She smiled. “Do it, then.” Air whooshed into her lungs, and she opened her mouth to scream.
His lips crushed hers. He captured her yell in his throat, driving the air back down hers. Then his tongue took hers, mastering it, taking what he wanted. Desire lit him on fire. His cock leapt to life, fighting against his zipper to get loose. To get in her. Now.
He was going to have her. Taste her, tame her, feel her shatter in his arms. Taking the kiss deeper, he explored, seeking answers and relief. Relief from this primal need for one small woman who looked like an angel and turned him into a devil. Deep down, if he took her, no matter what, good guy or bad guy, he knew he’d never let her go. Suddenly, he no longer cared.
Shouts echoed back at the house, yanking him back to reality. Danger surrounded them.
He lifted his head. “We don’t have time for this.” One finger slid into a tiny hole in her shirt and he tugged. Fabric ripped.
She frowned. “Hey—”
A strip of the cotton ripped free, and he flipped her around, tying her wrists together.
Her small body jumped around. She shot a kick to his knee. He grabbed another strip of shirt to shove between her teeth, tying the jagged material behind her head. Her eyes widened with surprise and then pure, raw fury.
He dipped and tossed her over his shoulder. She kicked out. A muffled “oof” escaped him. The woman had grit. She kicked again, and he turned his head, sinking his teeth into her thigh. She tasted like strawberries. “Knock it off.” He secured his arm across her legs, ensuring no more kicks.
The gag softened her response, but rage echoed in the low tone.
Grabbing his sleeping bag, he jogged into the forest toward the old logging road. A truck he’d stolen earlier in the day waited.
She continued to struggle, muffled curses leaking from behind the gag. Possibly a death threat or two.
Women. Tough to deal with. A memory filtered across his conscious. A woman’s voice. When dealing with women, undercover or otherwise, seduction was a valid technique. To gain information, to gain trust. Seduction? Shane had the uneasy feeling he’d been trained in more than hand-to-hand combat.
His arm loosened at the thought. Had he used those skills on his wife? Was she just a job to whoever he used to be? Josie aimed a hard kick to his lower belly.
Pain slammed through his abdomen. Maybe he should’ve knocked her out.
*
“You’re going to wish you’d knocked me out.” Josie flopped on the bed like a fish, struggling to get out of the sleeping bag. The bastard had left her hands tied and zipped her into the bag, buckling her in the seat of a large Ford for the two-hour drive. To this dive of a motel three counties over.
She kicked off the bag, not caring that her bare legs showed. “You ripped my shirt.”
Shane reached into a duffel bag and tossed one at her head. “You may borrow mine.” He pivoted, his gaze dropping to her legs, his nostrils flaring. The tension in the room rose. Two steps and he stood at the bed, turning her and quickly untying her hands before flipping her back around. “Here’s the deal. You behave. No screaming, no running, and you’ll stay untied and ungagged.” He leaned into her, both hands on the gaudy comforter on either side of her legs.
Heat cascaded off him to warm her. The room was small and intimate, and the scent of male tempted her senses. The man had carried her so easily, taking control without a thought. She breathed out, and his gaze dropped to her breasts. “Not a chance, Shane.” Her voice emerged huskier than she’d hoped. “You can’t keep me here.”
He leaned farther into her space. “Fuck with me, angel, and you’ll regret it.”
The warmth in his eyes had fled. Hard lines cut into his rugged face while a muscle pounded in his jaw. Maybe the last kick to his stomach had truly pissed him off. A shiver shook her shoulders. She didn’t know him like this. For the very first time, she wondered if she wanted to know the real Shane. “Just let me go.”
“No.” He straightened and back away. “Whatever’s going on is my fault. I brought them here… right to you.” His broad hand grabbed a gun from the second bed, and he checked the clip. “Tonight, at Marsh’s, they were coming for you. Not me, you.”
“Why?” She hated that her voice trembled.
Shane shrugged. “To get to me, I assume.” He pierced her with a hard gray gaze. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You may not trust me, but you can trust that. You’re safe.”
Safe? She was alone in a freaking motel room with a killer who’d broken her heart. How safe could that be? Even assuming he wouldn’t kill her, which frankly, she believed he wouldn’t, how could she survive staying with him? Not a chance in hell he wouldn’t kiss her again. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d stop him. So much fire between them.
Passion was a dangerous drug.
She knew it firsthand.
She’d spent two solid years in withdrawal.