Page 39 of Unchained

Unease picked at her flesh. She hated what Isaac had done, but she didn’t wish death on him. More than anything, she wanted him to get his life on track, but the last few years had proved that wouldn’t happen. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Brooks watched her with precision. She clenched her abdomen under his gaze. Even focusing on her eyes, he made her skin burn with desire. Had he not commented on her bare legs and glanced at her nipples, she’d hardly know he’d been affected by her. And maybe he wasn’t. He’d shot her down once, and she wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to do it again.

“You’d rather live in fear the rest of your life? Have your mom tucked away in another state, where you can’t see her?”

Right. He was still talking about Isaac and her mind was battling the yearning in her body. She needed wine. Screwing the lid on the water bottle, she sat forward. “Of course not. But I also don’t want his death on my conscience. He’s my nephew, for god’s sake. He has his issues, but my sister loved him.”

“What’s your solution then?”

Ugh. Every time she looked at the long-term portion of her plan, she fumed. Sending Isaac to jail hadn’t helped the first time. He’d gotten a slap on the wrist and been released back into the population. “I hoped he’d get clean in jail.” She picked at the label on the plastic bottle with her thumbnail. “And that maybe, once he was clean, he wouldn’t hate me so much.”

Brooks settled his palm on her knee. The warmth of his skin sent torrents of heat through her body. Ah, it felt so darn good to be touched. She lifted her eyes to his face. “You saved your mom’s life,” he said. “That’s something to be proud of. But you need to know, if Isaac comes after you while I’m around, I ain’t holding back.” He peeled his hand from her flesh and stood. “It’s late. I need to get some rest.”

He picked up their garbage from the table and dumped it into the trash can then dug through her bag for his toiletries and went to the bathroom. The door clicked shut, and she swung her gaze to the bed in the center of the room.

It’s going to be a long night.

* * *

Brooks scrubbed his face on the rough, overly bleached motel towel and then rubbed the material down his body. He’d used the beard trimmer, and although he still had scruff, it at least appeared manicured. The fact that he’d jerked off in the shower minutes after Cam had pleasured herself was sad as fuck. If he’d had bigger balls, he’d have run with her kiss earlier and made her pant with ecstasy. Instead, he’d left them both unsatisfied.

After jabbing his legs into his briefs, he hung up his towel. Cam hadn’t bought him pajamas on her trip to the store, and even if she had, he wasn’t the jamma-wearing type. He clicked off the bathroom light and strode to the bed. The lamp on his side of the bed was lit. Cam’s lithe body was shuffled over far enough on the opposite side of the bed that if he sat too hard, he’d probably fling her off. Moving the covers aside, he slid in next to her. A good two feet separated their flesh, but her scent already permeated the sheets.

He’d never get her lavender smell out of his head. Worst of all, he never wanted to. Not only did she remind him of all things feminine, but her aroma called to him. Touched a part of his senses he couldn’t identify and washed over his angst like refreshing rain.

She was good for him.

But he wasn’t for her.

Cam lay on her back, her gaze intent on the ceiling, as if she were watching TV. He propped his hands behind his head and focused on the yellow stain above them. “Whatchya watching?”

Her sharp laugh shook the bed. She turned her head to face him. The strain he’d caught on her features had fallen, and amusement danced in her eyes. “I was lost in thought.” She sharpened her gaze on his jaw. “You shaved.”

He ran his knuckles over the still-rough hairs. “Yeah, just a trim.”

“It looks good.”

He didn’t move his body other than to turn his cheek slightly so he could stare at the delicate lines of her face. “Want to share what you were thinking about?”

She tucked her chin and shook her head. “Nah. It’s late and I’m beat. Can you get the light?”

He rolled over and pulled the switch. Darkness fell around the room. He shifted his weight to his side, so he faced the center of the bed—and Cam. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and made out the outline of her face. So soft. So pretty. She stayed on her back. His hands ached to touch her. Shoot, every cell in his body vibrated with the need to move closer to her.

Gentle breaths broke from her lips. The rhythm was too controlled to suggest that she was sleeping. Desire scorched its way along his body, the impulse to grab and kiss her almost too great. Then she flipped over, turning away from him. A cavern of disappointment ate at his heart. As much as he wanted her sexually, he wanted something else from her too. Something she’d offered from day one and that had kept him alive this whole time—her presence.

“Brooks?” The low, tentative question made him snap his gaze to the satiny, wheat-colored strands at the back of her head.

“Mmm?” he asked, not daring to fully use his voice, afraid it would sound weak.

“Can you come closer? I’m cold.”

Satisfaction plucked along his nerve endings. He scooted closer, until his knees bumped the backs of her legs. He lifted his arm to snuggle it around her waist then froze. She’d asked him to keep her warm, not get all over her. Resting his hand on her hip, he moved his face so it was only inches from her neck.

Her fingers found his wrist, firm but gentle, and pulled his arm against her stomach. A great sense of relief broke through the dark cloud of pain that had threatened to pull him under minutes ago. He inhaled her sweet scent and closed his eyes. The smooth skin of her bare legs on his thighs made his head spin. Her body fit perfectly to his, her shoulders so slight that his body framed her. His hand ached to roam under the nightshirt she wore, but he forced his fingers flat against her ribs, inches from her breasts. The rapid beating of her heart tapped against his thumb, driving him wild.

She wiggled her hips, a content sigh falling from her lips. “G’night.”

“Mmm,” he said again.

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