Page 53 of Waging War
Ben grinds his jaw when I brush by him toward the beckoning warmth of the fireplace.
“Do you know you’re impossibly stubborn?”
Ignoring him, I shove my hands out toward the flames and release a tiny moan. The house is silent save for the crackling firewood.
“You misunderstood what I said earlier.” He pauses. “About you riding.”
I turn an eye his way, then back toward my extended hands. “You mean, youdon’tagree that they should have taken my bike and used it as means of controlling me?”
Like a hook and line, the sarcasm reels him my direction from the edge of the living room. I glare at the fire until my eyes burn, afraid that the second I turn to him, my fragile resolve will crumble.
My pulse pounds when he stops a few measly inches away from me. I breathe in his essence of mint and rain, cursing internally as I begin to realize just how useless my resistance truly is.
Ben is an aphrodisiac, and I can kick, scream, and fight this connection all I want to, but the truth is…I needmore.
“No, I don’t,” he says evenly.
Giving in, I flick my gaze to his, watching the blended light from the fire touch the stubble gracing his cheeks and chin. God help me, but I’m helplessly drawn to the flame that is uniquely Ben’s.
“Bruce doesn’t know that we’ve released you. So, while I agree that it isn’t smart for you to be riding through town, or anywhere near it,” he says, crossing his arms, “trapping you isn’t the answer either.”
“They won’t help me fight him,” I say, fighting back the tears stinging my eyes while the muscles in my neck flex. “Dad and Cooper… They’ve just given up.”
I face him fully now. “But I’m done playing by the rules and skirting around him in fear.”
“Their fear isn’t unwarranted, Hazel. Bruce has played this game for far too long, and he knows where to strike to make it hurt.”
My heart softens at his implication. “Maybe I’ll just kill Bruce myself and get all of our damn lives back.”
His shoulders drop, loosening his crossed arms as he chuckles. “I have no doubt you would, baby.”
That same softening heart now stutters. Not long ago, I despised the endearment. But now, I’m almost embarrassed by the way it flips my stomach.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Have you been belittled for so long that you can’t accept my belief in you?”
The roaring fire cocoons us in warmth, and when he lowers his arms to pull me into him, I can’t place where our body heat starts and the heat from the fire ends.
“You’ve survived the types of things that make up many women’s nightmares.” He taps my temple. “Regardless of what you’ve been made to believe, there’s a fighter in here. And to be honest, she scares me a little bit.”
I smile under the intensity of his gaze.
“Admitting that you frighten me is amusing to you?”
The ice inside me thaws with Ben’s deepening tone. His hands explore the edges of my body, starting lower at my hips before rising up my sides.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Every couple of inches, he stops to knead my skin, and each time a bolt shoots toward the apex of my thighs. How does he know when to be gentle and rough? The combination is as intoxicating as the man himself.
This shouldn’t feel as good as it does; I shouldn’t be melting against him or guiding him with body language so easy for him to decode.
A hum tickles the side of my neck, prickling the hair there to the point that I shiver. “What else can I admit that Hazel may findamusing?”
I tilt my head to the side as his scruff trails along my neck.
“You’re a stubborn ass with poor fork-wielding skills,” he rumbles. I dance my hands across the lower expanse of his back, tracing each rise and hallow of muscle. “And in this light,” Ben says as he tips my face up and presses his lips over both my cheeks, “these freckles aren’t quite as cute as I hoped they’d be.”
