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“Sit down, dammit.”

I sighed and sunk back onto the couch. “It’s on the table out on the deck.”

He hurried out and came back with the mask in hand. “This?”

“He was wearing that in the hospital too. I was high as hell, and it looked way more sinister. His eyes are a really light gray too.”

“You saw that?”

“More like remembered it. I think he might have been wearing contacts the night he attacked me. I can’t be sure, but the light kept hitting his eyes like two voids. I still dream about them.”

He crouched in front of me. “Anything else?”

I closed my eyes against the intensity in his gaze. The attack was such a blur. “I just remember running and then he cracked my head into something. The ground? I’m not sure. I just know I was out for a while.”

He covered my hand, and I held onto him.

“The same fingers that scratched my arm. They were so strong. The ropes...” I shuddered. “He was so mad that I was unconscious.” I opened my eyes and met his gaze. “He wanted me awake. Wanted me to hurt.” Tears clogged my throat. “Those eyes were so excited. Black eyes.”

“It’s okay.” He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re safe.”

I lifted my hand to his face. “Safety Locke.”

His eyes were fierce and full of secrets. I wanted to know all of them. I shouldn’t have leaned in. I was still riding the high of the adrenaline and memories that tumbled out. But I needed something other than the all-encompassing fear.

I needed to taste all that fierce, locked-down man.

He sucked in a breath at the first touch of our lips. He froze and there was no reaction.

Mistake.

Abort.

He didn’t want this.

I leaned back. “Sorry. I?—”

His fingers speared into my hair, and he dragged me back in and took my mouth like a fever. Like crossing every line was going to send us both to hell.

I dragged in a breath through my nose and the moan that fluttered between us seemed to feed him. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t caring.

He overwhelmed me, and each swipe of his tongue was more like him dragging my taste into his mouth. Like he couldn’t get enough.

He stood, drawing me up with him as his arm snaked around my back to hold me tight. My arms twined around his shoulders, my fingers teasing along the short shorn hairs up to the choppy layers then back down as the kiss became an assault on all my senses.

His thumb drifted over my chin down to my throat and I instinctively opened for a deeper taste.

His fingers lightly wreathed my throat before sliding around the back to my neck, holding me possessively.

Holding me still as the kiss cooled to light swipes of his tongue.

I swayed in his arms, wanting more.

But he was already pulling back.

Not that hand though.

That possessive hand stayed, and the warm rush started there and flowed out along every inch of me.