"Are you insane! He has a knife. What do you think he'll do if you catch him?"
"He shoved you. He touched you."
Her lips parted as if she was going to say more--probably yell at him for being an idiot--but then she drew in a breath and nodded as tears pooled in her eyes.
He sucked in air, then looked around, realizing that he'd followed the guy into one of the side alleys. "He's gone, anyway."
"Look at me. I'm shaking."
"Hey, it's okay now." He put his hands on her shoulders. "He's gone. It's fine. Your phone and credit cards can all be replaced."
She blinked away tears, her voice shaky as she said, "It was only make-up. After Brent told us about him, I put my credit card and driver's license in my back pocket, along with my phone."
"So he got nothing?"
She shook her head. "But I was so afraid he was going to hurt you. Cam, he had a knife. What if he'd stopped? Turned around? He could have c-cut you. He could have k-k-killed you."
He wanted to reassure her. To tell her he was fine. To tell her that the pain and fear in her eyes--fear for him--was the most wonderful, terrifying, humbling thing in the world.
And even though he knew that he might be screwing everything up--even though he knew he should simply hold her and tell her they were both perfectly all right--he did the only thing that he could do.
He leaned in, caught the back of her head, and closed his mouth over hers.
Chapter Five
Mina gasped as Cam's tongue swept inside her mouth and his body pressed hard against hers. She didn't know if it was lust or adrenaline that pounded through her veins. All she knew was that she wanted this--the taste of him, the feel of him. The strength and safety of his arms.
With heated purpose, his mouth explored hers, his tongue warring with hers, his teeth tugging on her lower lip. It was a kiss that claimed--that demanded surrender. And she willingly gave herself over to him, wanting nothing more than to get lost in this wild, wicked, and unexpected sensual assault.
Nearby, she could hear the sound of cars rushing down the streets. She could smell the fetid scent of the alley and feel the rough brick abrading her back through the thin cotton of her shirt. But none of that mattered. The only thing she wanted was more--more Cameron, more power, more of the lightning that was crackling around them, making her skin tingle as if electricity was surging through her body, fueled by his touch and her desire.
Gently, he lessened the assault of his kiss, stepping back so that the charged air filled the space between them. At first, she whimpered, wanting to regain that connection, but then he trailed his lips over the soft corner of her mouth, then across her cheek to her ear. His tongue teased her, and she felt the sensation rocket through her, cutting straight to her core and filling her with a liquid heat that made her body throb in silent demand.
"Tell me you like that." Cam's voice was low, powerful, and as it reverberated through her body, she felt more than heard his words.
"Yes." She had to lick her lips because her mouth had gone so dry.
"Me, too," he murmured. "You taste sweet. I want to taste every inch of you."
She whimpered, her imagination conjuring the most wonderful fantasies of his tongue exploring her body. "Cam." The word was soft. A plea, and as if in response, he gently trailed his finger down her body, following the line of her shoulder, her collarbone, then moving on to the swell of her breast.
Her nipples were hard as pebbles, and he teased one lightly through the cotton of her shirt and the thin material of her bra. So lightly that she wanted to scream. To beg him to touch her harder. Wilder. She wanted to get lost in the storm that was ripping through her. More than that, she wanted to get lost in him. His kisses. His touch. His silent demands.
He kept one hand on her breast, but with
the other, he continued a slow exploration, leaving her skin lightning-kissed as he moved lower and lower.
"Yes," she moaned as his hands slid down and found the hem of her tee-shirt. Slowly, he tugged it up, higher and higher until he'd exposed her bra. And when he tugged down her bra cup, then closed his mouth over her breast, she had bite her lip not to scream with pleasure.
The shirt had ridden up her torso, and the feel of the bricks on her now-exposed lower back made some of her sanity return. They were in an alley. They were in public.
But she didn't care. Dear God, she really didn't care. She just wanted Cam. This intimacy. This moment.
With his free hand, he fumbled at the button on her jeans, but she pushed his hands away and unfastened them herself. Then she yanked down the zipper with a whispered, "Yes. Oh, please, yes." She craved him, desperate for the feel of him against her, in her. His body covering hers, claiming her. Protecting her.
He groaned, low in his throat, the sound full of surprise and pleasure. Then his fingers slipped into her panties. She reveled in the connection, closing her eyes and arching her back as his fingers slid down inside her tight jeans, cupping her. "Baby, you're so wet."
"Please." It was the only word she could manage. But with a low, demanding groan, she buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. He took the hint and thrust his fingers inside her.