chest, certain his erection would deflate any second. Surely his dick would get a clue and just give it up.

It would have with any other woman giving him this kind of grief. Hell, it had never failed to deflate permanently with any other woman who dared to pull this shit on him.

Especially when he didn’t know what he’d done to piss his soon to be ex-lover off. So why the hell hadn’t it deflated yet? Why was he still standing there like a boob trying to figure out how to get her back in his bed?

“Didn’t I do something right?” he demanded when that slender little hip cocked to the side and delicate fingers curved over it. The index finger tapped against her jeans silently. He’d only seen her do that a few times, and never with him. Until now.

Yep, he was in trouble. He just wished he knew why. How. Or what to do to fix it.

“You’ll fix it, will you?” she asked silkily as her thick lashes fluttered over her mocking gaze. “Why, Casey, I just can’t tell you how your offer makes my little heart beat faster.”

Uh huh. He could tell. He really could. She was so damned sarcastic he almost winced.

He quickly ran through the night once again, just to be certain. Just to assure himself he hadn’t done anything blatantly stupid. Because he really wasn’t a stupid man where woman were concerned.

Had he gotten her a drink when she showed up at the bar?

Check.

He’d bought them all drinks and sent her a plate of the seasoned fries she liked as well. She and her friends sat in the corner booth and had a nice little visit. He had made certain they had everything they needed. And he’d paid for it all himself.

He’d kissed her before he got her in the car?

Check.

Fuck, he’d been so hungry for her he hadn’t been able to keep from kissing her like he was dying for her.

He’d been romantic about it?

Hell yes.

He loved the feel of her hair, so he’d slid his hand into it, along the side of her face in the way he knew she liked. He knew, because it always made her eyes a little darker, and her face flush with feminine need. And he’d started that kiss slow and easy while he’d held her on the dance floor.

Once he’d gotten her to his apartment had he offered her another drink? Check there too.

He’d even offered her a snack or a meal.

He’d turned on the music, danced with her again, easing her slowly into the deepest flames of the arousal that began to burn inside them. Just because he loved the feel of her against him. Loved the way she rubbed against him.

“Look, Casey, I just want to go home,” she informed him as she stepped to the door and gripped the knob. This time, he didn’t try to stop her. He wasn’t going to beg her. They weren’t kids. They were supposed to be adults. Adults didn’t play teenage games like this. At least, they shouldn’t.

“Fine, when you feel in the mood to tell me what’s wrong with you, then you know where to find me.”

“Of course I do.” He almost winced at the sound of her voice and the mockery that filled it. “Every night.”

“Pretty much,” he agreed with a tight nod. “I’ve never been hard to find. Made sure of it where you were concerned.”

That only seemed to

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