Page 25 of My Damaged Protector

What does he mean by that? Granted, he and Justin didn't share any physical resemblance, but I'd chalked that up to each of them taking after their parents separately. So, why is he saying he wasn't his brother?

“I don't understand.”

He blows out a harsh breath at my words, his palm in mine shaking slightly. I notice this and caress him. His brows shift slightly at my action.

“He and I met in the system. We were both in the same foster home. Things were tough. They weren't treating us right, but after high school, it just became worse, so… um…” His throat bobs as he swallows. Clearing his throat, he continues, “We left together. And since then, we'd been taking care of each other. Twenty-five years, Sarah, that's how long. We were all the other person had until I let him down.”

Okay, enough already.

Standing beside him, I move to his front and push until he's seated on the bed. I climb into his lap, his eyes following my every movement curiously.

I can't say I know exactly what I'm doing either, but I know I'm not going to sit aside for another minute and listen to him continue blaming himself for something that was totally out of his hands.

When I'm on his lap, he stares at me intently, waiting for my next move. Sighing, I take my hands to his face and cup it between them.

“Listen to me, Ian, nothing you did could have stopped what happened that day.”

I've not even finished speaking before he starts to shake his head in my grip.

“I could have saved him if they would have let me inside the house.”

“You would have died with him,” I tell him the truth. I don't think anyone has told him yet. The way his eyes shut slightly at my words tells me he knows this.

Is that what all this is about?

He wishes he had died that day, too?

“Oh, Ian,” I say softly in sympathy before throwing my arms around him and pulling him into a hug. He lets me, his hands coming around me in a near death grip hold.

I let him hold onto me like I'm the only thing he has left. I'll gladly be his lifeline if he'll let me. But we've been down this road way too many times for me to know it can only end one way.

He's going to leave.

Sure, he's in Glazer Ville now, but for how long? And I still don't know why he's here. If Justin died three years ago, then he's surely not the reason Ian is here. He doesn't look like a man on vacation, and even if he is, I doubt Glazer Ville is the town anyone would choose to come for vacation.

My town is beautiful, but it's hardly a place for visitors. Relocation? Sure. The motel usually gets more tourists because it's at the beginning of the town, so, people traveling can easily stop to spend the night and then continue the next day.

Why is Ian here?

After a few minutes in his embrace, I push out of his hold so our faces are not far apart. I stare into his beautiful golden irises,and the storm behind them draws me into him. He holds my gaze, his hands now caressing my back gently.

The moment I make the decision, he seems to see it, and I wait for him to refuse. But he just continues tracing my back with his finger.

Bending my head ever so slowly, I let our lips meet. His hand behind my back stills, and so do I. I wait for him to ask me to stop, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he sticks his tongue out, and rolls it over my lips, sealing the deal for me.

My hands grow a brain of their own and go behind the back of his head to grip it.

With caution now thrown into the wind, I let my passion unfurl as our lips continue the business of driving us both crazy with need. One of my hands caresses his scar-covered back. Some of these scars I'd felt last night, but not to this extent because he had his shirt on.

Now that there's no barrier between my palm and his skin, I allow my hand to worship him, and each mark stands out under my skin.

It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he managed to get them, but I know his job is a dangerous one. And as already established, he's the type who's always putting himself in danger to save others. He's always been like this, but I have a feeling it's become worse since Justin's death.

“I need you,” he whispers after a while, breaking the kiss and bringing my attention back to him.

He only has to say it once.

I pull the skirt I'm wearing up my thighs, leaving me in only my panties. I look down to see he's released his dick from his shorts, too. I try to pull my panties aside, but it's not easy, so I start to push them off. His hand around my waist tightens, dragging my gaze back to his.

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