Say It's Forever (Redemption Hills 2)

It happened so fast that I didn’t realize what he was doing before his hand was already there. As if it were second nature. As if he did it all the time. As if he had the right.

Fire streaked my flesh.

Horror and fear and the fight.

Worse was the flash of comfort that came along with it.

Aghast, I ripped myself back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I wheezed, the words haggard and pained. Panic raced my veins and nearly sent me screaming out the door.

Screw the rain and the storm.

But I forced myself to remain standing.

I wasn’t weak.

I wasn’t weak.

I lifted my chin defiantly like I was daring him to do it again because if he did it this time, I was going to teach him a lesson.

He actually had the nerve to look apologetic, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his low-slung jeans that showed off an expanse of chiseled abs, his hip bones peeking out over the top. The packed, rippled flesh was covered in those designs there, too. Ones that I refused to study even though I was itching to reach out and touch them the same way as he had done to my scar.

Like it was natural.

Right.

God, I kind of hated this man. Hated that he stirred something in me that I couldn’t afford to feel.

“Sorry. That was rude.” It sounded like he meant it.

“I don’t even know you.”

He dragged a hand from his pocket and uneasily roughed it through the longer pieces of his hair. “Know it.”

He hesitated, then added, “But there’s something about you, isn’t there, Salem?” That gaze narrowed and his head pitched to the side, the man studying me as if I were a riddle he was trying to decipher.

Energy shivered and flashed. A blanket of lightning flickered at the windows. A current of it ran the dense air.

The way his eyes caressed my face, it might as well have been his hands. “Is it wrong if I want to get to know you?”

Attraction billowed and boiled. Held in the bare space that seethed between us. A snare to hold me back.

Gravity.

I scrambled around in my brain for the last vestiges of my common sense.

“I have no interest in that.” The words were bitchy and a straight-up lie. “I just want to go home.”

The blunt of the rejection struck across his face before he dropped his gaze to look at the floor.

“Right, okay,” he mumbled, his head bouncing in affront as he stared at his bare feet with his teeth gritting.

Thunder cracked.

With it, the rain intensified to become a violent pounding at the roof.

He looked up at me, and every angle of his face hardened with the promise. “Told you my purpose tonight was gettin’ you to safety.”

I was pretty sure it was here that wasn’t safe. Not with the way my pulse battered and my stomach coiled and this needy interest was taking me over. I swallowed hard. “What does that mean?”

“Means you’re stuck with me tonight. I’ll get you home first thing in the morning.”

“You expect me to stay here? With you?” It was a shriek of disbelief.

“Didn’t mean in my bed, darlin’.” He angled forward again, his breath caressing my skin, sex and seduction rising to the surface. “But that sure would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

The air locked in my lungs, and he was chuckling low and looking at me like he knew the flush of desire he elicited in me. Then the man so casually strode away, overpowering his kitchen, so sexy when he dipped into the black metal refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He twisted the cap and took a long pull, then he lifted it in the air, facing me as he backed away. “Goodnight, Wildcat. Guest room is all yours. Make yourself at home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

My mouth dropped open as he disappeared back through the same double doors, catty-corner to the room where I’d taken a shower.

The room with that giant, luxurious bed where he expected me to sleep.

I stood there in the dark for at least ten minutes, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do, because this was crazy, while the heavens continued to dump and pour and deluge.

Finally, I accepted that I was stuck there tonight and reluctantly crept to the guest bedroom where I shut the door and locked it.

I slipped under the covers and sank into the plush comfort.

I typed out one last message on my phone and prayed at least someone would receive it.

Me: I still can’t get through to anyone. My car broke down, but I ran into a friend who offered me a place to stay for the night. I’ll be home first thing. Please don’t worry, I’ll be fine.

A friend was stretching it.

But they didn’t need to worry even more than they already would be.