Page 38 of Nothing to No One

So maybe she wasn’t the only one obsessed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t… I should’ve asked about your life.”

“My job is low on the list of things you’ve got to worry about right now. What happened at Brooker?”

“Everyone wanted to gawp, just like here. It’s probably why they hid me in here ‘cause I know for sure Roman didn’t ask for me.”

“He’s in makeup.”

Which he’d already said. Their eyes met as her fingertips reached the fabric of his tee-shirt.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Supporting me,” she said. “I wouldn’t have got through this without you.”

As her hands glided around him, he caught her shoulders. “You don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t?”

Why was it like they shared a mind? This wasn’t a rejection, instinct, and searing need betrayed that without words. This wasn’t an indifferent, unaroused man.

“I have to confess—”

“Don’t tell me,” she whispered, choosing to skim her palms up as opposed to around. “Show me.”

In the inevitable clash of their mouths, he dipped to catch her thighs as she threw her arms around his neck. Neither cared who was first, who instigated, who provoked, all came together in unison and consent.

Locking her arms tight, she pulled herself higher, forcing his head back as her spine hit the wall. Wall? What wall? This man was her wall, her stability, the clench that tightened around her veins holding her atoms together.

His powerful forearms supported her legs while his fingers dug deep into her ass. This was what she wanted, her life’s blood. The heat of his tongue pushing hers back, tempting her deeper, all she could think about was—she landed flat on her back, somewhere hard, soft… a bed.

“Stru,” she whispered, losing her fingers in his hair, raising her hips, pushing against him.

A startling bang separated their mouths.

“We’re on, Ro!” someone shouted from outside.

Fighting her shallow breathing, she might be looking Struan in the eye, but she wasn’t giving him leeway to rise further. No, her arms were staying tight around him, for as long as they could.

“I have to go get him,” he said, drawing in a long nasal inhale, mesmerized by her mouth. “Want me to apologize?”

“No.”

Licking her lips, satisfaction burst around her heart when the need in his gaze flared.

“Good. Because I won’t.” And she could lay there all day under his adoration. “I saw you first.”

Still clamped around him, her hips ascended, pushing, writhing, begging while making a promise.

“Am I your toy?” she asked, unable to refute being his.

“Oh, baby, if wishing made it so.” A dimple. “Roman’ll be shooting at least a couple of hours. Stay in here. Away from the gawpers. My trailer’s two down, gray stripe on the door.”

“Can I hang out there instead?”

“As soon as I come up with a good reason you’d be there rather than here.” He kissed her again. “This is better.”

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