“You won’t make it. You don’t have the resources and you’d have maybe an hour before every guy on Pietro’s payroll, cops included, are hunting you down.”
“Well, fuck. What the hell do I do?”
It’s not much, but I reach into one of my pockets and pull out the only safeguard I could provide her. “This isn’t sufficient,” I tell her as I hand her the stun gun. She looks at it as it transfers into her hand, then back at me. “If he attacks you, you can use this. It’s a big if though. You’re not going to be able to carry it around out in the open, or he’ll obviously know. Even if you can use it, he’s not going to be incapacitated long enough for me to get to you unless I’m right around the corner.”
Dread fills her features and she looks at the small measure of defense again.
“If you have to use it, call me immediately. They might have your house bugged, so just say… lightning bug,” I say, somehow the first thing to cross my mind. “I’ll come as fast as I can.”
“I don’t like this.”
She doesn’t feel safe. I can’t keep her safe. That fucking infuriates me.
“I’m going to come up with something better,” I tell her. “This is just until then.”
I don’t expect her to get vulnerable. I don’t know why. But when she fists my shirt in her hands and burrows into me for comfort, something expands and explodes inside my chest. She tilts her head back, looking fucking beautiful and vulnerable and open, and she says, “I don’t wanna go back there.”
I hate everything about the world, because she has to.
And I can’t do a goddamn thing about it.
Angry at my powerlessness, plagued with a yearning I’ve never had to deal with before, I fist my hand in her hair and jerk it back, tilting her face up toward mine. A breath of surprise, but no protest, and she gazes up at me, inviting me with her eyes.
My free hand comes up and I brush my rough thumb across her soft, smooth cheek. I don’t want to identify the rush of tenderness I’m experiencing, so I call it a new strain of lust. My thumb brushes across her plump lower lip, catching it. She doesn’t break eye contact, but turns her head just enough to pull the tip of my thumb into her warm, wet mouth. Lust surges through me as her mouth closes around it, and I see what I’m feeling reflected back in her warm brown eyes.
I let go of her hair and walk her up against the nearest tree. She never breaks eye contact as her back hits the rough bark, and I want to fuck her more than I want to stay sane, apparently. I’m still pretty sure I shouldn’t, but I’m damn sure going to kiss her.
I hold back for a few seconds, thinking of all the very good reasons I have for not kissing her, but none hold up when her fingers tentatively come to rest on my sides, tugging me toward her ever so lightly.
She’s waited long enough for this. Fuck, so have I.
I dip my head toward hers and her lips part for me, soft and eager. She winds a hand around my neck, pulling herself up closer to my height and our lips brush, soft at first. Moaning against my lips, she pushes her tits against me, tempting the hell out of me. I catch one in my palm, kneading it as my tongue sweeps into her mouth. Things pick up, each of us a little more desperate with every breath.
I want her, and I don’t give a damn why that’s a bad idea.
My hands skim her sides, moving over the curve of her ass. I lift her, planting myself between her thighs and pinning her against the tree, like the first time, ‘cept the first time I didn’t have my tongue halfway down her throat, her fingers moving through my hair, listening to her little moans of pleasure.
The hardness of my erection is obvious as I push between her legs. She groans, one hand dropping to grip me through the fabric.
Hissing, I slam her against the tree. She cries out, quietly, and I open my eyes to make sure I didn’t hurt her. Her eyes blaze with passion and her hand works the button on my pants.
“We can’t,” I manage.
“Yes, we can,” she says, freeing the button and shoving her hand down my pants.
Jesus, that’s hard to say no to.
“Annabelle…”
“Please,” she murmurs, bending to kiss the curve of my neck as her soft hand strokes my length.
Jesus Christ.
I pull back, but it’s the hardest goddamn thing I’ve ever done.
I let her down gently, trying to ignore her crestfallen expression as her bare feet touch the forest floor.
“Why?” she asks, and I feel like an asshole. She’s turned on and flushed and I’m rejecting her.