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In his rush to get to me, he fights to stay on his feet. He’s practically on all fours at times as he struggles his way through the brush.
“Are you oka—ugh!” A skinny branch whacks him in the face.
Ouch!
“Alana! Princess!”
Davis makes record time reaching me, where I’m now on my knees in the dirt, groping around for a solid tree so I can try to get back onto my feet.
He finds his footing, and makes quick work of gently helping me into an upright position. Then he holds me at arm’s length as he frantically checks me over for injuries. Eyes wide and chest heaving, he scans me head to toe. And then toe to head.
He doesn’t find anything. Thankfully, he can’t physically see my sore butt and my wounded pride.Geez. Why am I so clumsy sometimes?
When Davis is satisfied that I’m not about to drop dead on the spot, he hunches over, bracing his knees and trying to regulate his erratic respirations.
“Shit, Allie,” he says breathlessly. “You gave me a heart attack. Anactualheart attack.”
“Oh my god. Are you all right?” I grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to straighten and look at me. I quickly do my own physical assessment. Thankfully, he seems to be fine.
And by ‘fine’, I meanfine.Like, ridiculously-rugged-and-sexy-and-covered-in-mud-and-sweatfine.
This is a good look on him.
He studies my face. I stare back.
One second, he’s all serious, in tough guy mode. And I’m all serious, too.
The next second, we’re both doubled over, laughing hysterically.
“Stop laughing!” I shout, shoving at his shoulder.
“I’m not laughing.” He looks down, just now noticing that he’s covered in almost as much mud as I am.
“Uh. Yes, you are.” I shove him again.
He’s grinning wider than ever. “Well, okay. I’m laughing, but notatyou.Withyou.”
Eye roll. “Yeah, yeah.”
Davis reaches forward, brushing some of my messy blonde strands of hair away from my face. He realizes too late that his hand is muddy, so he ends up smearing wet, cold mud across my cheek.
“Hey!” I scold, trying to hide my amusement.
Without thinking, both of my hands shoot forward, swiping messy streaks of mud across both of his scruffy cheeks.
He gasps, his eyes widening on me. “What the fuck?!” He snorts. He pokes at the tip of my nose with his nasty finger.
The gloves are off now. Revenge on my mind, I lunge forward.
But he’s faster—and stronger—than me. I should have known.
Davis effortlessly restrains my wrists. With one step forward, he easily pins my hands above my head against a tree trunk.
Dominance flashes across his expression, colored with a dash of arousal and the slightest hint of mirth. His face lowers to mine. His voice comes out as a panty-twisting growl fluttering across my lips. “Behave yourself, Alana.”
I freeze, a gasp getting stuck in my throat.Ooh. Yes, sir.
Davis drops my wrists and takes a hurried step back. “So, what are you doing out here anyway?” He glances around at our surroundings. “Are you trying to break your neck?”
