DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(19)

“You’re blushing again.”

“I am not.”

I turned my attention back to the food, pushing it off the burner.

“It’s done.”

He came up behind me to look, purposely pushing his body up against mine. But he was the one who was surprised when I turned and slipped my finger through the space between the buttons on the front of his shirt and tugged him a little closer.

“I think you like playing games with me. I think you like to keep me in the dark because you get off on the fact that I’m curious at all.”

“Who’s playing games with whom?” He brushed a piece of hair away from my eyes, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “One minute you hate me and the next you act like a jealous bitch.”

“You don’t know a bitch if you think—”

I never got a chance to finish what I was trying to say. He kissed me. Not a subtle, brushing of the lips, but a hard, passionate kiss that threatened to push me back onto the hot burner even as his hand came around my waist and caught me. I could feel his tongue against my lips, could feel him knocking and asking for entrance. And even though I knew I shouldn’t, I opened to him. I pushed myself up on my tiptoes and I kissed him back, my tongue dancing with his before he pushed it out of the way and made an exploration that was more thorough than any I’d experienced in a very long time.

I slid my hand up over his jaw and felt his muscles moving just under my palm. His hair was too short to bury my fingers in, but I could still hold him close, so much closer, even as my other hand wandered over his waist, sliding under his jacket to touch his denim-covered ass. His body was so tight, his thigh moving between my legs like a tree trunk. He pushed himself so close to me that I could feel the pressure of him against my throbbing clit, my skirt riding up along my legs to give him all the access he could want. As his hand slid over my hip, he gripped my thigh and pulled my leg up against his side.

I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d wanted to. There was something primitive about the way my body responded to him, something that overrode all the common sense that normally ruled my actions. My fingers curled and buried themselves in his flesh, pulling him close and refusing to let go. However, he clearly wasn’t as lost in the moment as I was.

“I’m sorry,” he said, letting go of me and stumbling backward. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He glanced up at something high on the wall, clearing his throat as he stumbled back against the opposite counter. I followed his glance, but I couldn’t see anything. If there was a camera there, it was very small.

“Enjoy your dinner,” I said.

I rushed out of the room, grabbing my things and hiding away behind the closed door of my bedroom.

Fuck him!

If he didn’t want me, that was his problem. Not mine. I was beautiful. There were dozens of men who’d be willing to share my bed tonight. All I had to do was pick up a phone and call one of them. What did I need him for?

So why did I feel like he’d just crushed my heart under his heel?

***

I don’t know when I fell asleep. I thought I was never going to sleep. I watched a dozen episodes of Friends on Netflix, so many that my brain was beginning to feel like mush. It was sometime after I switched to cable and the lifetime movie of the week reruns that I finally drifted off, I guess. But I felt like it had only been a few seconds when I felt him shake my shoulder.

“Don—”

“Shh,” he said, pressing two fingers to my lips.

He was shirtless, but he had on a pair of jeans and sneakers. And a gun. He had a gun in his hand.

He tugged my arm and pulled me out of bed, his arm wrapped around my waist as he led me back down the hall to the living room. We were nearly to the garage and the SUV when I realized he was taking me out of the house wearing nothing but a shirt.

“Donovan, I don’t have any clothes on.”

He didn’t respond. He simply pushed me out the garage door and set me unceremoniously in the passenger seat of the SUV. Then he came around and climbed behind the wheel, pulling out of the garage so quickly that he probably left tire marks on the cement floor.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a safe house about a mile from here.”

“Safe house?”

“There’ll be clothes there.”

He didn’t say anything else. And I was frightened enough not to ask anything else.

After a short drive, we pulled into the garage attached to a nondescript house in the middle of a street that sported dozens of nondescript houses. Donovan came around the side of the SUV and helped me out, keeping his arm around my waist as he led the way inside.

“We’re here,” he said. But it was pretty obvious he wasn’t talking to me.

The house was about the same size as mine. The kitchen was larger, big enough to sport a small table in the back corner. It was open to the living room, which appeared to be empty from where we were. And there was a small hallway that led to the back of the house, presumably where the bedrooms were.

Donovan led the way to the living room and directed me to a couch.

“What’s going on?”

“One of the motion detectors went off outside your house.”

“Someone was there?” I asked, starting to stand, but then realizing I really had nowhere to go. I sat back down, searching his face, looking for the fear that would send me into a panic. But he was calm, his eyes gentle as he returned my stare.