Page 19 of Threat of Danger
At the movies, they bought two tickets to an action flick. He didn’t even care what they were watching. He just wanted the movie that started soonest. The second the lights went out, he kissed her. On the way over, he’d decided that he was going to allow a couple of kisses. Nobody could fault him for that.
At first, Jess was tentative, and Derek got drunk on that innocence. He cradled her cheeks in palms calloused from gym equipment. Then he tilted her head for better access, and she let him in.
He claimed her gently, took his time. He suddenly understood that, deep down, he’d been waiting for this for years. He wasn’t going to rush her now. This was Jess.
When a soft, helpless moan escaped her, fire raced through his veins. Then her slim arms slipped around his neck as she completely surrendered. The triumph Derek felt was indescribable. The wave of joy was worth a thousand scores on the rugby field, a thousand trophies.
She was sweet, pliant, and incredibly responsive.
Mine, mine, mine.The words drummed inside Derek.
His hands strayed to her chest. For a second she stiffened; then she melted against him, pushing her firm, high breasts into his eager palms. Her slim hands slid down from his neck and moved to explore his shoulders.
He wanted, desperately, to pull her onto his lap, but didn’t want to get kicked out of the movie theater. He didn’t want to give anyone an excuse to stop them from what they were doing. She felt too good in his arms. Necessary. Vital.
His Jess.
He had no idea what the movie was about. They hadn’t seen two minutes of the film. They made out and groped each other like mad for the full two hours. Derek had been so damn hard by the end, he’d almost come in his pants.
Now, ten years later, as he stood in his office window at the farmhouse he’d grown up in, he still wanted Jess. That was a revelation and a half. One glance had been all it took. Saw her face, heard her voice, andbam!
Jess Taylor held entire worlds in her eyes, always had. And those worlds had always drawn him. He’d resisted that pull for years before he’d finally given in to temptation. Now he would just have to start resisting again.
He watched her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her shadow. Seconds ticked by. He saw no movement, almost as if their meeting an hour ago had been a figment of his imagination.
It wasn’t.
Jess was back—a new, self-assured, tough-as-anything Jess. As if she’d been forged in fire. And she’d had to be forged, remade, because that old, sweet, innocent Jess had been broken. The thought made Derek want to put his fist through the glass in front of him. As did his very next thought:She hates me now.
If she didn’t, she’d sure put on a good act. She couldn’t wait to get him out of there, and she’d told him not to come back. So ... a strong, visceral dislike at the very least.
Well, that was a given—shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Back then, after their escape, during that endless month when she’d been recovering, she wouldn’t talk to Derek, refused to see him. He understood that seeing him would hurt her, so he’d done what he had to, put as many miles between them as possible.
But now he was back.
Jess too had returned.
And just thinking about that day at the movies had given Derek a hard-on. Because he still wanted Jess Taylor.Shit.
How big of a bastard could he be? He was so disgusted with himself, he made himself sick.
He’d witnessed her being raped. Brutally. He should not have sexual thoughts about her. Ever. His attraction could be too easily misinterpreted as an expectation, or pressure—and, at the very least, it was a complication. He wanted to be there for her, provide unconditional support. But if he made her feel awkward, she wouldn’t turn to him for help.
He needed to stop looking at her long legs and her curves. That he even noticed what she looked like felt wrong on every possible level. What the hell was wrong with him?
He was going to stop, right this second.
Attraction over. Killed. She didn’t need his lust. She needed his protection.
He couldn’t protect her back then, but he was damn well going to protect her this time: both from outside danger, and from himself. His first step: get her the hell out of Taylorville. Which meant that, despite her reluctance to talk to him again, he would have to go around to see her.
Hannah Wilson tore every fingernail she had, clawing in the dark to get out of her chains. “Help! Somebody! Please help!”
But nobody answered.
“Help!” She screamed again. “Daddy!”
She was never going to give up, as she knew her parents would never give up looking for her. They would find her. Daddy was coming. He was a big man, a tough man. He was the man who had, up until now, solved all her problems.
