Page 14 of Her Dirty Defender

“Does this usually work for you?” I ask, aiming for dismissive but landing closer to breathless. “Buy a girl a drink? Play the mysterious stranger?”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. “Nothing mysterious about what I want.”

My pulse kicks harder. “And what's that?”

“You.” He says it simply, directly. No games, no clever lines. Just heat and intent that makes my stomach flip. “But you're fighting it.”

I am. God help me, I am.

I swallow hard. “Why me?”

His lips quirk like he expected the question. “Because you look like you need a distraction.” His eyes drop to my lips, then back up. “And I want to see what happens when you stop thinking.”

Bad idea. Terrible timing. Absolutely the wrong man.So why does my pulse spike like I’ve already said yes?

One night. No complications. No regrets. That’s what he’s offering. And I didn’t know until this moment that it’s exactly what I want. What Ineed.

“No names. No personal details,” I say, trying to sound worldly and detached as if I’ve done this a thousand times before when I haven’t done anything like it. Ever

Something flickers in his eyes. Understanding? “If that's what you need to tell yourself.” His thumb traces my wrist, gentle but deliberate. “You're not casual. Just hurt.” His gaze holds mine, unflinching. “I'll make you forget that hurt. Tonight.”

His voice deepens to a near growl. “And I promise, once I’m done with you, you won’t be able to pretend it didn’t matter.”

Shit. Am I really doing this? Did I put on deodorant this morning? Oh, God, what if I smell like the inside of my car? That musty, slightly sour mix of forgotten fast food wrappers and the mildewed beach towels I discovered in my trunk last week.

Maybe if I subtly lift my arm—nope, not subtle. Abort. And when did I last trim my foo? Yesterday. Yep. Okay, that’s good. No panty sideburns.

His hand finds my hip, his thumb pressing into a sensitive spot that almost makes me squirm. “I have a room upstairs.”

Upstairs. That makes it easy.

His voice holds no hesitation or uncertainty, just pure, unshakable confidence, as if he can feel how my body reacts to him before I’ve even given him my answer.

My pulse pounds against my throat, and his eyes darken as he tracks the movement. His grip on my hip tightens, just enough to let me know he’s in control but not enough to keep me here if I want to run.

But I don’t.

His thumb continues to circle and press against my warm flesh. My breath rushes out in a shaky exhale. Flames lick my skin, spreading outward in a slow, intoxicating wave. I know this is reckless. I know I should think this through. But his touch makes me forget every reason to stop.

I glance up, meeting his gaze. The way he focuses on me as if I’m the only person in the bar makes me forget every reason to stop.

This man could wreck me. He could undo me. And yet…

I want him to.

I almost get up and leave. But his other hand slides into my hair, gentle but firm, and everything in me surrenders.

The tension between us shifts and thickens. My body moves before my brain can argue. I slide off the barstool and grab his wrist. Solid muscle, warm skin.

My lips part, my voice a whisper, almost drowned out by the thudding in my ears. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

Just for tonight,I tell myself. One night to let go, to be reckless with a stranger who makes my blood hum. Tomorrow, I'll go back to pretending to be the sensible, put-together daughter of the Sheriff—the one who follows the rules, who keeps things under control.

And I’ll never see him again.

Chapter4

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