Illusions

"Don't you dare do that, Cassidy!" Sagan roared.
She froze. "Do what?"
"Look at me as though you're scared to death I'm going to throw you on the floor and ravish your body. Don't you dare be frightened of me." He flung open the door. "Not ever."
Cassidy stomped past him into the house and turned on the lights. "Why don't you yell a little, Sagan? Go ahead, shout all you want."
"I'm not yelling," he yelled.

"Oh, do whatever you do want. I don't care diddly-squat what you do."
He began laughing. "Diddly-squat? No one says that."
"It's on par with 'ravish your body,'" she said, poking him in the chest. "Just too corny for words."
"Okay, no more words," Sagan said quietly, and reached for her. Cassidy took a small step back, then stopped. He wrapped her in his arms and with his lips silenced her protests—and the sweet ache inside her. . .