Page 61 of Extracted

“What do you mean?”

“He always had to push his limits. When we climbed trees, he went the highest. When we stole, he went for the big stuff. When we rode bikes, he always did the stupidest tricks. It’s like he needed to test God—to make sure he wanted him alive. I don’t fucking know. But he was out far. I knew he’d come in soon to eat, but after ten minutes or so I had this feeling—I can’t describe it—I just . . . I couldn’t breathe. It’s like the air was kicked from my lungs. My whole body went cold and I knew, I just knew, it was Cole.”

Goosebumps rippled over his skin at the recollection. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget that feeling. A feeling that was so powerful, but one that hadn’t even been his. The paralyzing fear that had coursed through his veins, turning his skin cold and stiff and making his hair stand on end . . . it’d been Cole’s fear, and he’d felt it on a cellular level.

“I stood and ran to the water without even thinking. Cole was nowhere. I yelled at Dare to watch Nash and then just dove into the water. Didn’t even know where to fucking look.”

Gemma’s chilled body pressed tighter against his—or maybe he was overheating. The need to get up and pace the room made his legs tingle. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose. He could tell the story now. It was over. He was no longer a helpless, starving kid who had to run his little brothers out of the house so they didn’t see their mom get beaten or hide them under the bed when their dad went on a rampage and came after them.

“I swam toward the last place I’d seen him. The water was so fucking green. Couldn’t see a thing. I just swam and swam, only coming up for a breath when I had to . . .” He gulped down the swell of emotion in his throat. “I knew I’d die before I gave up. It crossed my mind . . . swimming back to Nash and Dare, but it was like there was an invisible hold on me. There’s no way I could have left that lake without my brother.”

He lifted his hand and swiped it over his forehead, mopping up some of the sweat. Jesus, he should be over this. Shouldn’t be affected anymore by the feeling of helplessness that had overtaken him that day.

Gemma’s hand closed around his wrist, and she brought his knuckles to her lips. “You’re okay now. So is Cole.”

He nodded and rubbed his face—what the fuck was that on his cheeks? Tears. Holy shit. He dashed them away with the back of his hand. A glance down at Gemma’s gaze on his chest assured him she hadn’t seen. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. I was under the water, fighting to stay under even though my lungs wanted to burst, and then I felt it—his hand. He was so damn cold. I pulled him to the surface, and it took everything I had to get us both back to shore.”

His heart rate started to slow. In a second, the memory of Cole gasping for air would hit him and the nightmare would be over. “I didn’t know CPR. I just started slamming on his chest. Dare ran for help and then . . . Cole coughed up water and started to breathe.”

Gemma sat up and threw her arms around his neck. “That must have been so horrible for you. But you saved his life.”

He brought his hand to her slender back and ran his palm over the indent of her spine. His pulse pattered against his temples as her raspberry-and-lemon scent soothed his frazzled nerves.

Her fingers curled into the skin at the base of his neck, and she clung to him as if he’d float away if she let go.

He chuckled. “I’m fine, you know.” Wetness leaked down the side of his neck and she sniffed. “Tell me that’s not snot.”

She laughed and swatted his chest. “You’re such an ass.” She pulled her face away and his neck cooled without her hot breath against his skin. Redness rimmed her eyes, and tears ran down her cheeks with no sign of slowing. Her smile faltered. “I’m really sorry that happened to you.”

He shrugged and brought his hand to rest against her ear. His palm cupped half her head. She fit so nicely with his body . . . like a lost puzzle piece or some shit. “Don’t be. It’s in the past.”

“You must still worry about him.”

He chortled. He’d never admit it to Cole, but she’d hit the nail on the head. “I guess you could say that. Not because I worry about something randomly killing him, but because he’ll always put himself in the deadliest situations without a goddamn care for his own life. It’s why he—” He cleared his throat. “Never mind.”

“Why he what?”

“It’s why he does what he does for a living. But don’t ask, okay?” He shook his head. “That story’s for another day.”

Her eyes grew small. “I’d like to meet him one day.”

That made him let out a full-blown laugh. “Honey, trust me. No one wants to meet Cole.”

Her lips slid into a mischievous grin. “Well, now you’re just intriguing me more. I want to know what makes you tick.” She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip.

He wiped the remnants of moisture from her cheeks. “You wanna know what makes me tick?”

“Mm-hmm.” Her eyes blazed navy fire.

He caught her around the waist and flipped her over on the mattress. She let out a squeal as he landed on top of her. He dove his hand into her dark locks, caressing her scalp. He pressed his lips to each cheek, beneath each eye that had cried for him, then to her lips.

The playfulness fell away from her face, and she hiked her knees up to his sides. The warmth of her sex pressed against his cock drove him wild.

He melded his lips to hers, touching her soft flesh and flicking his tongue between her teeth. A soft mewl escaped her throat.

He pulled away for a beat, flames burning inside his core. Taking in her dark, pinched-together eyebrows and full, pink lips wanting more, he swallowed a breath of air.

“You, Gemma. You make me fucking tick.”

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