Free Hijacked (A Retribution Novel) by Cindy Stark Page B

the self-centered and, unfortunately, the only-good-for-one-night part. “Is that why you’re trying to make amends with your brother?”
    An uncomfortable look crossed his face. “Something like that.”
    She waited for him to expound, but he drank his coffee instead.
    She sighed and glanced around.
    “Ready to go?” His dark eyes seemed darker, and she couldn’t read the expression buried in them.
    “I don’t know. Yes. No.” She exhaled, dreading the familiar agitation building inside her. She wanted to like this man, but she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Damn. “I can’t sit here—”
    “Let’s go then,” he interrupted, sliding to the edge of the booth.
    “But, I can’t go home. Not yet.”
    He met her gaze. “We could always go back to my place.”
    A thrill zinged through her, starting a battle between her common sense and the darkness that lived inside her.
    “Just kidding.” He smiled, obviously taking her silence for a refusal. “How about a walk? When I’m feeling really edgy, I find moving my body helps.”
    Immediately thoughts of them moving their bodies in unison popped into her mind, and she wished she had agreed to his offer before he’d rescinded it. “You get that way, too?”
    “All the time.” He stood and held out a hand to her. “We’ll drive back to the waterfront and walk there. That way, you can leave any time you’re ready.”
    A few minutes later, Christian parked before helping her from the car. It would have been enough, the way he took her hand like she was someone to be treasured. But the sensation of him running his thumb up and down her forefinger while they walked muddied her brain and ignited her senses. She’d been with men before, but none that seemed to take such pleasure in just touching her.
    “Do you ever walk down here?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation going and distract her from the myriad of delightful sensations assaulting her. “It’s becoming more of a high crime area, you know?”
    He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
    Her topic of conversation backfired in a big way. The idea that someone might care enough to protect her was a hollow-point bullet through her armor. She wanted to beg him to stop being so thoughtful and tender, but her need was strong, leaving her powerless. She mentally cursed for allowing herself to become so vulnerable to others. But the rational side of her spoke up, defending her feelings. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been raised with a solid foundation of love. It wasn’t her fault God made her crave the touch of others only to be refused such luxury. How in the hell was she supposed to push away something she obviously needed as much as air?
    It killed her that she felt that way, but what could she do? Pretend she didn’t need it? She’d done that for years, and look how well that had turned out for her.
    She released his hand and wrapped her fingers around his bicep, using the excuse of a potentially unsafe situation to allow her to get closer to him.
    His short shirtsleeves gave her direct contact with his skin, and she couldn’t resist the subtle search and discovery this opportunity provided her. The hairs on his muscled forearms led to smooth skin covering hardened biceps. She tried to keep her movements slow and unnoticeable, but she desperately needed to feel him.
    Damn it. What she really needed was to keep her wits about her and stop thinking about how his bare skin had felt against hers and the way it seemed as though he’d stolen her soul when he’d slid inside her before.
    Stop. She just needed to stop.
    “Unfortunately, I’ve spent more time along the waterfront than I ever expected,” she said. “However, it does give a person a better perspective on life.”
    Christian placed his hand over hers, trapping her against his skin. “I can only imagine. It might even show you what’s truly important.”
    It certainly had for her.