Rage (Benson Security 3)

“Not the house. The way you took that guy apart. I’ve never seen anything like it. All that power and precision. It was amazing.” The last word came out on a sigh that made Callum stumble.

“Your body is amazing,” she continued. “The way your muscles move when you fight. All that strength.” Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip, and Callum stifled a groan. “I haven’t even seen you without a shirt yet.”

That was it. He’d had enough. “Stop talking and run.”

“You practice that martial arts stuff, don’t you? Do you do it shirtless? Can I watch?”

He did groan this time. “You’re having a reaction to the adrenalin. You needed it to help save your life. Now it’s looking for an outlet. Ignore it. It will pass.”

“Maybe it would pass faster if we both got naked and spent five minutes working it off? We can spare five minutes, right? I mean, the kids are safe. Right?”

“Woman, I’m beginning to think your default setting is recklessly horny.”

“It’s my curse,” Isobel agreed. “But it seems to be worse when I’m around you.”

“Stop.” Callum’s jeans were getting tight and it was becoming hard to run. “Don’t say another word.”

He glared at her to get the message home, and she smiled sweetly. At least she stopped talking.

Callum led her through his house to a door at the back of the kitchen that she’d assumed led to a pantry. It didn’t. It hid a set of stairs that led under the house.

“Oh, is this your granddad’s famous bunker?” There weren’t many houses in the area that had basements, and the McKay one was particularly well known, because old man McKay had spent years fighting with the council over it. He’d needed planning permission to turn it into a bomb shelter, or something like that. The place had become an urban myth around Arness, with everyone wondering what exactly lay under the old man’s house.

Isobel felt jittery. She was aware that she was fidgeting a lot, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Every inch of her skin felt hypersensitive. Her blood seemed to fizzle in her veins. There was too much energy in her body. She felt as if she’d explode if she didn’t get rid of it. And the only way she wanted to do that was with the man at her side. He was driving her crazy. The scent of him, so masculine and musky. The way his body moved. The ripple of his muscles. She wanted to feel the rough rasp of his stubble against her skin. She wanted to bite into those strong muscles. She wanted to feel him moving inside her until she couldn’t think from needing him.

“Will you stop it?” he growled as he stalked down the stairs in front of her. He hadn’t even looked around. He couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking. And she didn’t care if he did anyway. Her mind was on other things. Mainly the way his butter-soft jeans cupped his firm backside. Damn it, her mouth was actually watering.

Callum spun to face her, and Isobel walked right into him. Because she was on the step above him, she could almost look him straight in the eyes. She licked her lips. If she didn’t taste him soon, she was going to go insane.

“Woman. Your kids are through the door at the bottom of the stairs. They need comfort. Even I can figure that out. You need to focus and stop thinking about sex.”

Oh my goodness, that rumbling voice set off mini-orgasms. She closed her eyes and moaned.

“Hell,” Callum muttered. “You’re killing me.”

She couldn’t think. Her brain was hazy. She rocked towards him, breathing him deep. Callum clenched his jaw and let out a stream of curses.

“Just one little taste,” Isobel whispered.

She saw the hesitation and then the angry resolve. “One of us has to be sensible. I can’t believe it’s me.”

He spun on his heels and strode down the rest of the steps, leaving Isobel feeling somewhat desperate. She blinked several times and tried to clear her mind. He was right. She needed to focus. She could do this. She could.

Callum pressed a code into the keypad on a box beside the door. There was a click, and he tugged the door open. The very thick, reinforced door. Once through the doorway, Isobel was confronted with a long and narrow living area, with four doors equally spaced on the left-hand side of the room and another door on the far wall. The walls were painted white and the floors were wood. The lighting was soft and almost made her forget that she was in a basement.

They were standing in a compact kitchen, which flowed into a dining area. There was a seating area at the far end of the room, complete with large leather sofa and a massive TV. Jack had been sitting watching TV, and must have jumped up when the door opened. While Callum started rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, Isobel rushed to her son and wrapped him in a tight hug, whether he liked it or not.

“Are you okay? Where’s Sophie?” She ran her hands over his shoulders and arms, searching for injuries.

“I’m good. Sophie’s in bed.” He cocked his head towards one of the doors on the left-hand wall.

When Isobel opened it, she found a small bedroom. It had a freestanding closet, a dresser, a chair and a set of bunk beds. Sophie was out cold on the top bunk. Isobel stroked her daughter’s hair before closing the door quietly behind her. She turned to find Callum going through the largest medical kit she’d ever seen.

“Why do you need all that gear?” she said. “Is it in case you get stuck in here during a nuclear winter?”

Callum looked at her like she was nuts, before turning to Jack. “I need you to call your aunts. Tell them you’re all fine and that you’re here. But ask them not to rush over. I want them to spread the word that your mum took you two away for a few days and you weren’t in the house when it blew.”

“The house blew up?” Jack’s jaw fell.