Page 58 of Kyle

“I need to get back to my boss. He’ll be looking for me.”

“Really?” He chuckles and brushes a strand of my hair between his fingers.

“Don’t touch me,” I growl, and bat his hand away.

“You’re a feisty one. I was promised a concert series, and instead, I’ve been lying on the cold, damp ground. I think I deserve something soft and warm.” He takes a step toward me.

“I’ll scream.” But I barely get the words out when he moves like lightning and clamps his clammy hand on top of my mouth, pushing me against the rear of the stage.

I try to bite him, but he’s holding my mouth so tightly, I can’t get it open.

He rips at my shirt, tearing the sleeve open and revealing my lace bra underneath.

“Oh yeah, you’re going to be a real treat.” His hot breath rushes in my ear.

He squeezes my breast tightly enough I let out a muffled cry, which seems to excite him. His hand trails down my stomach, and I thrash to get out of his grasp, tears filling my eyes.

He knocks me to the ground and puts his weight on top of me, effectively pinning me.

I manage to get one scream out before he covers my mouth again.

He fumbles with the buttons on my shorts when suddenly, he’s thrown from me.

I scramble backward and get my feet under me.

Kyle looms over the man.

He’s come for me. Thank God.

His eyes sweep over me, drifting to my torn shirt, and fury darkens his eyes.

“Sorry, man, is she yours?” The man staggers to his own feet and walks backward with his hands up. “We were just having a little fun, weren’t we, doll?”

Kyle charges him, throwing a punch that knocks him to the ground. He climbs on top of the guy and pounds into his face until each hit splatters blood, and a sickening crunching sound carries to me.

“Kyle, stop!” I cry, fearful he’s going to kill the man. I don’t want that on my conscience.

He finally stops, leaving the man a bloody heap, and then walks over to me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, just scared.”

“I’ve got you, baby.” He holds my face between his hands. “I got you.”

The tears start to flow, and he pulls me in for a hug. I clutch at him, burrowing into his warm neck.

“Let’s get out of here before somebody comes upon us,” he whispers against my temple. “I’d rather not have to explain anything to the police.”

I dare a peek at the crumpled man on the ground. He’s covered in blood, and I’m not sure he’s breathing.

As we walk back, fear turns to anger. He may have just killed a man.

“What were you thinking, Kyle?” I whirl at him once we’re back in the RV, and he slams the door behind him. “Why did you lose your shit like that? You might have killed him.”

“Why did I lose my shit? Do you honestly not know?”

He stalks across the RV, and I retreat until my back is against the wall. His forearm rests above my head, and his other hand grips my hip. His thumb traces small circles on my bare midriff. I don’t even think he notices, but I feel every sensation tingling through my body.

“Why I never wanted you working with me? Why I can’t stand to be close to you? Because the sweet smell of your hair, like apples and honey, drives me to distraction. Your skin brushing against me singes, because I can feel the velvety softness sending my mind down dark, erotic tunnels I should never venture. I spend every waking moment wanting you to be with me.”

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