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My gut told me I wasn’t a cop. No, I was something much worse.
The other reason I refused to leave was that her fear had returned, desperate and clawing, the stench of it clogging my pores, even if her delicate and sweet fragrance lingered on my skin.
If I learned who did that horrible thing to her, the bastard would face my wrath.
Sabatino.
My name?
Maybe. I held the magazine Georgia had found in my pocket in my hand, absently running my thumb across it. I’d known what it was instinctively, the ammunition meant for a Glock. Did that mean I was a good guy or a bad guy? I had no way of knowing. The name on the piece of paper could mean anything, but it suited me at least for the purpose of having some kind of identity.
The woman had no reason to be kind to a stranger who’d washed up on her property. Hell, I would have called the police within seconds of seeing some strange asshole wearing a bulletproof vest. I shook my head, staring out as the morning light swept over the horizon. I’d opened the blinds, determined to let some light in, hoping that early morning sun would somehow erase the fog.
It hadn’t.
I was even more confused, including why I felt so comfortable around someone I didn’t even know. I pressed my fingers across my mouth, somehow still managing to taste her soft lips. She’d felt damn good in my arms, her body molding against mine perfectly. As if we were meant to be lovers. The thought was charming but ridiculous. Besides, she remained leery of me and rightfully so. I could be anyone.
Now here I was standing in way too-tight sweatpants and a strange, mauve-colored sweatshirt, grateful that she’d allowed a stranger to stay in her house. She had a child. A dog. A life. What was she doing trusting a stranger? I should pull her across my lap, providing her with a decent spanking for her reckless behavior. I snorted from the thought. Was that how I dealt with naughty women? Maybe so. The strange realization pleased me.
A pain behind my eyes forced me to wince, another vision floating into the forefront of my mind. Another woman. A beautiful day. A… car. I was jerked from the imagery, my body suddenly shaking. She’d been hit by a car. Was that what happened? Nothing was making any sense. None of it. Fuck. I hated this. I raked my hand through my hair, purposefully shoving my thoughts back to Georgia.
She’d made a bed on her couch, our moment of passion ending almost as soon as it had started. I couldn’t blame her. I’d not only barreled my way into her life, I’d also seduced her as if we knew each other.
She’d called to me with her voluptuous body.
When she’d licked her lips nervously as she’d done several times, all I’d been able to think about was what I could and would do with her heart-shaped mouth.
I flexed my fingers, fisting then opening my hand. I’d instinctively wrapped the long digits around her throat as if I owned her. The glance of fear had confused the hell out of me. Was that how I treated a woman, even one who’d made certain I received the help I needed? I couldn’t be certain of that or anything else.
One touch and I’d become restless and hungry for her, refusing to acknowledge the reality that we didn’t know each other. A second touch and the savage man I obviously was had reared his head, requiring me to taste and take her.
Which I’d done without questioning my actions.
She’d wanted it, even if her trepidation had remained.
The thought of the way her soft, delicate lips had yielded to me kept my cock aching. I’d watched her licking her bottom lip and had wanted nothing more to devour her. When our lips had finally collided and I’d buried my hands in her hair, I’d wanted to consume every inch of her. I lifted my arm, flexing my fingers a second time as the memories of holding her lush body in my hands continued to leave a jolt of electricity active and strong.
Her scent lingered on my skin since I’d taken her again in her bedroom. Even her hair had tingled every nerve, the scent earthy yet full of citrus and spice. Hell, my balls were tightening just thinking about her. Her life appeared simple, her actions cautious. The fact she’d held a butcher knife to my neck lingered in the forefront of my mind. I had no way of knowing nor would I ask her, but I had a sense she was fearful for an entirely different reason than my appearance.
I’d seen it in her eyes, a flash of terror that everyone had difficulty hiding. Even her intoxicating fragrance had been infused with the smell of fear. There was no disguising the pungent odor and apparently, it was something I knew quite a lot about. What did that tell me about myself?
I threw a glance at her closed bedroom door and a part of me wanted to wake her on this beautiful morning, ravaging her body all over again.
Fuck. Was that the kind of man I was? How the hell would I know.
I’d walked through the house, even checking on the little boy inside his room. The dog had lifted his head, issuing a slight whine but the moment I’d placed my finger across my lips, he’d lowered his head. There were no pictures of family or friends on her walls and bookshelves. Everything was clean and tidy, the furniture nice but not expensive.
I’d found her purse after she’d gone to sleep, my instinct requiring me to check her identification. Perhaps my instinct had remained concerned she’d lied about her identity. Why would it matter if she had? Her driver’s license had confirmed her name. Georgia Ingalls. She’d been allowed to smile in the picture but even the thumbnail-sized black and white had highlighted fear.
Everything about her was comforting and sweet, yet I sensed something was terribly wrong. In my mind, she had several vulnerabilities, which was what continued to concern me. Even if I didn’t know why. What I didn’t know outweighed what I did, but all I’d needed to do was to gaze at myself in the mirror to know I was in my late thirties or early forties, much older than her twenty-six years on this earth. I wasn’t certain what that mattered either. We weren’t destined to be together. Whatever life I’d lived prior to almost losing it was far removed from here.
Of that I was certain.
Even still, I craved her.
At that moment I had to ask myself what my intentions were. In my mind, it certainly seemed as if they were illicit. I also had a sense that I needed to protect her. Against myself or someone even more dangerous? If I had to guess, I’d say both.
Everything remained in a fog, so much so that I wasn’t certain if I’d ever determine who I was. I’d remained awake as the woman had wanted, staring into the darkness, determined to figure out who I was and why in the hell I was in some lake community. That didn’t seem right to me, even if I could have no way of knowing.
