Page 49 of The Pucking Wrong Man

A howl split the night air and I froze, glancing around the shadows for where the sound had come from.

Deep, rough barking followed the howl, and I screamed and jumped at Camden, clawing at his shirt—only faintly aware of how muscled his chest was.

“Do you see it? Do you see the dog? Oh my gosh. Where is it?” My voice was high pitched and crazy, and I was trying to literally climb Camden’s body like a tree.

But I couldn’t help it.

I hated dogs. HATED them.

Camden’s arms wrapped around me, his voice calm but tinged with concern. “It’s probably just a stray,” he reassured me, stroking a hand soothingly down my hair.

The barking got closer, and I screamed again, tears dripping down my face. “Please get me away. Please. Please. Please.” I was trembling—shaking so hard that I bit down on my tongue, blood filling my mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Camden muttered, adjusting my body so he was cradling me against his chest as he started walking. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, holding onto his shirt for dear life as a few more barks sounded from nearby. My breath was coming out in gasps.

“How do you like it in there, little bunny? Gatsby looks awfully hungry,” Michael grinned at me demonically through the bars of the cage he’d put me in as soon as his mother and father left for the weekend.

“Please let me out,” I sobbed as “Gatsby,” Michael’s Doberman, snarled at me from the other side of the cage. Michael had chained him tightly to the cage wall across from me, so he couldn’t quite reach where I was huddled up in the corner...but it was only a matter of time before he let out the chain.

And the dog wouldn’t stop growling at me.

“But you cry so prettily,” Michael mused, settling into a chair like he was about to watch a performance.

He’d eventually gotten up because he was bored, extending Gatsby’s chain so that I only had a small sliver of the cage where I could sit, and then he’d flipped off the lights. It had been pitch black in the basement, and the dog had snarled and pulled on his chain all night, snapping at me, trying to bite me, growling. My leg had slid out from under me at one point, and he’d bit the top of my shoe when I got too close.

I’d eventually passed out from fear.

And I’d been terrified of dogs ever since.

I came back to the present in Camden’s truck, the scent of nice leather...and him…flooding my senses. I’d soaked his shirt, and I was still gripping it like it held the key to redemption.

I tried to loosen my hands, but I couldn’t get my fingers to work. They were trembling too much.

“Relax,” he soothed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his chest, just allowing myself a second of this. A second of breathing him in, of feeling safe, of feeling okay.

For just a second.

There was something so...safe about Camden. Maybe it was because he was so much older than me. Maybe it was because of how big he was. Or maybe it was because he was holding me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

Whatever it was...the feeling was dangerous.

“So, I take it you’re scared of dogs,” he mused, his tone light. There wasn’t any judgment in his tone, and he didn’t seem to be making fun of me.

I breathed him in one more time, feeling like a crazy person, and then I forced myself to let him go. Once I sat up, I tried to move from his lap, but his arms pinned me in place.

“There’s no hurry, sweetheart,” he murmured. I finally glanced up at him, expecting to see...I don’t know what. Pity maybe.

But all I could see was concern in his gold-rimmed gaze. Camden’s thumb wiped a lingering tear from my cheek, and I watched, transfixed as he brought his thumb up to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to lick the moisture off.

“Wow...that was intense,” I breathed, not really knowing what else to say. I only knew that the longer I sat on Camden’s lap...the more another emotion was building inside of me.

He didn’t say anything, his gaze was focused on my lips, a charged intensity filling the cab that I wasn’t sure how to handle.

Something buzzed in his pocket—his phone probably—and we both startled.

Crap, what time was it? I glanced at the console, freaking out when I saw that I had to be in the shelter in twenty minutes, or I wasn’t going to have a place to sleep for the night.

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