Page 32 of That Girl is Trouble

My heart jumps again.

What’s his.

Bane pushes off the creepy stalker guy and his brutalized hands and drags him towards the dumpsters at the edge of the lot. “You don’t move until you see light. Understand?” he barks. “In here until the sun comes up. Don’t think I won’t come back and fucking check.” He opens the lid and throws the man inside before slamming it back down again. He nods at Axe. “I’ll be in the truck.”

Axe is on me in a second, pulling me back to my car with his hand locked firmly around my upper arm. He settles me against the door and kneels, checking my legs, his fingers tracing over the cuts and scrapes. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “We need to get you cleaned up. We need to—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” I pull him up by his jacket, tugging him close.

Letting out a long breath, he wraps his arms around me, clinging to me, pressing me tight to his chest. When he pulls away, he scans my face, his eyes swimming with an emotion I’ve never seen in him before—fear.

Reaching up, I draw my fingers down the cut of his jaw, exploring him, this new look of his, the way I used to explore him when we were in the dark of his room. Then, it was curiosity mostly. A need to understand how a man could be made up of so many sharp, harsh lines, yet be so soft when he wanted to be. No touching. I hold my breath, waiting for the pause when he’s let my exploring get too far, the shift in his body, the words that slip from his mouth, warning me it’s not right.

What I don’t expect is for his lips to brush against mine. A whisper of a kiss. My breath catches when his mouth grazes along my chin. My heart thumps wildly as he nuzzles my cheek with his nose. And when he snakes a hand around the small of my back and pulls me in closer, a tremble shudders its way over my body, and I fall into his chest as his lips finally find mine.

All those nights, we were so close. His fingers sliding over my lip gloss. His hands touching places he swore they shouldn’t. But I never got his lips. I never got his kiss.

And fuck. His kiss.

It’s ferocious. Wild. Unhinged. His tongue a claiming force against mine. Axe kisses me like he might never kiss me again. Like he’s going off to fucking war. There’s no control. Only need and passion and pure fucking hunger, and I never want it to stop.

He pulls away just long enough for each of us to take a breath, and then he dives back in, his lips molding with mine, his tongue dancing in my mouth, his hand pressing against my lower back, pulling my body tighter and tighter against his like he might never let me go.

I moan into his mouth when his hands find my ass, and he breaks our kiss, breathing out hard against my neck.

“God dammit, Kat. How the fuck do you feel so good?” Stepping back, he picks up my discarded purse and rifles through it, digging out my keys and unlocking my car. He presses them into my hands. “You park by the door from now on. Understand?”

I nod. It’s all I have the capacity to do.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Words, Kat.”

With a blink, I pull myself straighter. “Yes, Axe. I understand.”

“Straight home. No stops.”

I spin and grab for the door handle but pause. It takes all my resolve not to pull him back in for more. To take what my body is demanding. More of his touch, his mouth, his tongue. Axe Donovan’s hands on me is a special kind of torture, his perfect, wild, soul touching kiss loaded with all that history I’ve been willing myself to forget.

I don’t want you, Kat.

It’s a punishment. The man who’s so good at pulling me in and icing me out, who forced me to walk away, is the same man who won’t hesitate to break bones and draw blood in my name.

Never fucking touch what’s mine.

His.

I clear my throat and peer at him over my shoulder. “Thank you. For keeping me safe.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t feel like that, Kat. I’ll see you Wednesday night. Keep that gun close.”

Once I’m settled in the driver’s seat with the doors locked, I let out a shaky breath and start the car. The weight of his kiss is still heavy on my lips as I drive away.

10

Two years ago

December

The acrid smell of fire and gasoline assaults my nostrils. Desperate for a cleansing breath, I crack the window of the truck and lean into the fresh air that gusts through the cab.

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