Page 20 of Taken By the Bounty Hunter

Maybe he can teach me things.

I shiver as my arms circle his neck, and I melt against the solid wall of protection.

Jefferson exhales a low, satisfied hum, his breath wafting through my hair. He briefly lets go of my hips and lets one hand play in my locks, while the other caresses my spine. Slowly. Intimately. Making me sink deeper into him.

“I knew you’d be a good hugger, Jefferson,” I sigh.

Another low, luxuriating hum is followed by the words, “I’ve never been accused of that before.”

I giggle against his shoulder, which gets me a squeeze. Sparks shoot through me at every new touch, every possessive squeeze. “Then your previous girlfriends should have spoken up.”

He grunts. “No one asked for hugs. No one stuck around long enough for this sort of thing.”

This sort of thing? Hugs? Tenderness? It’s too painful to comprehend. I lean back. “No one? Not even one?”

Jefferson strokes one long lock of hair that falls next to my face, then tucks it behind my ear. It stubbornly falls away again, and he smiles. But there’s something hurt behind his grin. “My life has not been what you would call warm and fuzzy,” he says.

I nod thoughtfully, and his rugged expression softens. “Shit. I shouldn’t have said that,” he says.

“Said what?”

He looks down in embarrassment, shaking his head. “I can’t compare my life to yours. It wouldn’t be right.”

I see. Jefferson feels guilty for bringing up whatever hardships he’s experienced because he doesn’t think they can compare to my own.

“Listen. My life sucks. Your life sucks. But now we’re together, and it doesn’t suck quite as much,” I say.

It’s a bold thing to say. It assumes a lot.

Sure, he’s mentioned multiple times that he’s not letting me out of his sight. But that does not necessarily imply we’re an item. It definitely does not mean we’re a permanent item. It just communicates that he cares, which is more than enough.

He is enough for now. And this moment of rare physical tenderness offers enough momentary joy to last me a lifetime.

His touch travels slowly, deliberately back down to my hips, gently gripping the flesh there.

“It definitely does not suck having you here with me. I tried hugging Joaquin, but he’s not much of a hugger. He’s more of a headlock sort of guy.”

I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Don’t worry. He won’t put you in a headlock. Unless you don’t clean up after you use the kitchen.”

I inhale deeply, inhaling Jefferson’s scent of leather and spicy soap. I exhale out the misery of the last month, letting go of the cold and the grit and the loneliness.

“If your roommate is concerned about having an extra person around, just know that I can cook and bake. I can clean. I am really good at organizing and I’m very thrifty. I can make a couple of two-dollar cabbages last for three meals and…”

Jefferson’s bracing hands pull me closer, eliciting a gasp from me as something rigid presses against my core. My cheeks heat when I realize what that is.

He is a man with a massive erection.

I grow warm and strangely wet.

Jefferson is so close that his nose touches the tip of mine when he shakes his head in exasperation. “You gotta stop talking about cabbage.”

It’s hard to laugh, and it’s harder to keep babbling when Jefferson’s lips are on mine, his steady hands holding me against him so tightly I could not pull away if I wanted to.

Chapter Six

Jefferson

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