Page 8 of Blast from the Past

“I didn’t know,” he says. “I never meant to upset you. Or hurt you.”

“Then explain it to me,” I demand in a whisper. “Because I don’t understand, I never have.” It takes everything in me to keep the pain out of my voice and to keep the tears burning in my eyes from falling. I have always hated crying.

Shane looks conflicted right before he presses his lips to mine.

Chapter Five

Shane Blake

I do the one thing I know I shouldn’t. The one thing I have been craving for years. I kiss her. No, I don’t kiss her, I consume her. I take what I want, fully expecting her to push me away. Instead, she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

All rational thoughts leave my mind as all the blood in my body rushes south. Pressing her against the wall I savor the feeling of every curve she has, as they mold perfectly against the hardness of my body. A mewling sound escapes her, and I swear to every deity I have ever heard of I will not be able to live another damn day without hearing her make that sound again.

But I pull back. Because I need to. Because if I really want to claim the only woman that has ever held my heart, I need to think with my brain and not my damn dick. However tempting that may be.

I cradle her face in my palms, taking in the flush of color on her cheeks and the harsh rise and fall of her breasts. It’s nice to know I’m not putting myself out there and she doesn’t feel the same.

“We need to talk,” I say. My voice is husky and low.

“Okay,” she says, keeping her eyes closed.

“Let me take you to dinner and we can have a decent conversation.”

“We can’t do that here? Now?” she asks. She finally opens her eyes to stare up at me and the confusion she is feeling is painted across her features.

“No,” I say, taking a step away from her. “We need to have this conversation in a public place so I know it will actually happen.”

“As opposed to?” I can hear the anger in her tone already.

“Me thinking of every way I can fuck you against the wallbecause I know no one is coming to see this building anytime soon,” I bite back.

“Oh.” The word falls from her lips in a squeak.

“Yeah. Oh,” I repeat, rolling my eyes.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asks softly, and I can’t help but level her with a look.

“Fuck, no. But if we are going to do this, you can be damn sure I will be doing it the right fucking way.”

A soft smile curves her lips. “Fine. You can pick me up at seven.”

I nod, not wanting to argue. I’m supposed to see Charlotte tonight. But I will move the appointment to another time. She doesn’t want to see me anyway.

Mercy walks up to me and kisses my cheek before walking out of the building into the blinding summer sun. I watch her get into her car and drive away before I allow the panic that has been building to take over. Fuck, I need a drink.

****

Mercy West

I spend the rest of the day obsessing over the best kiss of my fucking life. I have no idea how to even start putting into words what Shane Blake did to me, but I hope he does it again.

Twenty minutes before my date, I finally pull into the driveway of my mother’s house—my house—and unload the bags from my car. I got a new outfit and some shoes to match after getting my hair done at the only salon in town.

On my porch step is a little white box with a red bow that sets my heart aflutter. Did Shane leave me a gift?

Quickly, I drop all the bags on the little kitchen table before retrieving the little box and closing the front door. Taking a seat at the kitchen counter I carefully undo the bow beforelifting the lid.

For a moment my mind is blank, and I can’t quite process what I am seeing. But that doesn’t last long before the box slips from my fingers and lands on the counter. My hands tremble as fear flows through my veins. I bite back the tears that threaten to fall as a knock sounds on my door.

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