Page 23 of Shadow’s Protection (Hurricane Heat MC #1)

Shadow leans down and kisses me. It’s soft and makes me wish we could shut the doors and just be alone.

The two of us.

But the serious look on his face lets me know that his mind is far from sexytimes right now. “I’ll be back,” he says, then heads out the door. He doesn’t lock me in, and he doesn’t remind me to lock the door behind him.

How much has changed in such a short time.

I grab the fresh towel Shadow brought me and head into the bathroom.

The hot water barely lasts long enough to wash my body, so I cut the shower shorter than I would like.

I towel-dry my hair and put on some comfy clothes, then head into Shadow’s bedroom.

I see an e-reader and the remote control for the TV on the neatly made bed with a note.

A little something to keep you entertained, “nerd girl.” Power’s back on, but I’m helping the guys shut down the generator and secure the storm shutters. Be back soon.

He signs the note with a single capital S.

As tired and stressed and frustrated as I am, I can’t help smiling.

I stretch out on the bed and turn on the e-reader.

This must be Shadow’s. It has all kinds of books on it.

History books, books about politics and the law.

Biographies. There are even magazines and a few popular novels.

I smile at the gesture, but for once in my life, I’m too wired, my mind racing too fast, to even think about reading.

I flip on the TV and catch the tail end of a news report about the storm.

It sounds like Shadow was right. The roads are a mess, and emergency crews are only now being dispatched to start the cleanup.

Many of the roads are completely impassable, and many thousands of people are estimated to be without power for days, maybe even a week or more.

I thank my lucky stars I found Shadow. I think back to that first night, how terrified I was.

How the storm practically blew my car off the road.

I can’t imagine Clive trailing me through that storm.

Or even worse, being someplace safe while I was out there at the mercy of the weather and wherever I could find to take shelter.

My anger about Clive is rising, and I find myself wanting this fight. But I’m even more grateful that I do not have to do it alone.

My phone rings and breaks my train of thought. My heart practically leaps out of my chest, as if, for a second, I’m afraid I summoned Clive by thinking about him. But the ringtone belongs to my sister, so I pick up on the second ring.

“Violet, oh my God.” My sister’s voice brings a tear to my eye. “Babe, are you okay? I thought you were going to text me when you got to your new condo.”

I explain that I’m still at the place I’ve been staying the last few days.

I haven’t exactly told my sister I’ve been staying at a motorcycle compound, and now that I know Clive had a tracker on my car, I’m glad I didn’t say more.

I suddenly wonder if there’s any way he’s been monitoring my communications too.

I sigh and add “getting a new phone” to the list of things I need. Right after a job.

“I’m more than safe,” I tell Ivy. “I’m great. Good. There are lots of people here, men and women. Everyone has been really welcoming, and it’s actually been kind of fun.”

“What kind of fun?” My sister’s voice is teasing, and I know she wants details about the hot, scary, bearded guy who invited me here. I don’t think I’m ready to talk about Shadow, though. Especially not now when I can’t be entirely sure that our conversation is completely private.

I do decide to tell her about the tracker on my car, though.

“That’s fucked up. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try not to worry about it right now,” I tell her, purposely downplaying the situation. There is nothing my little sister can do from so far away. She’s in college and, thankfully, is safe and sound, far from the storms of the state of Florida and her sister’s shitty taste in men.

“Check in with Mom and Dad, will you?” Ivy asks. “They’ve been calling me, but I just keep telling them you have to preserve your phone charge.”

I feel sick with guilt. My parents. Of course they would be worried about me.

My sister is in college in Chicago, and my parents are safe in the house where I grew up back in the suburbs of Atlanta. They have no idea about a direct hit from a hurricane, and they never even met Clive face-to-face.

My parents had me young and they both still work, so given how fast everything moved with Clive, all we’d managed were a few video chats. My engagement didn’t even last long enough for them to meet my fiancé before he became my ex.

“You know Mom and Dad are gonna want to know where you are,” Ivy says. “I’ve been able to put them off for a while, but just be prepared. They’re gonna want an address.”

I sigh, knowing that I’m going to have to keep my chat with my parents quick. I don’t want to worry them, but the less anyone knows about where I am and what I’ve been doing here the last few days, the better.

Part of me feels guilty even thinking that.

Am I feeling guilty because I’ve spent the hurricane having sex with the most gorgeous, contradictory, confusing man I’ve ever met?

A man who’s been to prison, but who welcomed me in, brought me an e-reader, and who has rallied everyone in his life to protect me at the first sign of danger?

It’s strange to feel a combination of guilt and excitement just thinking about Shadow. How would I introduce him to my parents or my sister? What would I tell them he does for a living? I don’t even know what he actually does for a living, so…

I tell my sister I love her and swear her to secrecy. She promises not to tell anyone my location, and she promises to be careful. She lives in the dorms in a secure campus downtown, but if Clive can’t get to me, who knows.

We hang up the phone and I call my parents.

My heart aches, hearing their voices. They are both so worried about me and ask a million questions, but I just have to assure them that I’m safe and that I will call them as soon as the power is back and I don’t have to ration the charge on my phone.

I tell my parents I love them, and I hang up.

For the next few days, I have one priority: figuring out my next moves. What my parents and sister don’t know won’t worry them. And I’ll catch them up once I’m safely in my new place and, hopefully, well into the next steps of my future.

I settle back against the pillows and turn on an old movie.

Something classic, black-and-white, and completely soothing.

I must fall asleep while watching it because, suddenly, I am imagining the GTO and the compound garage.

The quiet, private space where I first felt Shadow inside me.

Where we first acted on this flirtation, this attraction, making it something so, so much more.

What is it? I don’t know, but in my half-dream sleep state, all I do know is that my body can’t get enough of Johnny Butcher.

I picture him and all the things we’ve done.

The barbell on his private part. The way he cups my breasts and works my nipples.

The throbbing between my legs is so strong, I don’t know if I’m half asleep or dreaming, but I moan and feel my fingers slip between my legs under the covers.

“Shadow…” My eyes closed, I move my fingers faster, chasing the memory of the pleasure I’ve only ever experienced with him. “Shadow,” I pant again and work my fingers faster, harder. I’m wet and my eyes are closed when I hear the sound of the bathroom door open.

Shadow stands in just a towel, his hair and beard damp from a shower.

My eyes fly open, and I realize that I am not asleep and I am not dreaming. Shadow’s bare chest, muscular, hairy, and covered in tattoos, tightens as he releases the towel and tosses it over the towel bar.

“You wanna let me finish what you’ve started?” he asks, and then he climbs in bed beside me.