Page 21 of Rescued

Kissing Breanna was nothing like Switch expected. He’d expected hot and sexy and holy-shit-give-me-more—but he absolutely hadn’t expected for it to feel so… perfect.

The way she matched up against him, like they’d been made to fit each other. The way she tasted, the scent of her. And the sort of hot sweetness that filled him up, making him want to lose himself in it—do anything to keep it happening.

The sane part of him was trying to tell him this was bad. The two of them were absolutely not meant to be together.

What he really needed to do was get her to someplace that wasn’t a paramilitary compound, where she could go back to her human life chasing money and fame and powerful men.

He pulled slowly away from her.

She looked up at him, doe eyes wide, like she was as surprised as him by the way that felt.

“Um. Yeah.” He took a step back. “That was… um. Unintentional.”

“Right. Me too.” Suddenly she was looking anywhere but at him.

“So. Are you okay? Do I need to, like, kill Boomer or anything? For making you cry?”

She smoothed her hair back awkwardly. “What? No. It wasn’t him. I mean, he was only a little bit threatening. It was just—he and his brother are scary, and the guys outside are scary, and they were fighting and bleeding and then they were naked. And bleeding. And it’s all just so…” She gestured helplessly.

“Yeah. Not the mansions and yachts you’re used to.”

She gave a little laugh that sounded bitter. “Not really used to that stuff,” she said. “Mostly nightclubs. And parties, when we could get invitations.”

So she wasn’t rich—not even a rich boyfriend. Just someone on the outside, trying to get in. “I stand corrected,” he said. Then, hating the lost look in her eyes, he said more gently, “It’ll be okay.”

But he could tell she didn’t feel any better, and he somehow needed to make her feel better. “I brought you clothes,” he said, picking up the duffel bag. “I figured you didn’t want to spend the whole time in just a t-shirt—”

He probably shouldn’t have brought that up, because then he started looking at the way his shirt clung to her boobs and skimmed over her hips, and made her legs look as long as tomorrow, and…

He stared at her legs some more. “Are those my boxers?”

She blushed, like an actual blush, and he could almost feel the heat in her face. It was kind of cute.

“I don’t have any pants,” she said defensively. “I don’t have any clothes at all. And I’m not going to walk around waving my underwear-clad ass in the breeze, no matter how much you might enjoy it.”

She turned away, then obviously realized she actually was showing him her ass, and turned back around. Switch bit back a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “Just give me the clothes.”

He handed over the bag, feeling marginally better now that she had some of her attitude back. “It’s not much—sweats from the storage shed. I got some combat boots I thought might fit, but there’s extra socks in case they’re too big.”

She grabbed a pair of sweatpants and stepped into them, turning partly away from him like she was embarrassed. So he changed the subject by telling her what he’d found out.

“I put out some feelers about Moreno, with my contacts. I want to know his movements, how hard he’s looking for you. It would help if I knew his motivations. Anything you can tell me?”

“Besides that he’s pissed at me for stealing evidence against him?” She still wasn’t looking at him, but it was too late—the doe eyes had already bent him to her will.

He said, “Yeah, but that’s done. He has to know that. So is this just revenge, or do you have more information on him? Something else he has to keep you from telling anyone?”

She was pulling a sweatshirt over her head, so her voice was muffled. “Just what I gave to Marie.” Her head popped out of the collar, her hair mussed and her skin flushed. It made him want to kiss her again, and he looked away. She asked, “Do you think Quentin can find me here?”

“Doubtful. No one knows where you are—not even Marie. She doesn’t even know where my regular home base is, let alone this place. The only way he could possibly track you is with a cell phone. Please tell me you didn’t bring yours.”

She shook her head. “Marie’s people took mine and got rid of it. It was part of the deal.” She hesitated for a minute, then looked up into his face.

“But… this is a protected place, right? I mean, all these soldiers. Even if Quentin could somehow track me, he couldn’t get to me here. Could he?”

Switch didn’t see how. Ricardo de León had tracked his sister to Rockhaven, the town down the mountain, and attacked it with his cartel soldiers, but he was the alpha of their pack and had tracked her psychically, through their wolf bond.