Page 30 of Accidental Abduction

I shouldn’t know what it felt like to slide into her body and know that it’d nevereveronce felt that good to be inside a woman.

And I sure as fuck shouldn’t know that there was a deep, hungry, primal part of myself that wanted to do it all again.

My cock flexed as I walked into the bathroom, and I glared at the traitorous appendage. “This is your fault.”

The emergency lantern cast ominous shadows across the small room, the mirror still covered in the condensation that had built up while Charley had been in the shower. Naked. Wet. Running her fingers over the marks I’d left on her body because I’d craved seeing a fleeting reminder of what it felt like to touch her last night like some craved the high of a drug.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed as I used my palm to clear the mirror, staring into my face.

While my mind felt overwhelmed, my face looked relaxed, the bags that were usually dark underneath my eyes softened and my eyes looking brighter than I’d seen them in months.

Running my hand through my chaotic hair, I tried to resist the urge to turn. But I failed, taking in the long scratches that covered my lower back from her nails. And I also failed to block out the way it’d felt to have her hands on me, to have her lips on me—just as hungry for me as I was for her.

That kind of animalistic attraction was rare, and if I was completely honest with myself. I’d never felt it before...not until last night.

Even when I’d pulled her against me on the dance floor, I felt the electric spark, and it’d just built exponentially with every touch until I’d filled the condom—I’d thankfully put on last night—with my cum.

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Charley, but the last thing I needed right now was to accidentally kidnap my sister’s best friend and then get her pregnant.

Even though I wanted to turn the water on hot enough to scald my skin, I settled for a more tepid temperature, knowing that I needed to conserve the amount of electricity the hot water heater used from the generator.

Closing my eyes under the spray of the water, unbidden images of last night flashed through my mind. And the more that I recalled, the more I realized I should have known from the start that it was Charley I was touching.

Maybe some hidden part of myself had known and done it anyway. Maybe the attraction that I’d denied to Reid was real. Maybe I’d been unknowingly watching her for months, wanting to touch her. Maybe this attraction had started the first time I heard the creak of the bed that’d once been mine in the room above my office. And maybe I’d burned with jealousy when I heard some other man coaxing moans out of her.

Knowing I had to finish up and go face Charley, who I was going to be trapped with for the next few days, I washed my body quickly, avoiding the part of myself that was throbbing.

But the lure was too great, and I stroked myself with a desperation I couldn’t control. And when I came, it was to the thought that before we left, I wanted to come inside her again, I wanted it to be bare, and I wanted to look into her eyes when it happened—knowing it was her.

Guilt consumed me as I dried myself, only growing as I pulled open the drawers of my dresser, cursing when I realized I hadn’t replaced the clothes in it since I was in high school. After rifling through the drawers, I realized there wasn’t anything that’d fit me except for a pair of flannel pajama pants.

Knowing I’d stalled long enough, I grabbed the rumpled clothing off the floor beside my bed, and made my way to the laundry room, tossing Charley’s clothing into the washer. I passed Hazel’s bedroom on the way down the hallway, searching for my shirt on the floor, but I had a feeling Charley was still wearing it.

My suspicion was confirmed when I paused at the open kitchen door, watching her turn a pancake over on the griddle covering the gas stovetop. A full pot of coffee sat on the counter beside her with two mugs, and she already had a covered plate full of what smelled like bacon.

“Do you want chocolate chips?” she asked, not looking in my direction. I wondered if she felt the same sensation whenever I was near that I’d noticed over the last few months.

“I didn’t buy any,” I replied, leaning against the doorframe to watch her work.

She turned in my direction, flashing me a teasing wink. “I know where the secret stash is kept.”

Her eyes drifted to my bare chest, lingering in a way that I knew would turn me on if she wasn’t careful. “I thought we needed to cover up. Walking around shirtless, clearly not wearing underwear doesn’t seem like accomplishing that goal, Hudson.”

“The only T-shirts in my drawers are too tight. And I wasn’t exactly in the mood for an ugly sweater.” I was avoiding the missing underwear, because I’d wrenched it off after I’d tugged it on, deciding if she didn’t need to wear any, neither did I.

“We both know you would have put it on if you were so determined to hide from me.”

Changing the subject before I needed to hide something else from her, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“You didn’t have to cook for me.” And now I felt guilty that I hadn’t thought to feed her. It was the least I could do after what I put her through last night. But I hadn’t slept that hard in years.

“We both need to eat. Seemed selfish to only make myself something. And I wanted to.” She averted her eyes back to the pancakes, but there was no disguising the blush on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was low, but I knew she heard me when her body stiffened, her hands dropping to grip the edge of the counter.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

In the bright sunlight streaming through the windows facing the woods behind the cabin, I scanned her body, each new visible mark adding to my guilt. “I hurt you.”

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