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ChapterSeven
SAVANNAH
Stupid Donovan Darman or whatever the fuck.
I threw my purse down onto the bed and paced. But with my shaking hands and legs like jello, I finally relented and collapsed on the bed, too.
He knew what he was doing. The man strummed the feminine with his masculinity all mastered and shit.
Goddamn it, why? Why him? And it wasn’t because he looked good. Kyran looked good, yet I didn’t lose my mind over him. I didn’t want to eat him up or jump his bones. I didn’t hurt looking into his eyes, craving something deeper, something primal. It was the screwed up situation.
I was spiraling. I could feel it. I’d had the ground shoved from under me so often over the past few weeks, I could barely stand up anymore. And now this?
Grace was lovely. The town was lovely. It was a beautiful haven kept free from the world with a small community that stood together for their home. I sensed that the moment I’d walked into the bar. Wariness had faded, and they’d accepted me into the fold. And here I was, about to screw things up for everyone because of Will? Because of Gideon? Because my brain was too stupid to come up with another way out of this?
Police weren’t an option because of who Gideon had in his back pocket. And how twisted was that? Trouble had come to me and I had no way out. Death hung over Will’s head and I was his savior. A savior who wanted to ride the cock of a man I was supposed to be hunting down; one who could be a potential murderer—even though that I heavily doubted—and one adored by the townspeople because he was one of them. He was an alpha male. A protector. He kept the town hidden, didn’t he? He was focusing on me because I was a stranger. Focusing on me too much. But maybe that was his plan?
Had he killed Gideon’s daughter? Had Gideon even had a daughter? Had Donovan murdered another human being as Gideon claimed?
My instincts said no. My logic said no. I wasn’t naïve to killers. I’d come across a few in the past.
Most of them didn’t ‘look’ like killers. The bail jumpers weren’t those who’d accepted the inevitable because of the crowd they ran with or their gang tattoos. They preferred to go to prison with big a fuck you and accept it as their rite of passage. They didn’t run.
It was the ones you never expected. The ones who blended into society thinking they could run away from the problem and pretend it never happened. But it was easy to see it in their eyes if you knew where to look. And whereas I wouldn’t put Donovan beyond the capability of ending another’s life, I didn’t see that look in his eyes. The one that haunts. The one that brands the soul. It wasn’t there. And why did I have to think of him being innocent?
Groaning out loud, I’d inadvertently dropped the barriers that kept Donovan’s kiss, and my reaction toward him, at bay for a while
I touched my lips, and the memories of his kiss seared my brain, leaving a tattoo of a reminder on there so deep I’d fall into it forever if I didn’t shut it down.Shut it down now.I snatched my hand away from my mouth and punched the bed a few times.
That man was sin on a stick, and playing with me. I was sure of it. But even if he was a player, or suspicious of my arrival, something drew us to one another. I couldn’t deny it. I’d be stupid to deny it. Unless I was a fool so desperate for some goddamn attention, or support, while thrown knee-deep into this mess.
Kicking off my boots, I fought the urge to contact Will and check-in. Not that I could do so using my cell with no freaking cell service around here, and I didn’t trust the landlines, even if Lilly had given me leave to use the phone. They were traceable. Either by Gideon or by Donovan if he was protecting his town from the woman who’d sauntered in, claiming car trouble.
Run. Hide,my fear chanted.Gideon won’t shoot Will.Even if he had a reputation of him and his men doing such a thing to people who crossed him. Even if there was the odd missing person or people who’d died in suspicious circumstances with no active leads tied to Gideon.
I rubbed my head as it pulsed.You’ve got this far, Sav.
The terrified nights staying in different motels, wondering if Gideon’s men had caught up to me, worrying for Will, worrying if I’d failed and my uncle already had a bullet in his brain. I’d not only got a lead but a successful one. This was a positive move. A good result.
Only taking stock of arriving in Moonlight Creek, the size and intricacy of the town hidden away, I realized I’d tumbled from the frying pan into the fire. I had no clue what I was doing, yet I had to do it, regardless. And Donovan Darman. Not do him, even though I craved to, but he was trouble in awholeother way.
That man-made fire seemed like a breeze. Scrap that. He was fire. He was the definition of heat. And when he tugged me back toward his hard cock, hard because I’d bent down before him while playing pool—hard because of me, I’d melted.
My panties dampened, and my eyes lingered after him like a lost pup all night. And he touched me, the bastard, every caress like lightning across my skin. But the good kind. The deep, gonna seep into your core kind and make you melt like a mother bitch.
Then he’d gone and kissed me. He’d kissed me and dragged me into the depths of the Hell he promised, and the addiction I never knew I desired.
Ugh, that mouth. And ugh, my brain.
It played over and over the kiss. The feel of the bulge in his jeans. The thought of his raw masculinity, naked, and pummeling into me one hit after the other.
My nipples, taut and hard, puckered beneath my shirt and bra. I hurried to get out of them, tossing them aside. But that was a mistake. The air hit them, and the thought of Donovan’s mouth wrapping around each one, suckling, hard and soft as he gazed up at me in promise, had me whimpering for more. With distaste, I shuffled out of my jeans, and my panties, and touched myself, imagining Donovan’s fingers touching and probing, promising me his cock if I were a good girl.
The way he’d hooked a finger under my chin. The way he’d kissed me, his tongue probing, unrelenting, vowing an oath that he’d get under my skin and stay there until I caved. I imagined him shoving me against the wall, shoving his fingers down my jeans, and satisfying the cruel burn of my pussy as it called out for his touch. I let my thoughts take me to the place of him tugging down my jeans, lowering his zipper, and letting me touch his large cock—for he certainly wasn’t small after what I felt against my ass—then he’d find my soaking entrance, look at me with those intriguing eyes, then thrust inside, giving me all I craved as he fucked me against the wall of the inn.
Back in my room, lying on the bed, I rubbed my clit with ferocity and came with thoughts of Donovan in my mind, my fingers soaked, exalting on the high. But then it came crashing down like a heavy weight, waking me up to reality. I whispered his name, trying to find the place of rationality that told me more than my intuition, more than my body, and more than my soul. But I couldn’t find it.
A tear escaped, and I felt empty. I felt empty because Donovan was here, within reach to soothe the ache, and when he found out who I truly was, and my intentions, he never would be.
And that hurt way too much for a man I’d only just met.
