Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)

Impulsively, Saks followed her. In the back of his mind the thought rumbled that he’d always follow her.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. Her voice rose almost, it seemed, in panic.

“Nothing—yet,” he said. He stepped closer, and she didn’t move away. “But I would like to.”

He watched her face with her beautiful eyes, and her pink mouth, and the cheekbones that didn’t quit, and she seemed frozen between the thought to flee and to give in.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Chrissy stood rooted to the spot as if headlights flashed in her eyes on a dark country road. Every bit of resolve she’d built up seemed forgotten as she stood there, frozen entirely in thought and in motion. Saks was more gorgeous than she remembered. She nearly forgot to breathe as he stood staring at her with eyes filled with desire. His chest had barely moved, and his lips made not as a sound as his mere presence alone commanded her not to leave. The manly scent of him, his leather jacket, and a faint odor of motor oil rolled off of him, leaving her entirely entranced. Here was the man she told herself was inappropriate, all wrong for her in every way. But the tug in her belly and the butterflies in her stomach all disagreed.

He took one more step and she didn’t move. Move. She knew if she didn’t put space between them, she’d never escape. What she needed to do was walk down that hall and not look back.

She didn’t.

One more step and he was face to face, inside her personal space, too close for comfort. Too close not to react.

She didn’t.

Instead, she stood as if rooted to the earth as he lowered his head. She wanted to resist him, but the moment their lips touched it was over. She melted into his arms against sense, against reason, needing the touch of his body against hers, wanting his strong arms around her.

“Hold me, Saks,” she whispered.

Tears formed in her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. Why was it him she wanted more than any other man? She sank into his comforting body, and she felt safe for the first time in a month. It didn't occur to her until then that she’d lived on the edge of danger the entire time she was apart from him. And she realized that if she’d allow it, he’d never let her go.

“Chrissy,” he said, lifting her chin, “what’s wrong?” He spoke with such gentleness, such concern, it broke her once more and her tears flowed more freely. She couldn’t speak.

“You’re worried about your father, aren’t you?”

Damn hi

m for giving her an excuse so she didn’t have to express her heart's yearning.

She nodded her head. Liar, her heart scolded.

Yes. Her father's condition worried her, but that wasn’t what shook her to the core. It was because, in one stunning moment, she realized what she’d denied the day she walked away from him.

She loved Anthony Parks.

What she had with Saks wasn’t some infatuation or childish crush. She loved him to the ends of the earth, and had denied herself ever realizing it.

She had thought of herself as grown up. But even with all her accomplishments and her fierce independence, she saw the lie of that now. A girl fumbles for love. A woman knows how to gather it into her life.

“Chrissy?” Another voice, a feminine and familiar one, jolted her and she pulled away from Saks. Her sister stood in the hall, her brown eyes wide as she stared at Saks.

“Hi, Saks,” she said.

“Hey, Gloria.”

“Dad’s down here, Chrissy.” She pointed down the hall. “Mom wondered what’s been keeping you.” She spoke these last words with a smirk.

“Sorry.” Chrissy swiped at her tears and raised her head to meet Saks’ gaze.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Can we get together later?” he asked in a near whisper, sending shivers through her.

“I’ll have to check on my dad. It depends on how things are with... him.”