Page 13 of Marks of Rebellion
"Yes. How did you know?"
"My mom got into a bad wreck when we were kids. She had problems her entire life. You hold your neck how she used to."
"I do?"
"Yes."
Guilt that his mom was actually in an accident and I lied about mine eats at me.
Too late now. I already lied.
"Can I try something?"
I hesitate, unsure what he will do, but allow him. "Okay."
He kneads the curve of my neck.
That feels so good.
His lips move next to my ear. "If I hurt you, tell me, and I'll stop."
"O-okay."
"Stand up for a moment," he directs.
I obey.
He spreads his legs wide and sits farther back on the trunk. He pats the space between his thighs. "Sit."
I stare at him.
Amusement enters his eyes. "I won't bite. Promise."
Please, bite me all you want.
I'm being ridiculous and need to stop. He saved my life. He's safe.
Holy thigh muscles.
Stop ogling him. It isn't helping my current predicament.
I sit.
He takes the blanket, slides it off my shoulders and down my back so it's below my armpits. Then he wraps his arms around me and tugs it tight. His breath is close to my ear, and he murmurs, "Don't want the bugs to get you."
Flutters erupt inside me, and I inhale his delicious scent, taking deeper and deeper breaths, trying to get every bit of it in my lungs.
He's an intoxicating piece of perfection who oozes rugged sexuality. But I've been wrong about men before.
Carlos is good-looking, and that got me nothing but sorrow.
Hunter is bigger than Carlos. He could really damage me if he wanted to.
He wouldn't do that.
I don't know what he would or wouldn't do. I never thought Carlos would hurt me when I first met him.
What if my judgement is off again?
