Page 67 of Ruthless Salvation
He slowly uncrossed his arms and prowled closer without answering. The sultry wind from his brewing storm filled the room with electricity and heat and uncertainty. I watched with interest as he helped himself to my suitcase, selecting an outfit complete with bra and panties, then rose to join me.
How could a man who spoke so few words convey so much with every little action? Nothing he did was unintentional or superfluous, yet it all seemed so effortless. So natural. As though self-assurance was just another strand of his DNA.
The effect was mesmerizing, intensifying exponentially as he drew closer.
His fingers gently clasped my towel and tugged. Not hard. It was more of a command for me to let go than a move of force. He wanted me to follow his lead.
I shouldn’t have. I needed to keep every barrier raised, both physical and emotional, but my body acted of its own accord and released the thick terry cloth. The burst of cool air on my skin sent a wave of desire flooding the highways and byways of my body. My nipples pebbled into tightly coiled buds as if desperately preening for his attention.
Torin drank up his effect on me, shoulders seemingly growing broader and pupils forcing out all but the outermost ring of his blue irises. He lifted his hand to trail his scarred knuckles over one peak, then gently plucked the sensitive flesh.
I gasped at the unexpected zing of pleasure, liquid desire melting my insides like hot tea over ice.
The clothes he’d held dropped to the floor.
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” I said shakily, though each word was painful to say because, at that moment, I wanted him more than anything in the world.
Tor slowly lowered to a squat, his eyes lifting to mine once he was all the way down. “You don’t even know whatthisis.” His sultry words licked at my skin.
He held out the panties I didn’t realize he’d kept in his hand and waited for me to step into them. I put a hand on his shoulder and followed his lead. He lifted the silk agonizingly slowly, his palms almost surveying my body like a conqueror taking inventory of his new territory. Then he hooked my bra in a finger before standing. I put one arm in each strap when he held it out for me, relishing the way his gaze stroked my skin as real as any physical touch.
“Turn.” His voice grew as coarse as a long-forgotten gravel road.
I obeyed, my body seemingly his to command.
He brought his hands around to my front and ensured the bra cupped me just right, his fingers giving an extra swipe across each stiff peak for good measure before he secured the clasp at my back. I was so desperate for more of his touch that I wanted to weep when he began to slide on my leggings and shirt.
He’d chosen something comfortable, which was sweet, but I wanted to rip the fabric from my body and burn it to ash if it meant an end to his attention. Desire eviscerated every thought in my head beyond carnal need. I was seconds away from begging him to touch me again when the doorbell echoed in the air between us.
I startled a step backward and ran a hand through my wet hair, suddenly embarrassed. What the heck had come over me? Didn’t I have any willpower at all?
“You expecting someone?” My voice was an entire octave above normal.
Way to play it cool, Stormy.
A tiny twitch tightened the corner of his eye. “Rowan insisted on coming over to check on you. Guess I should have specified a time.” He grumbled the last part to himself before walking stiffly from the room.
* * *
I was so touchedthat Rowan had come to see me. However, our budding friendship was the source of yet another stab of regret. Leaving the city would cost me dearly.
“Hey, sunshine! How are you feeling?” Rowan pushed straight past Torin, ignoring him completely.
“I’m surprisingly good, actually. It’s so sweet of you to come by.”
“Of course!” She gave me a whisp of a hug, scared the slightest touch might break me.
Behind us, Keir and Torin greeted one another with a pair of grunts. They said a few quiet words with their heads together, keeping me from hearing, then took their leave to sit at the kitchen table. Rowan and I settled on the sofa. She sat facing me, her entire focus directed at me.
“We don’t need to talk about it,” she said in a rush, “but Keir explained what happened, and I want you to know that I’m happy to help you get out of your lease or move or even give you a place to stay while you find a new place. I can only imagine you wouldn’t want to stay there, and maybe I’m wrong, but just so you know, I’m happy to help however I can. And that’s the last we need to talk about it.” She raised her hand in a pledge.
“That’s sweet of you. I haven’t decided what I’m doing, but I definitely have some thinking to do.” I’d become accustomed to a certain degree of evasion. It wasn’t easy at first, but it had never bothered me like it did now. This didn’t feel like harmless white lies anymore. My lies were blossoming into unadulterated deception, and the accompanying shame crippled me.
“Well, I know what it’s like to feel unsafe. I told you how Keir and I came together, but there was a lot I left out. A lot of scary shit involving sex trafficking, my ex-boyfriend’s psychotic family, and a scarred Russian man we thought wanted me dead. My life was unrecognizable for a while.”
With every thudding beat, my heart ticked its way farther up my throat.
“Scarred Russian?” I asked quietly, almost too afraid to say the words.