Page 78 of Dangerous Mission
When his hand slides around the back of my neck, warm and strong, I have to bite my lip and close my eyes.
Don’t fall apart.
Don’t.
Just breathe.
Adam’s never going to hurt me again. My brother’s not really mad, he’s just been through a tough time. I’m safe.
But when Scout whispers, “Hey, beautiful,” in a husky tone, I lose the battle.
I fall forward into his arms, burying my face against the strength of his chest.
His heart is pounding below my ear. His breath comes and goes in slow, deep rounds that send heat fanning over my ear, down my neck, softening the constriction in my lungs.
His hand glides over my hair, cups my head to him. “I shouldn’t have stopped the truck.”
I fist his shirt in one hand as I press my other hand against the heat of his back. “It’s not your fault, but I can’t understand what is up with Griff. He’s completely unhinged when it comes to you.”
“He has his reasons.”
Scout’s thumb brushes over my cheek, catching a tear.
That’s when awareness comes slamming into me. I’m touching Scout. He’s touching me. I’m equal parts alarmed and relieved.
Nervous, I might do the wrong thing, I ask, “Are you okay with me hugging you?”
Scout’s body shifts, his hand wraps around my jaw and he tips my face up. Those pale, fascinating eyes are charged with emotion, and I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me, as if he's teetering on the edge of something dangerous.
For a beat, I'm not sure if he's going to kiss me or walk away without a word.
Then he steals my thoughts by leaning closer.
He angles his head as he inhales deeply as if he’s about to freedive. Then he’s crashing into me, commanding me to open for him with the tip of his tongue.
A rough sound vibrates his chest and slides down mythroat as he presses his tall body against me, pinning me against the truck.
The coarse hair of his beard scrapes deliciously against me. The weight of his pelvis crushes against mine as the length of his cock grows.
He kisses me so hard, so wildly, that I wonder if I might come just from the ferocity of the way he’s devouring me.
Then he’s gone. I’m panting. And he’s clutching the back of his neck, looking at the sky. “Fuck.”
I lick my bruised lips.
Heart skipping, core throbbing, I almost laugh at the absurdity of the moment. But something about the way he looks is deeply unsettling.
“Is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?”
He doesn’t even reply to my question, or remark about me saying the word I told him I’d prefer he wouldn’t use. He sweeps me off my feet and tosses me into the driver's side of the truck.
“We need to talk.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
There’s a distinct feeling of falling in my stomach as if I’m slipping below the smooth surface of the water into the current of some unseen, unknown force.
Aria looks shell shocked.