Free In Safe Hands (The Safe House Series Book 1) by Leslie North Page B

hostess and walked straight into the woman's restroom. Damian pulled open a tiny stall and shot the latch behind him before turning to look at her. They were chest-to-chest.
    “Jesus fucking Christ, Alexa. What were you thinking?”
    Her arms looped around his neck before he could complete the question. Damian planted himself as her weight launched against him. Her lips captured his in a desperate, hungry attempt to purge wrongs and unleash all that they had failed to subvert for so long. She tasted sweet, fiery, and wholly forbidden. He answered her fevered exploration of his mouth with a not-so-subtle growl and a sparring match of tongues that pit a strong, passionate Russian against and equally tough protector, hell-bent on righting the missteps of the past.
    His dick sprang to life, and he found the only way to equalize the brilliant torture was to angle her spread thighs against it. He grabbed her tight buttocks and hauled her against his arousal, swapping places to leverage the metal door against his pressing need.
    She raked her nails where his hair met scalp, raining down a toxin in his brain that cleared all sense of time and place and danger. His name riding her gusty exhales nearly unzipped him from his skin.
    Her kiss subsided, from white-hot and desperate to the gentle strokes of something far more enduring than a lost moment in a public bathroom. When her lips tightened and pressed downward and tremors began to wrack her body, shaking him by proxy, he pulled away from her mouth.
    A single tear shot down her flushed, porcelain cheek.
    “Alexa?” He searched the severe lines etched across her forehead, the agonizing twist of her stunning features. “Are you hurt?”
    She shook her head, unable to speak.
    Damian moved his hands from her backside to her waist and lowered her feet to the floor. He replayed the moments since they entered the stall to make sure he hadn’t misread her intent.
    “I can’t do this.” Her words surfaced around a weak, almost imperceptible sob. “I just can’t, Damian. I can’t betray my father.”
    “You’re doing the right thing,” he whispered. His hand came up to smooth her hair behind her ear. “You’re a good person, Alexa. It’s time to break free of his choices and make your own.”
    She leaned into him, as if she were desperate to sample that liberation with every inch of her body.
    Damian gave beneath her slighter weight and allowed her pliable body to press him back against the bathroom door. He breathed evenly, trying to calm her with each rhythmic intake of his chest, but he felt his exhales coming shorter with each passing second that he held her. Her breasts flattened against him, and his mouth watered at the imagined taste of her rosy, pink buds against his tongue. He was in more danger now than he had been in the street outside. He had to regain control.
    "I'm not so sure anymore," she whispered. Her fingers clutched and wrung at the fabric of his shirt, playing with the neckline. No, not playing… even he could tell this wasn't another one of her flirtatious attempts to rattle his composure.
    Not sure about testifying or not sure about him?
    One he could live with. Increasingly, one he could not.
    His holstered gun pressed against his spine from the door’s pressure, reminding him of his purpose, his place.
    Damian sucked in a breath. "We need to head back into the restaurant. Order something."
    He could scarcely think of anything except that they were behind a locked door together and safely concealed from the outside world. He needed to concentrate on the plan. He needed to concentrate on something other than the fact that if he kissed Alexa again, he would take her, right here, right now.
    She deserved so much more. More than a filthy bathroom stall in the middle of nowhere. More than a father who taught her love was conditional. More than a cop who inked an iron-clad promise to himself that he would never again betray the code of loyalty.
    He