Page 11 of Under Pressure

But…where did he come from? She leaned back, her senses still hurting. She batted his hand away—or tried to—but he caught it, sending her a dogged look. He was in control, not her. And that was a reminder she didn’t need.

“You need more help than I can give,” he stated, removing the cloth from her forehead. “I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine.” She struggled to push herself up into a sitting position, trying to prove it.

“You’re not fine”—his gaze changed as he watched her sit up, never breaking eye contact—“and I’m not a doctor.”

“Then, who are you?”

Now sitting before him, she could see how much longer his limbs were. He was tall, very tall. Strapping, even. As she leaned forward, blinking him into focus, she could sense him breathing in harder the closer she got. Something about his scent was familiar and mouth-watering. His reaction to her was telling, and the air between them grew heavy.

A little punch drunk, she reached over, delicately trailing her hands up his neck. Seeming to allow her, he ran his hands down her forearms, supporting her, embracing her, as she inched forward, like she was touching an animal in the wild for the first time. She kept pushing her luck as he seemed to allow her to run her fingers over his black mask and its soft, stretchy fabric. She slowly pulled it up, inch by inch, revealing a strong jaw that needed a shave followed by a beautiful, wide mouth. She’d never forget that mouth—how it tasted and what it had once done to her.

“Why are you here?” she whispered, meaning something much more complex.

There was a pause between them before he replied.

“You don’t know?”

Her heart beat faster and faster, and she couldn’t stop herself. There were things she needed to know, answers that he owed her. As she pulled the mask up, revealing the face of her protector, she traced a long scar on his cheek that shot upward underneath the mask toward his brow—one that she’d always wanted to understand, but that he would never explain. Drawing in breath as she touched it, he retracted, leaving her hand hovering in thin air. Her body involuntarily tensed in response, as if waking up, and suddenly, the dynamic shifted.

Now that there was a clear separation between them, he watched her as she came to her senses and realized that she’d known all along exactly who he was. It was just that…she hadn’t wanted to believe it. He wasn’t supposed to be her bodyguard. He was the enemy.

“He must have been following you,” Delta pushed on, steering the conversation back to where he wanted it. “I don’t know if he’s trying to scare you or kill you, but this is what—”

“No,” Kendra cut him off, crossing her arms tightly. “It was an accident. There’s no way Hunter would have done this. He’s on my side.”

“Like hell.”

“At least he’s been here. Where have you been?”

She bit her lip after the words came out. He studied her in response, letting the conversation lapse, refusing to acknowledge her question. His mouth twisted in a way she hadn’t seen before—wild anger clearly lingering just one level under the surface.

“You can’t stay here”—he nodded to her house—“not without protection.”

“Back to this, are we?”

“I’m warning you. Don’t take it lightly,” he growled at her, his frustration apparently mounting. “I’ve seen enough.”

“And why should I trust you?” she pushed back, unwilling to yield. “Why should I trust you over him?”

Delta broke, seizing her wrists and yanking her hard into his body. His voice deepened, dark and intimidating, as he glared at her. “You can and you will trust me.”

“Give me one good reason to,” she snapped.

“I knew I was going to regret this.”

Abruptly dropping his head, he took her mouth his own, his kiss as rough as it was unapologetic.

Chapter Five

Delta held the back of Kendra’s head as he consumed her, relishing in the sweetness of her lips. He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t not. Her feminine, fuck-me pout felt like it belonged with his, and he didn’t hesitate to command the kiss to his liking. Her eyes were hazy, the needy sigh escaping her mouth only encouraging him. Damn, he’d felt her surrender to him like that before—and he wanted it again and again. She was the obsession he’d tried to excise.

A hot rush of pure desire ripped up his chest as he dropped his hand from the back of her head. He toyed with her tongue, remembering what it felt like to kiss her. He traced her curves, holding her against him, needing more.

As he deepened the kiss, things he tried to forget crashed to the front of his thoughts—memories he’d pushed away. He replayed that one night last year when her body had been under his as he’d fucked her to within an inch of her life, drawing every goddamn orgasm possible out of her. Now his cock hardened as he held her tight once again. He grinned, never letting up, seizing a moment they would likely both regret. And that was when it hit him. It was all a dream, turning fast into a nightmare.

He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want to be back. He didn’t want any of it.

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