The Summer He Came Home (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 1)

She opened her right eye, and her heart sank. It didn’t just sink, it fell into her gut, and a wave of nausea followed suit. Oh God. The screen was plastered with photos of Cain, yet one line glowed neon green. It flashed over and over and over: “Naked shots of Cain Black, click here NOW!”

Frantically she searched for the power button, but it was too late. He was there, beside her, his tall body bent forward, his eyes seeing what she saw.

“I…” She shook her head and wanted to die. If the floor had opened up and sucked her into the bowels of hell, she’d have been happy.

He moved closer still, so close she felt the heat of him against her clammy skin. Her insides were on fire, yet her teeth chattered crazily from the cold that racked her frame.

Or it could have been the abject humiliation that riffled through her body with all the subtlety of a steam engine that left her shaky.

“Here, let me.” She inched aside, hung her head, and glanced away. “It’s my old computer, and the damn thing freezes all the time.”

No shit.

“Best thing to do is a reboot.”

Cain cut the power and turned to her, his eyes glittering pools of liquid ebony. He leaned against the edge of the desk, legs spread, and Maggie blushed, realizing she stood between them. She moved, wanting to step back, but his arm shot out, and his hand—those long, warm fingers—closed along her forearm.

“Don’t.”

With that one word, underlined by a huskiness that tugged at her insides, Maggie froze. All sorts of feelings rushed through her, physical and emotional. Hot and cold. Fear and anticipation. Crazy and even crazier thoughts twirled through her mind. Images of tongues and skin and heat and those damn eyes.

An ache formed in her gut and spread, infiltrating every single cell in her body until she trembled.

She stared at him in silence, but he was too intense, and she lowered her eyes, watched the beat of his pulse at the base of his neck instead. It seemed safer somehow.

The air was thick like molasses. It had to be—she couldn’t breathe.

“What do you want to know, Maggie?” His voice was like butter, thick and silky at the same time. She shuddered as his fingers slid along her arm to pull her in closer.

Danger lurked in the air, encircling her in a mad embrace she couldn’t escape. Maybe she didn’t want to. But that would be crazy, wouldn’t it?

They were inches apart, and she inhaled the rich aroma that was all him. Wrong thing to do. It was incredibly male, tangy, full of spice, and it got her head spinning the way one too many glasses of wine did.

“Ask me anything,” he challenged. “I have nothing to hide.”

Her mouth was so dry, Maggie didn’t know if she could speak. She cleared her throat, very much aware of the fingers that caressed the delicate area between her palm and her wrist. Each time his forefinger rubbed there, a little piece of her liquefied, melted, and burned. She felt she should push away and get as far from Cain Black as she could.

What was she doing? This road she was on was dangerous, she knew this, but Maggie felt unable to get off.

“I don’t…” She shook her head, not knowing what to say. On one hand, she was mortified that he’d found her online, ogling pictures of him like a freaking teenager. On the other, his abrupt dismissal the other night stung more than she wanted to admit.

Then there was Michael.

She was confused and felt impotent with her inability to act. She’d kept her feelings locked away for so long now that it was foreign, this deluge of emotion. She was afraid to follow her wants and needs. Those kinds of things led to a dark place.

Her head shot up as a sliver of clarity cut through the fog. “What do you want?”

Cain remained silent, but something changed. She felt it. His pulse was faster, and his breaths fell in shorter, quicker spurts. Danger solidified and wrapped itself around her tight as she struggled to make sense of her emotions and get words out of her mouth.

“You said I could ask you anything,” she started in a rush. “Why are you…?” She shook her head, felt the burn in her stomach surge as a wave of anger thrust through her. “Why are you doing this?”

“This?” he asked silkily, dangerously. His gaze swept along her arm from where his hand held her still and up to her chest, where he lingered a little too long. She felt her nipples harden, felt them strain against the tight confines of her T-shirt. A shive

r rolled over her body, and she exhaled shakily as he slowly lifted his eyes and looked directly into hers.

He moved again and tugged on her gently until she was against him, tight between his legs with her hands upon his chest.

At that moment Maggie was aware of many things. The length of his lashes as he stared down at her. The golden flecks that shimmered behind the dark brown of his eyes. The accelerated beat of his heart beneath her fingers.