Vain (The Seven Deadly 1)

And just as quickly as it had started, it seemed to end. I heard doors slamming and their engine roaring to life, then their headlights disappeared. Ian hesitantly stood and I followed suit, sidling next to him and gripping his shirt in one of my hands. He tucked me behind him as we watched the attackers turn away from our jeep and go the other direction.

I could feel my blood returning to my extremities and they felt heavy, but it was short-lived when the men turned suddenly and came barreling our direction, firing bullets all the way.

Ian turned us into the side of the jeep and pushed us to the back before landing on top of me and burying my head into his chest. I could hear the attackers shattering the windshield with bullets before speeding off into the night. We laid like that for several minutes before he would let me raise my head. As soon as I raised it, he hugged me like we were dying. I gripped his back, desperate to be as close to him as possible, burying my face in his neck. It took a good fifteen minutes for our breathing to steady, but he still held me more tightly than I’d ever been held in my life.

He suddenly remembered himself and jumped up into a sitting position, searching my face and body, running his hands where his eyes roamed, checking for injuries and warming me up from the inside.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

I sat up and took in his own body. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Not a scratch,” he said with a slightly shaky smirk, making my eyes burn in relief.

He grabbed me and hugged me to him again. “God, Soph,” he breathed into my hair. “I was so worried.”

That’s when I noticed his body had finally accepted it was over and he began to shiver against mine as the adrenaline left him. He pulled me away and ran his hands across my face and through my hair, down my neck and rested them on my shoulders a moment before bringing my face back into his neck. We sat there in the dirt, holding each other, molding our bodies together as closely as we could get them, fear draining from every pore.

I couldn’t believe how incredible he had been during the attack. I had never seen a man move like Ian, nor had I seen one so quick on his feet and easy to protect. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. It all came so naturally to him, I doubt he even thought twice about each action. He was calculated and aware and amazingly hot.

My hands laid flat against the hard muscles in his back, still strained and warm from the danger we’d just endured. His t-shirt clung to him and I found myself running my hands up the ridges of muscles to his shoulders just to feel them before wrapping my arms around his neck.

He held me tighter when I encircled my arms. “The windshield is done,” he breathed into my throat, bringing me back to reality.

o;What does it translate to?”

He sat up with me and peered hard into my eyes. “Exile,” he said succinctly.

I fell back then turned to realize that the sat phone was fully charged.

We’re not done, Ian Aberdeen, I told him silently.

And he knew it. I could feel it in the intoxicating charge in the air. He knew it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I tossed an extra two dollars on the counter as we left the restaurant and the woman waved at us emphatically in appreciation. Ian and I walked silently toward his jeep, both pondering, I guessed, about the bombshells we’d just laid on one another. It was the first time we had ever been vulnerable to one another and it felt overwhelmingly powerful.

As we walked, I suddenly felt a whoosh of air as Ian pulled me toward him violently just in time for me to avoid the bicyclist who’d lost control and was barreling toward us. Ian grabbed me by the waist, swinging me away and rushing me back onto the sidewalk and against the outer facade of the restaurant we’d just been inside of. As he pressed me against him, that same flush-inducing heat creeped up my neck and face and one of his hands traveled to the back of my neck while the other rested on my hip. My heart beat into my throat but not from the narrowly missed collision. I was losing control of my reaction and that had never happened to me. I was always methodically in command of the way I let a boy affect me and had their reactions to me checked as well. Always in control. Proximity to Ian Aberdeen was my kryptonite.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Far from it, I wanted to say, gazing into his breathtaking face. “I’m fine, thank you,” I said quietly instead, afraid of blemishing the moment.

We were walking a razor’s edge and my blood pulsed dangerously in my veins, pooling at the skin where his hands rested, heating me up from the inside. He backed away slowly, but the muscles in his arms bunched as he forced his hands to leave my body. I felt alone too quickly, but there was nothing I could do. In my past life, I would have dragged him back to me, but I was no longer that Sophie so I followed his very delicate lead.

We hurried to the jeep and he opened the door for me before rounding the front and settling in himself. He started the engine, but I grabbed his arm before he could put it in gear.

“Wait,” I told him.

“Yes?” he asked, breathing unusually hard and whipping his head my direction.

“I should call Pemmy for an update.”

“Oh,” he began before clearing his throat and facing the windshield, “of course.”

My heart beat rapidly at his obvious disappointment. I watched him for a second as I pretended to dial Pemmy’s number. Kiss me then, I kept ordering him silently, but he never obeyed. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel with such ferocity I believed he might bend it. I dialed Pembrook in earnest and got him on the second ring.

“Sophie!?” I heard on the other line.