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She’s still crying, so how can she be okay?
“Gia—” I hate it when women cry, and I usually take it as a sign for me to walk away, but with Gia, I want to hold her close—to comfort her.
What the hell is going on?
Lifting her head, Gia looks at me, sniffles and pushes out of my arms looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” She won’t meet my eyes. “I don’t usually do that.”
I have no idea how to handle her now so I ask, “You ready to get outta here?”
Gia nods.
Taking her by the arm, I lead her back to the room we’d showered in earlier knowing I won’t be having a shower this time.
“Here.” Gia passes my clothes to me before grabbing my arm. “I’m sorry about that out there. I don’t usually get so emotional… It just hurts knowing Summer and some of the others won’t be here by Christmas.” Her eyes fill with tears again, but she shakes it off this time.
“I’m going to dress. I suggest you do the same so we can get you some fresh air. Do not leave this room without me.”
“I won’t.” She smiles. Her first full faced smile directed at me. My heart drops to my knees.
“I thought you were going to get dressed.” Gia walks past me and enters a stall.
“I am,” I reply moving my ass into the stall next to Gia.
She has me acting like an idiot. One smile. One touch and I lose my objective. Gia is a beauty?
?my wildcat.
Fully dressed, I slip my feet back into my boots and step out of the stall only to catch sight of a tattoo peeking out from the top of Gia’s waistband as she’s stretching up to a high shelf.
Caught staring, I smirk as Gia pulls the band up, concealing the tattoo again.
I wonder what kind of tattoo she has. How big it is? What area it covers? Is it just over her hip, or does it go near her butt or pussy? Licking my lips, I meet her gaze again and grin at the flush on her face.
Walking over to Gia, I lean close to her ear and tease, “I was wondering whether or not your tattoo goes close to your butt or pussy.” I bite her earlobe and feel her shiver as she slips her hand into the back of my jeans, and presses me close to her.
All the blood rushes straight to my cock, which springs to life with her nearness. I’m surrounded by her scent—her touch, but fuck, we’re still in the hospital and I can’t do what I want to her. I inhale and cup Gia’s face in my hands.
“You’re driving me crazy.” I rest my forehead against Gia’s. “I can’t think straight when I’m close to you, and I need too. I’ve never been so distracted on a job. Your life depends on me being focused.” I bring her in for a hug and place a kiss on her forehead.
I know what I have to do, but I’m not all that sure I have the strength to follow through—to trust someone else with her safety.
8
Gia
It has been a week since I’d been attacked in my bedroom—a week since my life changed. At first I’d been afraid to leave the house, but having my friends and Hunter with me, I’d put on a brave face. But now I feel as though I’ve been abandoned.
Ivy and Parker have been told that it will be best to stay away until the problem has been resolved, and Hunter—tears fill my eyes when I think about him. I really thought we had a connection. At the hospital I’d caught him watching me with longing written all over his face. At least that’s what I thought.
The following day I’d walked downstairs looking forward to spending the day with him again only to be introduced to Chris. He’s older than Hunter and works for the US Marshals office. Hunter hasn’t said anything to me, but I presume he called someone else in because he doesn’t feel he can protect me due to our attraction. It would have been nice to be told, instead of having it shoved in my face.
Hunter has used the excuse to my father that Julian had to get back to base so it made more sense for him to be on my father and Chris to be on me.
I hate it. I hate seeing Hunter every morning and evening and not being able to talk to him in private. I miss his crooked, just-for-me smile, and I miss having his body pressed tight against mine. He hardly glances in my direction anymore and it hurts.
I miss seeing him so much that I find myself at my bedroom window watching him on his bike. I practically drool when he sits astride it. Every time, he slides his helmet over his head and then looks straight up to my window. I’ve no idea whether or not he can see me when he does but I still feel that connection—like I’m burning up under the heat of his gaze. He looks for what feels like hours, but is only a few seconds before he guns the throttle and shoots down the drive. Day in and day out, I watch him do this and it’s driving me insane. He’s left me frustrated as hell.
Being alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. There is the peace and quiet. But that’s all. I’ve told Chris that I’m planning on staying home, but being in my bedroom where the attack took place is playing tricks on my mind. I keep seeing the knife in front of my face as he grabbed me from behind. I can still feel the grip he had around my waist to keep me pinned to the front of him. The bastard had been aroused and had no trouble rubbing himself against me. He’d made me want to hurl while putting the fear of god in me.
