Page 35 of Savage Lust

When I stiffened, he sat up and shook his head, running his hands through his hair and speaking in low, almost inaudible syllables. “While you’re here, I want you close. Because I don’t trust him either.”

Our gazes met, held, and I swallowed back the cold fingers of fear that crept up from my core. “Okay.”

“I need a shower.” He held his hands out, palms up. “No more flirting. Let’s just crash. You can go up in a minute when I kick everyone out. Puck and Jester will be the only ones to come back. By then, you’ll be upstairs.”

What he didn’t say was no one would think I was having sex with him. My reputation remained intact. Why’d he have to go and be honorable?

I followed Cam up the stairs, maintaining a safe distance, and busied myself looking anywhere but at him as he opened the door and held it for me. The last time we’d been on these stairs seemed like forever ago. I felt like a different person.

Had one kiss changed me that much?

His apartment was bisected into two main rooms. I stood in the first. The front half was the living area. In the back, an open doorway caught my gaze.

His room.

If Cam lounging on the bed I’d slept in made me feel all warm and breathy, glancing at his bedroom snatched the oxygen from my lungs.

“You can put your shit in there.” He gestured to his room as he shrugged out of his cut and hung it on the back of a dark wood chair at a table in one corner. The pistol at his back flashed as his shirt lifted with the motion.

That was a startling reminder of why I was up here. The night before, two women had been in here doing—I didn’t want to think of it,ordeal with the jealousy that memory churned up.

“This is fine.” I dropped my bag down on the overstuffed gray couch and crinkled my nose at his room.

He turned, leaned a hip on the table, and emptied his pockets. The brief glance he gave me glinted with amusement. “The bed is cleaner.”

I made a face. “Excuse me?”

“You’re thinking about last night. Trust me, darlin, you’ll be the first woman in that room in a long time.” He gave a half laugh and pointed at the couch. “Can’t say that about the couch.”

“Oh my God.” I snatched up my bag and stomped to his room.

Crossing the threshold was like stepping into a different world. This was his place, a sanctuary. Dark blackout curtains held most of the Nevada sun at bay. What seeped in landed on pale walls with dark wooden floors. Each wall was adorned with at least one framed artistic shot of motorcycles or the desert.

One wall held a large flat screen television, and another two doors. One door stood open, revealing a tidy bathroom with a glass shower.

The bed was massive, with a dark wooden headboard. Surprisingly, this too was tidy. The black comforter was pulled tight, and the top edge folded back to reveal light pillows.

He stepped in behind me, so close his chest brushed against my back. The touch was almost non-existent, and my body responded as if he’d caressed me all the way down.

It was just a kiss, Riley. Damn.

On the far side of the bed was an upholstered chair. He took the small bag of clothes I’d brought up, put it on the chair, before he put his pistol and his phone on the modern, dark dresser trimmed in something metallic. Silver, maybe. “More pillows in the closet, if you want them.”

The room was flooded with light from the bathroom as he stepped in and pulled off his shirt. I caught a glimpse of cordedmuscle and a tattoo across his shoulders before the door shut behind him.

His closet was as tidy as the rest of the room. I half expected to see his shirts organized by color, but they weren’t. They hung to the right, his pants to the left. I pulled two pillows from a shelf and used them to make a barrier down the center of the bed.

I curled on the other half, listening as the water ran in the other room. Steam crawled under the door, bringing with it a tangy, citrus scent of a popular bar soap. One I’d held to my nose and inhaled as a kid. The smell soothed me then and did so now.

But I couldn’t sleep. My entire body twitched and buzzed like every nerve was fighting against a weariness that sank me deeper into the mattress. Cam’s bed was more comfortable than the one in Archer’s guest room.

At least, that’s what I told myself when I snuggled against his pillow and inhaled. The entire room smelled clean, almost sterile. Except the pillows. They smelled of Cam. Faint hint of woodsy tobacco, covered with something crisp and fresh—much like he’d tasted.

My stomach tightened, and my body broke out in a full-fledged hum that made it hard to shut my eyes. I might spend a few hours here, on Cam’s bed, but I wasn’t sleeping. Not like this.

I sat up, twisted so that my back popped and muscles relaxed. My entire life had been careful. I wasn’t the sort of kid that ran down the steps headlong into the yard. I’d stayed with my hand on the rail, taking each stair carefully.

Life was a steady list of doing things I was supposed to, keeping my life as boring and safe as possible. Until Mom died. Every day since had been a struggle to survive. In only a few months I’d been so tired it hurt, so hungry I was sick, and so cold I couldn’t stop shaking.

---