Free Stirring Attraction by Sara Jane Stone Page A

the coffee mug on the table and . . .
    No, he couldn’t touch her. She was hurting and broken—­and so was he.
    â€œSounds like Ted’s a good guy,” he mumbled as he lowered his hands to his lap.
    â€œHe is.”
    Shit, those two little words reawakened the monster. Big. With green eyes. Hell, it was the stuff of her nightmares. And his too, when he thought about it long and hard. The idea of Lily with another man would leave him screaming with rage in his sleep. If he ever bothered to close his eyes long enough to dream . . .
    â€œBut he failed the ‘keep me safe from the dark’ test when he didn’t think to camp outside in his car,” she added.
    â€œSometimes all those fancy teaching degrees don’t translate to real-­life applications.”
    â€œNo.” She cocked her head. “You’re not laughing at me. Or telling me there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
    â€œI told you. I believe you.” He reached out his left hand and clasped her right, the one still resting in her lap after holding her dress down to tease him—­or just plain drive him crazy. “And, Lil, don’t ever let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn’t fear.”
    He gave her hand a squeeze. Then he released her and pushed to his feet. “I’m going back to my post in the car.”
    â€œDominic—­”
    â€œThanks for the coffee.” He lifted the mug off the table and held it up in the air as if toasting her. “I’m going to grab a refill on the way out. That way you don’t need to worry about the dark tonight. I’m going to watch over you. And after two cups of this brew, nothing will get past me. I promise.”
    â€œY OU RUINED EVERYTHING!”
    The voice echoed in her ears. The hot breath touched her neck.
    Someone screamed. The high-­pitched sound reverberated against the walls.
    Walls?
    She was outside, her body pressed up against pavement. He was on top of her. Breathing . . . touching . . . cutting . . . screaming . . .
    No, she was screaming.
    But someone had spoken. And she knew that voice. She’d heard it before. Somewhere. Outside of her nightmares. A room filled with desks . . .
    No, that was her classroom. She was outside.
    Bang. Bang. Bang!
    The knocking pulled her back. She wasn’t outside. But this couldn’t be her classroom.
    Her hand reached out. The surface was soft. Familiar. She opened her eyes.
    My bedroom.
    Another nightmare.
    â€œLily?”
    She pushed herself into an upright position on her queen bed. She’d kept the wallpaper, her old dresser, but she’d upgraded from her twin mattress and metal frame after her mother passed away. Not that it mattered now. She slept alone. And half the time, she closed her eyes and returned to that familiar stretch of pavement in the park.
    â€œComing.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She stumbled toward the bedroom door and made her way down the hall. She paused in the entryway and glanced down at her dress. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes again. It was as if pajamas offered a one-­way ticket to an attack she couldn’t escape. But in her clothes, she could run.
    â€œLily, I need you to open the door now or I’m breaking it down,” her ex-­boyfriend turned bodyguard growled.
    She released the chain and flipped the deadbolt. Then she opened the door a crack. “You’re up early.”
    â€œI never went to sleep.” He turned his head as if trying to peer into her house and scan for bad guys. “I thought I heard a scream.”
    â€œOh?” Her grip tightened on the door. “It must have been your sleep-­deprived imagination. I didn’t . . . I didn’t hear it.”
    He studied her and for a second she wondered if he could see into her thoughts.
    â€œMy mistake,” he said. “Thought maybe you were calling me