Page 99

"Okay," I think I say, but it's hard to tell with my full attention focused on his ass. Damn, he's hot. And for reasons unknown, the danger, this intensity sends my hormones into overdrive. "Nash," I say, now staring at his flexing inked arms, but he's too focused out the back door to hear my lusty plea.

Fine. Time to take things into my own hands. Literally. Careful not to startle him, I press my chest against his back and wrap my arms around his waist.

"It’ll be fine, Pops," he says with a reassuring pat to my arm.

Damn, he's oblivious to the fact that I need him, now. But he won't be for long. Dipping my hands beneath his shirt, I relish in the hard ripples of his ab muscles.

"Um, Pops, whatcha doing?"

"Hmm?" I hum against his back, too lost in the sensations of feeling up his chest. Done exploring above the belt, I dip a hand into his jeans. We both let out a throaty groan as I wrap a hand around him and squeeze.

"Fuck, what the hell are you doing?" Nash says through gritted teeth. "There could be someone out there who wants to kill you. You understand that, right?"

"Mmhmm," is all I can muster.

He groans and presses his forehead against the door. "I won't risk you."

"You mentioned a safe room...."

"Fuck, I love you so much right now." Wiggling my hand out of his pants, he pulls me down the back hall into a decent-sized office. Visions of him bending me over the desk play out in my head until I'm yanked into a room that wasn't here a second ago.

A loud clang of bolts snapping into place vibrates the metal walls I have two seconds to take in before my hoodie is pulled off and the T-shirt ripped over my head.

My naked back slams against the cold metal of the door, but the warmth of his lips against my neck is what makes me shiver. "We don't have much time," he says, then bites the upper part of my breast before sinking to his knees to work on opening my jeans. Careful to keep me steady, Nash lifts one foot and then the other before sliding the pants across the floor.

Now his turn.

My fingers fumble at the hem of his T-shirt, anxious to have his skin against mine. He helps pull it over his head as I work on his belt and jeans. They only make it halfway down before he scoops me up, wraps my legs around his waist and sinks deep between them.

His lips press against mine, swallowing my gasp. Fingers grip my ass, and the metal of the door bites into my back, but hell if I care. Each push of his hips hits a tender spot, making me want more. On the other side of the door, the perimeter alarm beeps.

I'm so close when he swivels his hips and increases the pace, shoving me over the edge and stealing all the breath from my lungs. But still he keeps moving faster and faster.

"Again," he grits out. "I want to feel you, hear you again. Fuck. This, you, it's better than my dreams."

The tips of his fingers graze across my hip and dip between us, the pressure and movement pulling a begging whimper from me.

"Do you know how many times I fantasized about this, us, while you were missing?" he whispers into my ear, keeping his rhythmic pace. "When I'd get drunk enough to forget where you were, I'd get lost in picturing you naked beneath me, screaming at me for more, these full lips wrapped around me while I slid in and you loving every damn inch I gave you."

"Nash—" My voice quivers, mirroring the rest of my body.

"You're mine now. Mine to fuck." I let out a throaty groan to urge him harder and faster. "Mine to protect and mine to love."

And that does it, all control lost as my body quakes beneath him. Nails biting into his shoulders, I scream his name. Through the thundering in my ears, a loud curse roars when he finds his release.

Panting, sweating, his tight grip on my ass doesn’t waver. Between my fingers, I twirl a rogue lock of dark hair, smiling.

His eyes flutter open and then narrow at my satisfied grin. "I didn't do my job right if you still have the energy to smile."

With a giggle I kiss up his neck. "You did all the work."

He leans in for a quick, deep kiss. "I'll take this workout over running any damn day of the week." His content grin mirrors mine. "Let's get you cleaned up.”

I don’t know why a sense of loss washes over me as he lowers me to the ground and guides me to the small bed. I keep my focus on anything other than him while he gently, lovingly, wipes between my legs.

"After that, you're still self-conscious around me?" he asks, now standing over me. "Your mood just shifted."

I shrug and stare at my hands. How do I explain what I don't even know? "I'm fine. You go ahead. Let me know when it's safe to come out."

He narrows his eyes and turns for the door, then looks back. "Sure you're okay, Pops?"

Drumming up my best fake smile, I nod. "Fine, just reeling. Go, I'll get dressed and wait."

With an unconvincing nod, he turns, punches a few numbers in the keypad beside the door, making the bolts snap open, and then he's gone, the door shutting behind him.

As I pull on the discarded clothes, I try to shake the building unease, but its twisting hold on my stomach won't release. Which means whatever is coming next can’t be good.