Page 25 of Blind Attraction

Mitch removed his hands from her legs, a sudden wash of disgust pouring over him. He ran his arms around her back and held her close, wishing he could take away her pain.

“After it happened, she couldn’t live here anymore and moved to Colorado. She purchased a property with my late grandparent’s money and set up a type of retreat for women recovering from abuse.” Allie hugged him back, resting her cheek against his heart. “Apart from the occasional trip into the city, I haven’t been around other men at all.”

His mind spun. “What about...” He had so many questions and didn’t know where to start. “You said I was the fourth. Who were the others?”

“Experiments.” She chuckled against his chest, and he winced at the sting of jealousy. “By the time I turned twenty-one, I had a lot of questions I wanted answered. Against my mother’s wishes, I went into Colorado Springs a few times and searched for what I thought I was looking for.” She shrugged. “Turns out those men lacked your finesse.”

He clenched his jaw, unable to speak.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He shook his head and wondered how she could say that. She wouldn’t have experienced a childhood crush, a high school dance, or even dating.

“I had contact with the outside world via the phone and Internet. I watched movies, read books, surfed the web, and talked in chat rooms. I live a relatively normal life I suppose. I’m just not used to interaction with men.”

He stepped back, unable to hold her close any longer when the anger at himself had grown into a consuming ball in his chest. She sat up straight, her gaze almost focused directly on his.

“Christ. I’m sorry. You didn’t want to meet me after the gig last night, did you?” He relived the past twelve hours in his mind while he scratched his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. You didn’t want to have that drink with me, and then when I wanted to take you to the optometrist you tried to refuse, and I pressured you.”

“Mitchell, it’s not that—”

“Damn it. I wondered why you flinched at my touch when we first met and why you didn’t want to hang around. All this time I assumed you were shy.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, pissed as hell that he’d been narrow minded to her objections. “Kate even tried warning me this morning, but I didn’t fucking listen.”

“Mitchell.” She pushed from the bench and stumbled forward. He caught her before she corrected herself, and then dropped his hands from her arms, not wanting to make the situation worse.

She stepped into him, grabbed onto his shoulders and stared at his throat. “Yes, I was scared. But never of you. The thing that alarmed me was how much I enjoyed your touch.” A soft kiss peppered his chin and he closed his eyes. “My mother brought me up believing all men are...” She sighed. “You weren’t what I was expecting. I like you, and those three words are something I never thought I’d have the opportunity to say to a man. So when I tell you I’m trying to fit in and trying not to feel vulnerable and needy and scared, that’s what I mean.”

He gazed down at her, hating himself for pushing her into something she wasn’t prepared for. He couldn’t even find the words to apologize.

“Please touch me, Mitchell. One last time before I leave.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought for control. Fear gripped him by the balls and held tight. Disgust churned in his belly. He wanted to cocoon her in his arms and protect her from the world, just like her mother had done her entire life.

Her hands ran down his sides and under his shirt, her tiny nails scouring a trail up his chest. Christ! He needed to think. His blood burned in his veins urging him to lift her in his arms and carry her to the bed, but how could he? How could he sink himself into this fragile woman and ignore the fear that he might break her?

“Don’t think. Don’t judge. Just pretend I’m not damaged and make love to me before I go. Please.”

Delicate fingers found his nipples, tweaking, rubbing until he needed to bite his tongue to stay in control. His erection jerked between them, begging for attention. The need to take her built inside him, growing and morphing until he wanted to fall to his knees in surrender.

“Mitchell?” She kissed his neck, trailing her fingers down his chest, over his stomach. Lower. When she gripped his cock he hissed in a breath and everything inside him snapped.

His lips found hers and one hand cupped her face. He opened the door and shuffled her backward into the bedroom. He devoured her, tasted every part of her mouth, and held her tight to his chest so she couldn’t let go. She whimpered, mewled, the tiny, needy sounds sinking into his soul, her dainty fingers gripping his waist.

He lifted her, hauling her ass into his hands while her legs wrapped around his hips. The heat of her pussy burned through his boxers. Her hands cupped his face, keeping their lips meshed as he walked her to the bed.

When his knees hit the side of the mattress he dropped her, letting her fall back on the soft quilt. Plates clanged and cutlery collided from the other side of the bed. Their breakfast feast still laid there, the food now teetering at odd angles with the weight. And Blake nowhere in sight.

Not taking any chances, Mitch stalked to the bedroom door and found his friend sitting on the sofa, laptop in hand. “I’m closing the fucking door. You so much as touch the handle, and I’ll break your fingers.”

Blake grinned. “No problem. I’ll just put my ear against the wall and listen.”

Mitch clenched his fist and took a threatening step forward.

“I’m joking.” Blake chuckled. “Geez, lighten up.”

Mitch continued to glare as he slammed the door.

In three steps he was on the bed, walking on his knees toward Alana. She rested on her elbows, her eyes gazing unfocused on the quilt beside her. He’d regretted not being able to save her from harm yesterday, but right now his desire to have her looking at him made his chest ache. He needed her to see the emotion in his expression because the thought of putting his feelings into words scared the shit out of him.

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