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cure in their masculinity, he likes to play macho man." |
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Rich ignored her taunt, swinging the gun back and forth as he motioned for her to get out of the bed. He kept a wary eye on Chris while he stared at her with a cold, purposeful gaze. "Now you, D.J. Get up." |
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The thought of getting out of the bed and standing stark naked before Rich made D.J. swallow hard to keep from gagging. But the way he stared at her convinced her he meant what he said. Would she rather be dead or embarrassed? D.J. moved to the edge of the bed. |
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She turned and looked at Chris with a frown. He didn't look her way but remained focused on Rich. The two men stared at each other like two wolves standing over a single kill in the dead of winter. |
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"Get up," Rich ordered. "I've seen it all before, McCall. I'm not interested anymore." |
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"I don't care. She's not getting out of the bed until she has her clothes on." |
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"I came here to kill you both. It would suit me fine to do the job now and get out of here." He cocked the gun. |
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"No!" D.J. jumped from the bed and ran across the room. With her back to the two men, she stuffed her body into her still damp shirt and jeans. She grabbed Chris's jeans and tossed them to him. |
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"I didn't say he could get dressed," Rich snapped. |
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"Be a sport and let the guy die with his pants on. It won't kill you." |
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Rich narrowed his eyes at her tone, then |
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