Page 38 of Hideaway Heart

But then his mouth was on the upper curves of my breasts, his beard tickling my skin. Hooking his fingers over the top of my tank, he tugged it down, exposing one breast, and sucked hungrily on the puckered nipple. I cradled his head against my chest, my fingers threading into his hair. He moved to the other breast without even bothering to pull down my shirt, wetting the cotton, closing his lips over the stiff peak, drawing me and the material into his mouth with quick, hard pulls.

The fire popped and hissed, and the noise startled Xander to his senses.

Lifting me off his lap, he set me on my feet, drew my hoodie back over my shoulders, and backed away. “We have to stop.”

“Why?” I looked around. “No one is here.”

“We don’t know that for sure. Someone could have followed us. This is reckless and unsafe and...wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I crossed the line. Your brother trusts me with you. He said I’m theonlyone he trusts with you.”

“So?”

“So that means something.” He spoke firmly, looking me in the eye. “Trust is important to me.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Me too, Xander! Trust is important to me too.”

Next to us, the fire crackled again, sending sparks shooting up into the dark. I shook my head. “Never mind. Let’s just forget this happened.”

“Thank you. I have to be able to do my job without distraction.”

“Of course,” I said, bristling at being called both a job and a distraction. I zipped my hoodie all the way to my chin. “I’m going into bed.” Then I walked away without another word, not evengoodnight.

Ten minutes later, I slipped between my sheets in the dark and curled up on my side. I felt cold and empty, a complete contrast to the way I’d felt sitting out by the fire, or even at the restaurant tonight.

It had been a long time since I’d spent hours on end with just one person, getting to know them, letting them get to know me, feeling a mutual attraction build, giving it room to breathe, testing its limits, sharing a first kiss.

And a second.

And a third.

Recalling the sensation of his mouth on my skin, the firm softness of his lips contrasted with the abrasive rub of his beard, that delicious tug on my nipples... I rolled onto my stomach, moaning softly into my pillow. Why did the guy assigned to protect me also have to turn me on so much? It was so unfair.

And yet, if I was honest, I had to admit that part of his appeal was that he was good at his job. For all the things I didn’t like about him—and there wereplentyof them—I did feel secure in his presence.

But I also felt sexy. Desirable. Wanted.

Me. The real me—Kelly Jo Sullivan.

The door to the house opened and closed. A moment later, I heard Xander’s slow, heavy footsteps in the hall. He went into the bathroom. The faucet came on.

Was he thinking about me? Was he angry with himself? Did he regret putting the brakes on? The bathroom door opened and I listened for his footsteps thudding back down the hall again. But I didn’t hear them. Just silence.

I propped myself up on one elbow, holding my breath. Was he on the other side of my door? Wondering if he should knock?

Knock, I thought.Knock, you big lummox.

A full ten seconds went by, my heart hammering wildly.

Then I heard the slow thump of his boots on the wood floor as he walked away. Flopping onto the pillow again, I frowned. Damn him for rejecting me! Didn’t he understand how lonely I was? How long it had been since anyone had kissed me or touched me? How hard it was for me to be this vulnerable with someone?

If I was any other girl, I could just meet a handsome stranger and enjoy a sexy little vacation fling without worrying that he’d sell his story to the tabloids. Instead, I wasme, stuck sharing this one-bedroom cabin in the middle of nowhere with a smoking hot guy I actually thought I could trust not to betray me, only he wouldn’t come near the bed.

And he’d wanted me too. I knew that he had.

I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes, remembering in vivid detail the way I’d climbed onto his lap, feeling him hard and thick beneath me. I recalled the scent of him—tinged with smoke and fire—and the exhilaration of that moment when he’d grabbed my head and crushed his lips to mine.