Page 14 of Hot for Hostage

“Allow me.” He held out a hand. Flustered, I placed the gun in his waiting palm without a second thought, and one side of his mouth curled up. His hands moved faster than I could see, and he slid the top back and then forward with a satisfyingclick. Then he checked a few other settings before holding it out. “Good to go.”

It was impressive, and I made a mental note to look up videos on how to handle a gun once I got home.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the gun back. He was turning out to be quite useful.

I went to slip the weapon back in my overalls, but apparently Davian wasn’t finished pushing the boundaries of acceptable hostage behavior yet. His hand gently covered mine on the gun. “Here, I can help with this, too.”

Frozen in place, I couldn’t get my throat to work as he closed even more of the distance between us.

My nose was close enough to brush the front of his fine suit, but he leaned to the side to get a look around the front of my overalls. His brow furrowed. “Where did you hide it earlier—in your underwear?”

“No!” My head reeled back in alarm. “The pockets are too small, but there’s a little loop of denim here. It sort of fits in it.”

He followed to where I pointed, and my cheeks burned. Could he see my underwear from that angle? Surely the overalls were tight enough at my waist to hide them.

Davian maneuvered the gun into the loop I’d pointed out, and it rested snugly in front of my hip. There was nothing comfortable about it, but the way his fingers brushed the sliver of skin peeking out from under my shirt had me holding my breath.

His hand lingered after he’d hidden the gun. It traced over my overalls and up my side in a torturously slow caress that sent my heart racing before he reached the overall strap at my collarbone.

I didn’t dare breathe. “…Davian?”

He grunted and tugged both straps until my overalls were tight against me. I sucked in a breath, finally working up the nerve to look up at his face.

Davian’s lips tilted up into a devastating smile, and my stomach somersaulted.

“Just making sure it’s secure,” he murmured.

I swallowed, convinced he could hear my heart thundering in my chest with how close we stood.

“How’s that?” His fingers lingered on a strap, and he didn’t make any move to step back.

“Good,” I squeaked out, praying my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. He threw me off balance. Was it normal to feel butterflies around one’s hostage?

There should be an instruction manual for this.

I took a big step away from Davian. Maybe some space would cool off whatever completely inappropriate reaction I was having to him.

He let his arm drop and cocked a dark brow at me before eyeing the building with a frown. “You said you work here, right?”

“I’m a volunteer.” I crouched to pick up a crumpled fast-food bag from the sidewalk. “My culinary school is on summer break, so I spend most of my time here with the dogs.”

I tossed the trash into a bin, then paused. It probably wasn’t a good idea to give a hostage personal details about myself, especially since I planned to set him free after we got Bear back. What if he held the abduction against me and sought revenge?

“Can you pretend I didn’t just say that, please?” I winced. “I don’t think it was smart to tell you.”

But Davian’s gaze was dead serious when I looked at him. “You can tell me anything, Sadie.”

Yeah, right.

I tried to shake off the stupid weightlessness his words gave me. “Not really. If what Gladys said is true, then you’ll probably hunt me down and slit my throat after I set you free.”

I really hadn’t thought this through before grabbing his friend’s gun.

“There won’t be any throat-slitting,” Davian said, far too calmly, before adding with a small smirk, “It’s not really my style.”

I gulped. Was it too messy? Whatwashis style?

Maybe it was best not to ask.

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