Free Rogue Rider (Lords of Deliverance) by Larissa Ione Page B

gaze holding her frozen. “Because the demons aren’t gone, are they, Jillian?”
    Her entire body jerked in shock. “You… you saw it?”
    “Saw what?”
    Great. He was going to think she was nuts. “Nothing. I… don’t know what demons you’re talking about.”
    “Yeah,” he said, “you do.” When he got close and it was clear he wasn’t going to stop, she stepped backward until her spine slammed against the pickup cab. He dropped the bag at his feet. “And I’m not leaving you alone to deal with them by yourself.”
    “I’ve been dealing with them just fine.” Until tonight.
    One hand slapped down on the truck roof to her left.
    Thump
.
    His other hand came down to her right.
    Thump
.
    She was caged in by his arms and his body.
    “I’m sure you have. But now you don’t have to do it by yourself. We both have demons, Jillian. I just don’t know what mine are yet.” He dipped his head a little, getting even closer, and her heart beat faster. “I’ll earn my keep while I work on finding out who I am. You won’t think of me as a stray, I promise.”
    “I shouldn’t have said that,” she said, hating herself for the tremor in her voice. “I was upset.”
    “And now? Are you upset that I’m here?”
    She should be. She’d been so careful to carve out an independent life far away from the demons—both literal and figurative—of her past. She didn’t want to rely on anyone, didn’t want to
need
to rely on anyone. But the truth was that something had just frightened her out of her mind, and whether the demon was real or imagined, Reseph’s arrival had sent it scurrying.
    “Well?” he prompted. “Are you upset that I’m here?”
    “No,” she admitted, a little breathlessly.
    His smile was pure male triumph. Arrogant. Cocky. Sexy as hell. “I didn’t think so.”
    He brushed his lips over hers, and she didn’t even bother with a token protest. She was too glad to see him.
    His mouth opened, and she met his kiss boldly, going up on her toes as she clung to his shoulders. He leaned in, pinning her against the vehicle. Her breasts rubbed against his hard chest, becoming suddenly sensitive. The temperature outside had to be below zero, but her body burned with need.
    Inhaling a ragged breath, she slid her hands up to his neck, and when she scraped her nails over his skin, he let out a throaty, encouraging growl. His kiss became urgent, possessive. His tongue slipped inside her mouth to meet hers in a fierce, wet tangle.
    She’d imagined him to be a playful lover, but right now, she could also picture him being raw and rough, the kind of man who lost all pretense of civility and higher thought as he tore clothes, popped buttons, and fucked his woman against a tree or into the ground.
    Yes
. She’d been that kind of woman once. Adventurous and intense. Hard-edged and a risk-taker. Something about Reseph made her body remember. Made it crave. Made it feel like it had been deprived of food and was starving.
    She arched into him, and he hissed as her hips rolled against the ridge of his erection at the fly of his jeans. No underwear. He didn’t wear underwear.
    “You are so damned beautiful,” he murmured against her lips. “I didn’t come here for this, but with every step closer to your house, I imagined kissing you again.”
    She moaned as he dragged his lips along her jaw to her ear. His hot breath was a caress, his teeth instruments of pleasure as he nipped her earlobe.
    “Yes,” she breathed, not caring if she sounded desperately horny. She hadn’t been with a man in more than a year, and Reseph was like no man she
had
ever been with.
    Thinking this was crazy, she slid one hand down his throat, to his chest, intent on going lower… when she realized he’d gone deadly still. So still he didn’t even seem to be breathing.
    “Reseph?”
    “Shh,” he whispered into her ear. “Where’s your rifle?”
    She blinked, her lust-soaked brain not understanding the question.