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Chapter Eight
Easton was momentarily stunned by Kinley’s omission. She was drawn to him and felt the same indescribable connection that he did. With every step she took toward him, the reasons why coming together on a physical level was a terrible idea fled from his mind. His stomach clenched and tumbled as her hands skimmed up his abs, worked their way over his chest. Just that slight bit of contact had him rock hard and trembling. There was no way to hide his attraction. Not with gym shorts on and her hips flush against his. He lowered his head at the same time as she came up on her tippy toes. Their lips feathered together, gentle at first, testing. Then her tongue licked the seam of his mouth, and lightning crackled through him, jolting straight to his groin.
Fuck, this woman lit him up like a power surge. Heat like this was bound to explode at some point. His movements were clumsier than usual as he fought the urge to grind his hips against her. Her fingers were buried in his hair, hands anchoring the tilt of his head so she could control the depth and intensity of the kiss. He was happy to indulge her. In fact, with just one taste of her pretty mouth, he was starting to wonder if there was anything Kinley could ask for that he wouldn’t give. How could he stay objective and keep her safe when she was turning him inside out?
Every time his hands brushed just below her breasts, she moaned into his mouth. God, he wanted her. Wanted her with an intensity that scared the shit out of him. They were both broken in ways that never really healed. He recognized her trauma, had lived through his own version of hell. How many times did he have to remind himself he was here to help her, not fuck her? Maybe that was part of the problem. The feeling that if they crossed a line, it would never be just mindless sex. Kinley touched him on an emotional level, and he couldn’t go there. To move past the betrayal of someone close to him—his own goddamn mother—letting her strung-out boyfriends beat on and abuse him and his brother—he’d forced himself to go numb. He buried that shit deep. Locked it down so tightly that those feelings of shame and betrayal could never resurface. If this thing went any further with Kinley and his heart got involved, all those emotions would come bubbling outward. He’d already thought of his past way too much since offering to help the woman driving him to the point of insanity with her sexy sighs and clever tongue.
With gentle hands, he gripped her shoulders to steady her and stepped back. They were both breathing hard. Kinley’s lips were rosy from kissing him, her expressive eyes wide with shock and lust. At least he wasn’t alone.
“Goddamn, Kins.” His breath was still ragged, and he couldn’t prevent himself from cupping one side of her face. From skimming his thumb up her cheekbone. Fuck, did it feel good to have her lean into his touch. This was a woman who didn’t trust easily. Who was hellbent on maintaining her independence. She was giving him a bit of both though, and he’d never been more humbled. “That was—”
“Dangerous.” She sighed and straightened her head, then took a step back, leaving his hand suspended mid-air. He dropped it to his side. “I can’t afford to get sidetracked. It might cost me my life. Your life.”
She’d picked her words carefully—mine and yours. Two separate lives with different paths. Until he’d met Kinley, he’d been all right being alone. Hell, he’d thrived on it. So why did it burn through his insides that she didn’t say it could cost them their lives? After this was over, she fully expected to go back to the way things were before she’d asked for his help. The problem was that things were starting to get complicated for him. He didn’t know what to do about it, so he took a step back. Better to analyze and assess than jump right into the fire he’d never be able to crawl out of.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and I trust you to have my back.” And he did. No one would get the drop on either of them—unless they were too wrapped up in each other to sense impending danger. Another reason to keep things as professional as possible with the beautiful woman in front of him.
Kinley nodded but said nothing.
“I need a shower before we dive into the case. Jules has a ton of shampoos and lotions in the shower upstairs. Use whatever you’d like.” He swiped a bead of sweat from his forehead then walked over to the mini fridge in the corner of the room. “Water?”
“Please.”
He tossed a chilled bottle across the room, and Kinley caught it with one hand. “I feel strange taking her things.”
“She’d be miffed if you didn’t. Once Gus lets it spill that you’ll be staying here for a bit, I’d be surprised if she didn’t stop by with provisions, or at least to say hello.” He wrenched the cap off the bottle and took a couple of big gulps.
“I’d like to get to my apartment today.” She sipped her water, then continued. “Grab some clothes and a few of my things.”
“We’ll make it happen, even if I have to go in to get it.”
Her toned shoulders visibly relaxed, as though she’d been preparing for an argument.
She cleared her throat and recapped her bottle. “You think the media vultures are still circling?”
“Can’t rule it out. I don’t want that bastard having the satisfaction of seeing you on the news.” A burn spread through his chest, and his jaw tightened to the point of pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Kinley out of that monster’s grasp. One of the many reasons he needed to be objective, even if it killed him.
Her lips settled into a frown. “Yeah, that’s just the image I want to portray. His victim packing up a duffle bag and running to the protection of an FBI agent.”
“You have nothing to prove to him. Nothing.” He ground his teeth together. No one should go through what she had.
Her tongue inadvertently darted out and swept across her lips. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. He also loathed the word victim. They were both stronger than their tormentors.
“Right. I’m going upstairs. Any chance you want to conserve water?”
Her words chased the breath from his lungs, had him hardening with the flick of a switch. His gaze traveled down her luscious body. Her breasts would be heavy in his hands. Hard nipples strained beneath her shirt. Fuck, he wanted to know what kind of sounds she’d make when he sucked and licked those tight peaks. Wanted to slide deep inside her wet heat and swallow her moans as the shower spray pounded down on them. But he wouldn’t be doing any of that. Not today. Not when his heart and her safety were entangled with this feverish heat. He’d never had to work to keep his emotions in check when it came to sex. Kinley was different. Dangerous.
“No.” The single syllable was clipped, and her expression shuttered. Damn, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. How did he explain that he was starting to fall for her, even before he’d tasted her sweet lips? “I can’t lose my focus. Not now, and that’s exactly what will happen if I join you in the shower.”
Her cheeks pinkened, and there was a sinking sensation in his gut. He got the feeling it cost her to ask, that she didn’t make a habit of sleeping around. Not that he’d judge if she did. “I’ll meet you downstairs after, and we’ll figure out the next steps.” Her tone was professional and direct, as though they’d just met. He was the one who’d turned her down, so why did it bother him so much that she was erecting walls?
What a prick he was to flat-out refuse her and not explain. She must think he ran hot and cold. One moment he was admitting his attraction and more, and the next he was telling her he didn’t want to take things further. Still, Kinley had voiced her hesitations, too. After that explosive kiss, she’d told him she couldn’t afford to get sidetracked. Maybe her invitation was made in a moment of weakness. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. He was okay with her using him as an escape. What he wasn’t okay with was her shutting him out because he’d been tactless with his words. A long breath whooshed from his lips as he made his way to the stairs. A shower would help to clear his head. He’d make it right the moment they reconvened. He wasn’t sure when Kinley’s emotions, her happiness, had become as important as her safety and solving the case, but they had.
****
Kinley was already at the kitchen table that had become their headquarters. They’d shared meals, fears, and secrets at those often-empty chairs, and despite the fact that she’d been in his home less than twenty-four hours, he was going to picture her here when she went back to her life. He wanted that for her. To finally be free of the man who violated and tortured her. Imagining her walking through his front door, though, made his stomach harden. There was something about this woman that threw all his beliefs and ideas about the future to hell. He crossed the room and pulled out a chair, wood scraping together as it slid over the floor. He sat and directed his focus at the woman who had him tied up in knots. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and there was a fresh, pinkish hue to her cheeks, like she’d cranked the water to a scalding temperature before stepping beneath the spray.
“Kins, about earlier—” He leaned in, bracing his forearms on the table, willing her to look him in the eyes and see his sincerity.
