Page 71 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

He shook his head. “I can’t. His wife is gone because of me. He’d see me dead before he helped us. And I won’t put you in danger more than I have already.”

“So what are we going to do?”

“Not we.” He lifted a hand. “Me. I’m going to watch your house, wait for them to come back.”

I stared at him. He couldn’t possibly think to take on those men himself. By his own admission, he’d been taken captive and tortured once already.

“No.” I jumped up, placing myself in front of him. “You’re not going alone. Tell me what to do and?—”

He peered up at me, a strange expression on his face. “Are you trying to protect me?”

I stiffened. “I just patched you back up. I’d rather my hard work not go to waste.”

He was silent for a moment, those dark eyes studying me intently. Anticipation skittered along my nerve endings as one large hand landed on the curve of my hip. I froze at the contact, my breath suspended in my lungs.

His long fingers danced slowly over my hip, as if acquainting themselves with each dip and curve, waiting for me to pull away. I didn’t.

His free hand moved to my other hip, and an electrical current passed through my body. I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation. His thumbs brushed back and forth, pushing the hem of my shirt out of the way so he could stroke the soft flesh of my stomach. My inner muscles tightened and coiled, and I swayed slightly toward him.

He eased me closer, pressing his face to the valley between my breasts and breathing deep. It felt like a dream, one I very much didn’t want to wake from. So I kept my eyes closed, using my other senses. My arms felt like lead as I lifted them and slid my hands around his shoulders, clutching him to me.

“I like it,” he murmured. “That you want to protect me.”

At that, my eyes popped open and clashed with his dark gaze, fraught with emotion. He lifted a hand to cup my face, tracing the seam of my lips. “You remind me of a lioness. Strong. Loyal.”

His touch grew bolder, his hands stroking the backs of my thighs then upward to cup my bottom. “Brave.”

I sucked in a little breath as he lifted me off my feet, dragging me up against his body. My legs automatically parted to straddle his lap, and I found myself plastered to him. His hands coasted over my back and bottom, caressing every inch he could reach. My core burned with need, and I rubbed against him like the feline he’d just compared me to.

My pulse sprinted rapidly, and I found myself moving before I’d even realized it. His fingers sank into my hair, pulling me close as he met me halfway, his lips grazing over mine. The first kiss was tentative, like he was remembering the mechanics of the motion. In the blink of an eye it shifted to something dark and primal.

His mouth opened, forcing me to do the same. His tongue swept in, rolling over mine, and I felt my senses pitching violently as I struggled to keep up. I was drowning in sensation, sparks shooting through my body, turning my mind hazy. I could feel his arousal swelling beneath me, and I ground my hips into him. One of us groaned—who, I couldn’t be sure.

The next thing I knew, the world was spinning around me. I grasped at his shoulders, clutching him tightly as he rolled us so I was pinned beneath his huge body. His lips left mine, and I whimpered softly. The hand holding my bottom tightened fractionally, a silent reassurance.

Instead of leaving me, he trailed kisses along my cheek and chin, down my throat and between my breasts. I wanted to shove the fabric out of the way and feel his skin against mine. I wriggled restlessly, mindless with pleasure, and he pressed another hard kiss to my lips. The hand holding my bottom curled into my flesh then lifted, shifting us higher on the bed.

His dark gaze met mine and held as he climbed over me, settling over my hips. Every muscle trembled as he lightly grasped my hands then levered my arms over my head. He leaned forward, using his weight to keep me pinned while his mouth explored mine once more.

One hand tightened on my wrists, suspended high over my head, while the other slipped down my arms before disappearing. Anticipation zinged through me as I waited anxiously, and I couldn’t help the little jerk my hips gave. I wanted him—needed him—inside me.

The pressure of his kiss intensified. Suddenly he broke it, staring down at me, a combination of regret and determination in his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

I was vaguely aware of something tightening around my wrists, and I blinked up at him, my mind fighting to process what was happening. I tried to lower my hands, but they remained suspended high over my head.

My heart rate kicked up when I realized he’d bound my hands together. “Wh-what…?”

But he wasn’t listening. He’d already shifted around, one huge hand wrapped around my ankle. The pieces of the puzzle collided as he pulled my foot toward the edge of the bed. I kicked and bucked wildly against his hold, but his fingers tightened inexorably.

“What the hell are you doing?” I kicked out at him with my free foot, and satisfaction ricocheted through my chest when it glanced off his chin. He gritted his teeth as he used a thin rope to secure my right foot to the bed.

“I’m going to kill you!” I shrieked. “You crazy asshole, you can’t do this to me!”

Pulling on my hands only served to make the bindings pull tighter, and fear raced through me. What was he going to do to me?

“Please,” I begged, my voice cracking. “Please don’t do this. Let me go.”

Without a word he secured my other foot to the bed. I fought him at every turn, but I was no match for his brute strength. There was no satisfaction in his expression as he stared down at me and shook his head, his shoulders slumped inward. “This is the only way to keep you safe.”

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