Page 75 of Waging War
The wind creates a haunted tune through every exposed crevice of the place, and I wrap my arms protectively around my upper body.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”
Ignoring how sexy that authoritative tone is, I scowl. “You’re not the boss of me.”
I attempt to stand, but as if we’ve reverted back to who we were before we’d ever even kissed, Ben grabs me suddenly by the front of my shirt and yanks forward—not caring one bit that he’s dragged me an entire foot through splitters and soot.
He searches my face in the pale moonlight.
The frown on his sensually tempting lips reminds me of the Ben who stole my sandwich and called mebabyin a way that made me see red. The very same Ben who seemed to like a little fight with my fire.
I glare at him, wanting so badly to bring forth that old anger. To lash out and tell him to let me go and stay out of my life. But anger doesn’t quite scratch the surface of what I’m feeling.
Not even close.
“I believe you know the punishment for not listening,” he growls.
I snap my teeth at him, amused when he jerks back. “Why don’t you show me?”
Molten heat spreads his pupils wide.
Yes.
It’s strange yet thrilling to be dancing around each other like we once did—before The Christy House, before he showed me his demons, and before I could admit that I cared for him the way I do now.
He doesn’t so much as loosen his hold on me as he continues to explore my gaze.
With my eyelids growing heavy, I nudge him with a challenge. “Looks like someone wants a kiss.”
Ben grips me tighter before brushing those supple lips against mine. His lashes kiss his cheeks when he closes his eyes and leans into me. But as quick as he’s brought me to him, he shoves me away.
I blink up to where he now stands.
What the hell?
“I already told you why this can’t work,” he says, pointing in my direction.
I scramble up. “That was a little uncalled for, don’t you think?”
“Not when you’re being a tease.”
Ouch.
But then, I wanted to seduce him into going along with my plans, didn’t I?
“Tell me why you would come here, knowing what could happen if you got caught?” he asks.
“I could ask you the same thing,enforcer.”
He looks absolutely terrifying standing there in all black, bathed only in moonlight.
Considering me a moment, he moves across the room, sloshing through a couple of puddles before starting to rummage through a toppled-over cabinet.
I wait, watching him search around the rest of the bar for something.
“Bruce did this,” he says, pausing to look at me.
I’m shocked that he would bother telling me the truth. Between our last conversation and now, I was expecting more secrets.
