Page 32 of Ace
Leaning into the door jamb, Keller opened the door just enough to peer through the crack.
Savannah couldn’t see past his broad shoulder or arm. But the way his jacket slipped open, revealing his swamp dampened shirt, and the way that shirt rippled against the taut muscles it encased...Sweet Mother Mary.It took every last bit of control not to flatten her other hand to his belly—just to touch him again—to feel those solid abs. Everything about this guy warmed her insides and other places. “Is anyone out there?” she squeaked.
The tick in his jaw jumped as he studied the lawn between here and the deck off the rear of her house. “We won’t know until we’re outside.”
Savannah could’ve stood there for the rest of her life. No man had ever cared for her like Keller did. So what if he was just doing his job? If this stolen moment of semi-intimacy was all she’d ever have of him, so be it. She’d relish it as long as it lasted, and when it was over, long after he’d left Louisiana and gone back to Washington, DC, it’d be one of those rare memories she’d tell her kids about in years to come. Maybe her grandkids, too, though fat chance of having any of either. A gal needed a social life that included adult men rather than just rescued animals and birds if she wanted to end up with children. A date once in a while would be nice.
So yeah. She swallowed hard and faced her truth. This stolen moment with all her dogs watching was as good as it was going to get.
“Promise you’ll do as I asked,” Keller growled, still not looking at her. Still wound as tight as the homerun pitch in the last game of World Series playoffs.
Always.“Yeah. Sure,” she breathed against his neck. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Tucking her tighter against his body, he shoved the door open.
And they ran.
She kept her head down.
He kept her moving.
Just as they reached the steps up to her deck, he grabbed hold of the railing and stopped cold. She felt ittoo. A strong, hard mental push, this one from Keller, restraining her. Tugging her backward. “Stop!” he ordered as he whirled around, his pistol aimed alongside the right of the barn. “Shit. Get down, Savannah. Don’t watch!”
Watch what?She crouched, frightened but not sure what she wasn’t supposed to watch, him shooting someone or him dying. Either way, she could not obey that order. Until she felt the hundredth-of-a-second inhale at her back. Until her modest, I-built-it-myself house sucked in upon itself and—
WHOOSH!
Savannah ducked, her hands over her ears and her eyes closed as the house she’d turned into a home some four years back belched out a thunderous stream of dragon fire over her head.
Keller tackled her to the patio like a linebacker nailing the winning quarterback. His broad, muscular body took the brunt of the debris hurtling over them. Shards of splintered wood and broken glass. Dust of sheetrock. Ragged remnants of the brand-new curtains that had, just seconds before draped the sliders, pummeled her cheek and the backs of her hands, now wrapped around Keller’s waist.
He had to be pulverized by now. Yet still he blanketed her, on his belly like a penitent, his thick arms tucked around her head, shielding her face and eyes. His elbows dug into the concrete patio, his fingers interlocked over her hair. Blessing her. Keeping her from harm. Saving her yet again.
“My house,” she cried even as she rubbed her nose over his collarbone. “My birds! I have to—”
“Stay down,” her very own guardian angel hissed even as he raised his face from the crown of her head to glare at the backyard, now littered with burning debris.
Savannah had no choice but to lie flat, pressed to her back like she was. Closing her eyes, she sought after the soft flutter of worried cockatoo wings and the shrill shriek of panicked parrot voices for reassurance. The birds had been frightened by the noise, but overall, they weren’t worried. The explosion had been noisy, but it was confined to the rear of her house, not the entire structure. Which meant someone had planned it to go off when she and Keller entered the rear door. And that someone was still watching.
She found it hard to focus when her cup felt suddenly filled to overflowing instead of empty. But it was true. Ever since she’d met Keller, her life seemed—more. More unpredictable. More dangerous.
There was a reason they kept being thrown into each other’s arms. It was as if some cosmic energy was afoot in the universe, and they were destined to spend time together. She was his and he was hers, and she knew it. She could almost see Gran Mere’s coy smiling face.
Savannah couldn’t have let go of Keller if she’d tried. She found herself presented with the impressive underside of Keller’s neck and chin. Her treacherous fingertips curled against the pad of her thumb, fighting her need to stroke the tawny panther hulking over her. Maybe scratch behind his ear. Listen to him purr. Or growl.
Yet even if this were nothing more than a deliciously dangerous wet dream, Savannah was content to lay there, pressed against the hard concrete by this stern, unyielding man. Especially now that she knew her birds were still safe and accounted for.
Everything about Keller declared king of the jungle. He was the epitome of masculine power. Sleek, hard, and lethal. Like a big cat on the hunt, he bristled with deadly intent, ready to pounce. If her burning home were the sun, he was its core, hot and ready to lash out with a flare so powerful it would incinerate whoever had dared destroy her home. But where was his gun? She turned her head enough to see the pistol clutched in his right hand, his index finger curled into the trigger guard.
Lifting one hand, she cupped Keller’s jaw to calm the rage shuddering off him. Tantalizingly aware how his hips cradled hers, of the impressively hot and solid steel spike digging into her belly, she breathed into his ear, “Do you see anyone out there?”
“No, but I can sense them. Him. There’s just one,” Keller growled as he stuck his chin toward the barns. “Can’t you hear the dogs? They’re frightened, but they know he’s out there, too.”
She honestly couldn’t hear her dogs, not with the wall of Keller’s arms bracing her head. Certainly not after his voice turned into the sexiest baritone she’d ever heard. It rendered her deaf and blind the second it struck her tympanic nerves, right before it cascaded over the rest of her instinctive, feminine receptors. Her nipples stood up like tiny cheerleaders, pressed hardagainst the flat wall of masculine muscle, giving him a rowdy,‘Rah! Rah! Rah!’
Adrenaline was indeed a heady aphrodisiac. It not only blinded a woman, but it tempted Savannah to do things she wouldn’t ordinarily dream of doing. Like ripping his clothes off. Biting him. Everywhere. Here. Now. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly gone crazy with desire, beating to get out. To climb all over him. Into him. While her house still burned.
Lying there inside the all-encompassing barricade of his arms, pressed beneath his slightly sweaty, testosterone-amped body, with her ear against his thundering heart, Savannah found herself bursting with ten gallons of pure lust. She was that hidden, barren cove on a lonely dark shore. He was the crest of the incoming tide with silvery ribbons of moonlight laced on its crest. Surging over her. Gushing into her. Drowning her in a heady, swirling sensation of—life.
