He glances at the door, his eyes narrowing. “Goddamn bellend.”
I snort a laugh, half amused at the word, half amused that I know it means dick. “I think he was just trying to protect you.”Now that the haze of fear has cleared, I can see it a bit more objectively.
“He’ll need protectionfromme if I see him anytime soon.” He glowers. He’s good at that—glowering.
“I was just taken off guard. He came in here, and it made me think of?—”
“You don’t have to say the bastard’s name, lass. It’s as dead as he is.”
I nod, finally feeling my lungs getting full. When I rise, Hook uncrosses his arms. “Stay there,” I tell him.
He smirks. “Is that an order?”
“Sure.” I go into the bathroom—and avoid looking in the mirror—grab a cloth and wet it. When I return to him, I reach up and dab it along the bloodied edge of his nose.
He lets out a slow breath and puts his hands behind him like a soldier standing at ease.
“Does it hurt?” I keep wiping away the blood.
“Which part?”
“What do you mean?” I wipe the last of the blood from him.
He takes the cloth from me, our fingers touching for a few moments longer than necessary. “Nothing, lass. You should get some rest. I can have Widow bring your supper.”
“No way. I’m tired of being cooped up in bed.” When I look up at him, I realize I’m too close. Way too close. But I can’t seem to move away. He’s been drawing me toward him from the moment we met. Like a lighthouse—which means I should be getting asfar away from him as possible. He’s danger, a rocky shoreline promising regret and ruin.
His gaze strays to my mouth.
I want him to kiss me.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore.
I want to know if this thing between us is real.
“Lass.” His voice is a gravel pit. “If you keep looking at me like that …” His words trail away as he runs the back of his fingers down my cheek, then lower to my throat where they play at my collarbone.
Just that little touch lights a fire inside me. Something about him, about the way he looks at me like I’m more than just a woman caught up in a world where she doesn’t belong. He looks at me like he’s hungry for me, like he knows me from some ancient world in another lifetime where the two of us were joined in every way two humans can be.
“What?” I move closer, my chest brushing against his as I tilt my head farther back. “What will happen?” I dart my tongue out and wet my lips.
His breath catches, and he leans down and kisses me hard, his hands going to my waist as he yanks me against him.
I squeak and grab his shoulders as he presses his tongue along the seam of my mouth. When I open and he delves inside, my entire body turns into liquid. I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he leans me back, his tongue stroking mine as he reaches down and grips one of my thighs, bringing it up to his hip.
When he turns me and presses me against the wall, I moan. He swallows the sound, his rough kiss full of urgency and heat. I’ve never been kissed like this. I don’t even know what it is. It’s like another language, one that Hook speaks directly to my soul. He devours me, sucking my tongue and gripping the back of my neck with his hand. Angling my head, he tongues me deeper, a groan lofting from him as he presses his hard length against my sex.
I’m wet for him, my body open and wanting, begging for more from this man of nightmare and myth. It’s wrong. Everything about him is dark and tarnished, but I want him all the same. I can’t stop, not when he kisses me with a fierceness that turns my blood into lava and my mind into a writhing pit of filthy desires.
When he reaches between my legs and cups my sex, I whimper, and when he rubs my throbbing clit, I gasp. He finally relinquishes my mouth and kisses to my throat, sucking my skin between his teeth, his rough beard scratching against my flesh. What would it feel like on my thighs? I shudder at the image of him between my legs, his deep blue eyes on me.
“Hey, we’re doing a barbecue out back if you—” Widow’s voice dies away as she opens the door to my room.
Hook lets out a growl that’s more animal than man.
“Oh, shit.” Widow slams the door.
I take a breath and try to remember myself. But I can’t. All I can do is stare at Hook, at my savior, at my killer, at my avenger, at my kidnapper, at the man I can’t seem to figure out.
