Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle)

The man turned. He wore a dark coat, flipped up at the neck and a slouchy black hat pulled down low on his brow. He took off with her purse at a dead run.

I couldn’t focus on anything but Georgia.

I slid onto my knees and pulled her up. “Are you hurt?”

Her hands shook and her vivid brown eyes were huge, the pupils a pinpoint in fear. Her fingers curled into my suit jacket as she hiccupped and buried her face in my chest.

“Georgia.”

She shook her head, her entire body trembling.

“Please tell me he didn’t hurt you. Please,” I said hoarsely.

Her lips brushed against my neck, her cheek rubbing against my shoulder as her arms went around me. “Just don’t let me go. Just for a minute. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Did he hurt you?” I clenched my jaw. My fingers dug into her hip at an awkward angle. I was on my knees, crouching over her. Adrenaline blew out every one of my pores. I’d never been so close to her before. She was all softness and curves and smelled of tangerines. Her half-bared breast pressed into my chest.

For the love of fuck, I had to get myself together. It was just the response to the situation. I tried to tell my rigid cock that and lean back at the same time.

She was going to think I was some sort of pervert.

I swallowed. “Your dress is ripped.”

“No. No, he just wanted my purse. He tried to rip it off me and pulled on both straps. But his eyes.” Her hand shook. “He had such cold, dead eyes. I didn’t mean to react. I should have just let him have the purse. But-t-t it was all of my identification. All I could think is God, so much to cancel and take care of. S-s-o s-t-tupid.”

Her teeth chattered against my neck and I tried to concentrate on comfort, not that it was just my silk dress shirt between her breast and my skin.

I was a fucking bastard.

“It’s all right now. Easy.” I rubbed her back, feeling her silky warm skin then the back of her top, and then more skin at the dip of her spine until I got to the edge of her skirt. I kept up the gentle touch, stroking up and down. I concentrated on comfort, not how she felt under my hand.

Not the raging anger alive inside my chest that made me want to chase after the bastard who had scared her.

But common sense prevailed. Beating on a heavy bag was not the same as fighting a man. The bag didn’t hit back, but a thief would.

I tried to ease her away when she stopped shaking but she tightened her hold around my waist. Her nipple burned into my skin. “Just another minute.”

I rested my chin against her temple. “Anything you need.”

“Thank you, Max.”

I groaned. Hopefully it was internally. Now she used my name? With her breasts flush against me, her strong hands holding me like I was her savior.

Her hero.

How the hell had I ended up here?

The cold and the wet was seeping into my skin. I gathered her closer and stood. She swayed into me and I tried to angle my lower half to the side so she couldn’t tell just how hard I was.

Her hand slid lower on my back. “Max, I—” She dragged her mouth against my neck. “I can’t settle. My fingers are numb. Everything feels numb.”

“Shh, it’s okay. We were on a cold floor. Just let some of my body heat inside you.”

Her lips brushed over my jugular. The flick of her tongue against my skin and the racing pulse there was dangerous. “I need...” She tugged up my shirt until she got to my flesh. “I can’t stop shaking.”

I started to shrug out of my suit jacket and she stopped me.

“No. Warmer this way.” She breathed against my neck, her body plastered against me.