“I’ve got a better idea,” he rasped into my mouth.  As he spoke, he closed his eyes, dropped his head back, and rocked his hips in and out, fucking me hard, bouncing me on his lap with firm hands and bucking hips.

Perverse as it was, his words, what they might have implied, combined with the way he was working me, had me coming in a flash, gripping around him, wondering what the hell was wrong with me even as I clenched on his thick length and got off.

I was still catching my breath when he pulled me off his dick, setting me down on the ground.  On my knees.

He hadn’t finished.

He gripped my hair in both hands and dragged my face to his lap.  He was still hard and throbbing.  His engorged cock was slick and close enough to lick.  When his tip touched me lips, I couldn’t seem to help myself.  I opened up and started sucking him off like I’d been starving for it.

He didn’t last long like that.

He rasped out my name as his seed burned down my throat.

I was still licking his twitching length clean when he spoke.

“I know he spent the night.”

I moved away from him like he’d just caught fire.

My robe had been opened, but not removed, and I closed it and retied the belt with shaking hands.

For once it was my turn to pace.  I didn’t look at him for a long time, and when I finally did, I wished I hadn’t.

He was still sitting, his thick, spent length hanging crudely out of his pants, but I don’t even think he noticed it.

His arms were folded across his chest, and he was staring at me in a way I couldn’t stand.

He looked wounded and vengeful all at once.

It was several pounding heartbeats later that I found my voice.  And my indignation.  “And just how do you know that?  Did your spy girlfriend tell you that?”

He went still as stone.  “What are you talking about?”

My lip curled.  I could feel this getting ugly.  “You know.”

Something happened to his face, something scary.

He stood, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping them up, his eyes never leaving me.

A ruthlessness I’d never seen before had overtaken his expression.  “I don’t know,” he bit out.  “Explain it to me.”

“That woman you have spying on me.  She told you, didn’t she?”

His whole face clenched up, and I knew something bad was happening.

He’d gone so still, but something volatile was writhing in agony under the surface of that stillness.

“How do you know about the woman spying on you?” he asked me.

I wanted to curse at him in five languages for the question, but I managed to answer civilly enough.  At least he knew now that I was aware of her.  It was something I’d needed to address, needed to have out in the open.  “She came to see me.  Didn’t you know?”

His face didn’t so much as twitch, but his shoulders started shaking.

He looked like he was about to snap, to lose it completely.

I was afraid of him, that’s how much he was losing his ever-present composure.

I’d always known he was dangerous.  But my instincts, which I’d trusted before Heath, had always told me that, while he was dangerous, he was not at all dangerous to me.

I did not feel that way now.

Something dark and vile had overtaken him.  He’d barely moved, but I still knew, deep in my gut, that he was incensed to a degree that I’d never seen before.

To the point of violence.

I was shaking.  This was not Heath and his usual combination of mean and magnificent.  This was not Heath angry = Me turned on.

This was something unmanageable.  I knew it.

“She contacted you directly?” His face was fraudulently collected, but his voice hid nothing.  He sounded murderous.

“She came to my house.  She had all kinds of interesting things she wanted to tell me about you.”

I couldn’t speak of her without revealing my feelings, though I tried to hide it.

My jealousy was very thinly veiled, but as I studied him I realized that that didn’t matter.  He’d never notice it, because he simply wasn’t looking for it.

He was much too wrapped up in his own volatile emotions then to notice mine.

“She came here?  To your house?”

I didn’t answer, didn’t bother to repeat myself, just staring at him.

He cursed, fluently and savagely.  “Did she lay a hand on you?  Hurt you?”

I couldn’t manage an answer for several pounding heartbeats, because the way he asked it made me realize something.

This fury, this unadulterated rage he was going through was not directed at me.

It was for her.  I was both relieved and as baffled as ever.

“No,” I finally got out.

That seemed to take some of the steam out of him, which was good.  I could breathe again when he didn’t look so close to the brink.

“She just came here . . . to talk?” he finally managed to get out.

“Yes.  She told me everything, Heath.  I know everything.”

His brows drew together menacingly.  “She told you everything?  I don’t fucking think so.  She doesn’t know everything, and I’ve worked with her for a long time, so I can guess what she did tell you.  A convincing combination of lies and truth.  But I see it got to you.”

“Are you saying you’ve never lied to me?”