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His touch ignites my blood. It’s nothing more than a simple brush of his fingers along the curve of my cheek before his hand settles at my lower back, but it has fire dancing across my skin.
Ignoring my body’s reaction, I part my lips to ask about retrieving my backpack, then immediately press them together when Bennett narrows his gaze at me. With the feel of his hand imprinting itself into my memory, he steers me through the room and leads me outside.
The night air hits my legs, and I shiver, wrapping the coat tighter around me. Bennett’s scent envelops. I inhale, bringing his essence in my lungs, wanting this tiny piece of him in secret.
How can I be drawn to a man I dislike? Because it’s the same man who rescued me.
Not once, buttwice.
“My car is right there,” he says.
There’s no doubt as to which vehicle is his.
The sleek black sports car is low to the ground, giving the impression of a crouching predator ready to spring into action. Its glossy obsidian body gleams under the streetlights, flawless paint polished to a mirror sheen. Dark tinted windows hide the interior while maintaining the vehicle's mysterious aura. The chrome door handles are recessed into the body, parting to open the doors with the touch of a button.
I stare at it as though I’ve never seen a car. In reality, I’ve never seen a vehicle like this. Similar to Bennett, it’s an image of status, wealth, and masculinity. Yet it’s aloof and untouchable, an elusive fantasy to most.
Just like the man beside me.
I halt my steps and turn to look at him. “I appreciate what you did for me, but I need to go back inside.”
Bennett’s beautiful face tightens, a muscle flicking along his jaw. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. My stuff is still inside, but more importantly, that’s my new job.”
“You no longer work there, Miss Green. And you never would’ve if my instructions had been carried out.”
“What?” I frown up at him. “Never mind.”
I shake my head, trying to clear it. Bennett destroys my thoughts, scattering them to the wind with nothing more than a single glance. Confounding me further, he takes my hand in his, threading our fingers in a secure grip. I pull at our joined hands for him to release me, but my attempt is thwarted when he tightens his hold.
A breath of frustration leaves me in a huff. “You don’t understand how much I need this job.”
Bennett yanks me to him. I collide with his chest, my feet losing purchase as I stumble in heels. He’s quick to wrap an arm around my waist and keep me upright while bringing me closer. His grip on my chin has me blinking up at him as he lifts my head, forcing me to meet his gaze.
It burns.
“You needme. Not this fucking job or anything else,” he says. “Now, get in the car before I carry you.”
“Please, just wait a second. I need to think.”
“I’ve already thought about it. In fact, I’ve thought of nothing else.”
He grabs my hips, his fingers digging into the material of my skirt. Right before he tosses me over his shoulder. After securing his hold on the back of my thighs, he walks to the car. My hair covers my face, the tendrils swaying in time with his steps, hiding my embarrassment from the people on the street.
Bennett stops, opens the car door, and then deposits me inside. I sink into the leather seat, my jaw slack. I’ve never been manhandled in my entire life, but from the way my heart pounds and my blood races through my veins, I suspect I’m not as opposed to it as I should be.
He takes advantage of my stupor and leans inside to grab the seatbelt. His face is so close that if he turns his head, he’ll kiss me. I press myself into the seat, my efforts futile when the man himself is an overwhelming presence, one that dominates my senses. The clean and crisp scent of him fills my nose, and the heat from him seeps into me. My body is painfully aware of his proximity, the nearness of his hands so close to my skin. His breath grazes my cheek as he secures the seatbelt across my chest and into the buckle.
I’m drowning in him, without the promise of sweet relief in either deliverance or death.
“Don’t try to run,” he says, staring into my eyes. “I can see you want to, but don’t.”
“Why?”
“I willalwayschase you.”
He pulls back and slams my car door before I can think of a response. Not that there’s much to be said. Everything about this man confuses me. Especially the way my body responds to touch, regardless of how my mind warns me about him.
