Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(16)
Keira dodged, twisting to the left when he charged her, and fell back, right against the curve of the sidewalk and the protruding screws of the street drain.
“That’s what I thought,” the guy said, laughing at Keira who’d landed in a fresh puddle of rainwater.
“You thought what, motherf*cker?” Kona came out of nowhere and in one swipe of his massive hands, Keira’s bag fell to the ground as the thief’s feet left the pavement. “You didn’t seriously just try taking her shit, did you?” The huge linebacker shook the guy once, then squeezed his fingers around the thief’s neck, holding him up with one hand.
“Dude stop… please…” —The guy could barely let the words lift from his mouth before Kona shook him again.
“Stop what? Huh, punk?” Another throttle and the kid started to choke. Bright, red streaks of heat collected on Kona’s cheek. Keira had seen fights before, most of them between her parents before her father took his leave, but she had never seen this. She had never seen the look of pure hatred, of vile loathing in anyone’s expression. It was one Kona wore as he continued to squeeze his large fingers around the guy’s throat.
It was in that moment, with her heart drumming hard, that something twisted in Keira’s brain, something more frightening than being mugged in an alleyway. Instinct should have told her to stop Kona, to plead with him not to hurt the much smaller guy dangling from his hands. But she didn’t. Not immediately. The hot whip of pleasure shot through her veins and the inexplicable, uncontrollable sensation of desire hardened her nipples.
Kona’s violent display completely turned Keira on.
The thief managed to kick at Kona, but the effort was weak, barely registering against Kona’s solid legs. Around them, lights from married housing started to click on and Keira came back to herself, ignored the warm throb pulsing between her legs. She got to her feet, wincing as she stoops down to retrieve her bag. “Kona, stop it,” she told him, coming next to him, but still keeping a good two feet away. He didn’t listen, didn’t relax his grip at all.
The guy tried again, landing slap after slap against Kona’s head, but it had no effect. Keira suddenly realized that she hadn’t wanted to be the cause of something that could turn very bad, so she touched Kona’s shoulder. It was only a graze of her fingertips against his shirt, but the feather touched stopped him.
“Just stop. You’ll kill him,” she told Kona, stepping back when he dropped the guy to the ground.
Kona’s attention was divided between Keira’s cautious, stern voice and the kid at his feet struggling for breath. “Don’t you move, *,” he told the thief, but from the look of him, Keira knew the guy couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.
“Are you okay?” Kona shifted his gaze to her, but Keira’s didn’t want to focus on that confused frown on his face.
“I’m fine. My back hurts a little, but I’m okay.” He acted instantly, darting toward the kid on the ground before Keira grabbed his arm, tightening her eyes against the throb that had begun in her back at the movement. “Hey, stop it.” He ignored the moaning, choking kid and stilled as though he’d been leashed. This time, that close contact stopped Keira where she stood. How had she missed it before? Kona’s wide, warm arm beneath her fingers, the rounding of his eyes, was nothing to the sharp lick of fire shooting up her fingers. Her stomach coiled and Keira felt like someone had punched her right in the gut. She didn’t know what it was, had never felt anything like it before. The darkness around them grew dense, weighted and it seemed to Keira that every breath that left her opened mouth, that left Kona’s, froze in the mist around them. It scared her. It scared Kona too, she could tell. His eyes fell to her hand which was still touching him, and Keira forgot about that ache in her back and jerked her arm away, curled her hands into her back pockets.
The moment passed and whatever had moved between them was lost in Kona’s distraction over the guy who was now coming onto his knees. Kona helped him up, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture, more an aggressive lurch on his arm and then a shove against the pine tree behind them. The kid looked like he was going to vomit and his hands immediately went to his bruising neck. But Kona just stood there, glaring down at him.
“You touch this girl, you touch any girls again and I’ll find out about it.” He moved his shoulders, a quick threatening jerk, and the thief knocked his head against the tree in his flinch. “You don’t want me finding out about that shit.” One quick twist of his chin and Kona stepped back. “Get out of here before I really get pissed.”
Kona didn’t give Keira a second to analyze what happened or what she felt. Her jeans were a soaking mess and her back felt raw and pulsing, but Kona’s attention seemed distracted, seemed focused on shaking the dirt and grime from her arm, checking her limbs, moving her face as he looked her over. Seeming satisfied that she wasn’t injured, he picked up her backpack and handed it to her.
Keira ignored the lick of fire that had passed between them. It was the adrenaline of her attack, a weird relief that somehow she’d been rescued. Shit, she thought. He saved me like a damn Disney princess. The thought erased the gut punch pleasure that was still coursing in her stomach. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Mouth open, coming up in a small scowl, Kona shook his head as though he’d expected a thank you and not Keira’s bitching. “He was trying to gank your stuff.”