Страница 107 из 349
“I was good until you woke me,” he growls. “I haven’t had a lick of sleep.”
There’s a pause. A rustle of sheets.
“Have you found any leads?” He sighs. “There’s gotta be something. Who owned the car?”
I tilt my head, needing to hear every roughly mumbled word.
“Well, if it was stolen, who did they steal it from?” He huffs. “I need to get my ass back home to help you guys look. I can’t do dick here when I don’t have a computer.”
My heart clenches. He wants to leave?
“She’s good. Taking everything in stride.”
My pulse increases at the change in topic, and I guess it’s also from the softness in his voice when he talks about me. I want to understand him. I need to. Even more so now that he’s pushing to go home.
“No. I slept on the sofa, asshole. I didn’t go anywhere near her rocket pocket.”
I press my lips tight and struggle not to laugh.
“Torian doesn’t need to worry,” he continues. “I’ll protect her. As long as there’s air in my lungs, Keira will be safe.”
My laughter fades. Evaporates. I stare at the wall opposite me, trying not to become overwhelmed by his adamant conviction.
He’s vowed to protect me.
He’s vowed, even if his own life ends in the process.
Why?
The conversation continues, turning into snide banter as I become lost in the darkened forest of my thoughts.
I can’t remember ever hearing someone speak about me like Sebastian just did. Yes, my brother values my safety. He demands it. But my protection in the eyes of my family is more of a strategy.
If we all stay safe, we all stay strong.
Not even my father has spoken about protecting me the way Sebastian has—As long as there’s air in my lungs.
My chest tightens.
Again, why? I don’t know if I should be comforted or concerned.
There’s another rustle of sheets and the squeak of the bed frame. I panic, unsure if he’s about to catch me spying.
I push from the wall and enter the doorway with a forced smile, but my expression doesn’t matter. He doesn’t turn to me. He sits on the edge of the mattress, hunched over, his head in his free hand, his bare feet on the carpet.
“She’s here now. Do I need to pass on any messages?”
He tilts his head, meeting my gaze. His demeanor doesn’t change. He barely acknowledges my presence. He still looks weary. Entirely drained. The lines of exhaustion in his features beg to be touched. Gently softened with the glide of a finger.
My palms tingle. My pulse increases as I move closer.
“Fuck off, Hunt.” He lowers his focus to the floor, his tone still holding the lingering gravel of sleep. “I told you, I’m treating her like a queen. Unlike you, I know how to look after a woman.”
He doesn’t shift as I approach. There’s not even a ripple of muscle. And there are so many muscles—back, arms, stomach, and God, his legs.
I bite my lower lip and wonder what it would be like to sink my teeth into him instead.
“Tell him I look forward to speaking to him,” he drawls. “Call me if anything changes.”
He lowers the cell, presses a button, then throws the device to the pillows before lifting his chin to look at me.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
“Hey.”
I itch to touch him.
“How’s Hunter?”
He huffs out a tired breath. “A
“Okay.” I keep my emotions in check. Every single one of them. “Is he any closer to finding out who was responsible?”
“No, not yet.”
I nod, becoming endeared by the lazy softness of him. With the raise of a hand, I could run my fingers through his hair. I could feel the heat of his skin. He’s there. Right there in front of me.
He frowns. “What’s going on, sweetness?”
I shrug and pretend those endearments don’t hit me hard between the thighs. “You still look tired.”
“It’ll take a few minutes for me to wake up.”
I want to be the one to wake him. I want him to trust me enough to remain tired and lethargic, too. It’s a strange feeling, and I’m not sure if it’s due to strategy or emotion, but it’s there nonetheless, the delicious thrill curling its way around my belly.
I reach out, unable to hold back any longer, and run my fingers through the dark strands of his hair. It’s my first deliberate touch. The co
“Keira…” My name is a warning that brings a delicious thrill.
“Mmm?” I scrape my nails over his scalp.
He groans, the deep sound vibrating from his chest. “You’re going to send me straight back to sleep if you keep doing that.”
“Really?” I cock a brow. “That wasn’t my intent.”
His eyes narrow, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to call me out on my flirtation. Going down this road isn’t a good idea. Not for either of us.
“What is your intent?” His gaze is sharp, reading me, trying to figure out what’s going on in this messed up brain of mine.
“I don’t know.” I’m stuck between wants, needs, and responsibility. Morality, necessity, and danger. “But I should stop, shouldn’t I?”
“Yeah.” He leans his head into my touch. Not backing away. Not retreating.
I literally have him in the palm of my hand.
Power bleeds through me, coursing from the inside out. I tingle. Everywhere. My stomach flutters with the strength of a thousand butterflies. My skin burns.
“And what if I don’t?” I ask. “What happens then?”
His nostrils flare, his hands tensing as they lay against the bed covers. “I think we’re both well aware of what happens then, cupcake.”