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Hostile Territory (Blackbridge Security 1)

Page 54

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But I don’t. I nod and step away.

“I’m fine.”

I’m not.

Of course, I’m not.

I’m lusting after Dani’s ex. I’m as desperate to get away from him as I am to feel his arms around me like they were last night. I want to feel the stubble on his face rough against my sensitive skin. I want his fingers brushing hair away from my face just moments before he lowers his mouth to mine. I want to curl up in his lap while he tells me that what I’m feeling is okay, that it’s unavoidable and worth all the fallout that’s sure to come if we don’t keep our distance.

He clears his throat again, the awkward silence filling the space between us like a canyon rather than the mere two feet separating us.

“We should head back.”

I don’t walk toward the horse with the same brand of hesitation that I did earlier. I’m no longer afraid of the animal but afraid of the way I know I’m going to miss him once we arrive back at the barn.

I’m losing my mind, but I don’t think walking back is an option. Even suggesting that I do would wave a bright red flag in front of Deacon. I come to the conclusion on the ride back as I try to keep as much distance between our bodies as possible on the small saddle, that it’s all in my head.

I don’t want Deacon, I want comfort. It’s not this man in particular that I crave, but the attention and assurances during the upheaval of my life. It’s proximity, not him that has my cravings all out of whack.

When he lowers me from the horse, I arrow toward the house without even looking back at him.Chapter 25Deacon

After checking on Anna an hour after she ran out of the barn like her ass was on fire, I discovered her resting in her room. I shoved down the irritation that she was asleep in the spare bedroom rather than in my own bed because the frustration was irrational.

She’s keeping her distance like I should be. I never should’ve offered the horseback ride. Or at minimum, I should’ve saddled up her own damn horse, but I’m a selfish bastard, and the time she spent in my arms last night wasn’t enough. It was better than I imagined when I pictured curling around her in the hotel suite. The images in my head didn’t give justice to the warmth of her body or her soft curves.

I escaped to my bedroom much the same way she did after jumping down from Sweet Pea, but something upset her at the stream, and that’s on me. I could’ve asked what was wrong, but I’m an idiot, one that likes to solve my own damn problems and assumed she’s the same. Clearly it was a mistake because I fucked up, and I don’t have a clue how.

I spent the entire day in the barn, skipping lunch because I’m a coward who knows how hard it would be to keep my damn hands to myself if I went inside.

The rumble of my stomach and the prospect of eating more chicken and dumplings eventually win out over staying out of the house until I get more information from Wren. A couple of days between waves of intel isn’t a new thing. Sometimes it takes weeks to build a case before we’re able to make a move with certainty, but the minutes just seem to be crawling by.

It’s a special kind of torture finding a gorgeous, albeit untouchable woman, standing barefoot in my kitchen. Anna doesn’t look over her shoulder when I pause in the doorway and take her in. Tendrils of hair have escaped the pile on top of her head which is all kinds of sexy to me. After Dani, I realized that well-put-together women are nothing but trouble. I don’t want a perfect woman. Their focus is never where it should be.

But it isn’t just the sight of Anna standing at the stove like she belongs in my space that has me entranced. As if that cruelty isn’t enough, she’s swaying her hips to music playing low from her phone on the counter. I know exactly how good that thick ass feels. Our sleeping positions somehow changed last night going from me curled around her back to her being sprawled on my chest, leg hitched up. I woke with one hand holding her against me at the knee and the other wrapped around her back and gripping her ass.

I swallow thickly with the memory, and Anna turns around, noticing me with a hitch in her breath before I can run upstairs and take care of the problem arising the same way I did when I left her in bed alone this morning.

“You scared me.” Her hand goes to her throat like she’s been scandalized, but I can’t say a word.


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