Raid (Unfinished Hero 03)

“Hanna—”

“I need to get home. Get some sleep. I have to be up early. Church tomorrow,” I babbled, still pushing at his shoulders and squirming under him, freaked, humiliated, scared of what he would think of me now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“Hanna, look at me.”

“Really, I need to get going.”

“Baby.” His arms moved from around me so his hands could frame my face and he held it firm in a way that I stopped struggling and squirming. “What the fuck?”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” I announced.

I felt his body, which I hadn’t noticed was tense, relax but this had absolutely no effect on me.

I kept talking.

“Never has that happened. Not ever. Not ever. I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t even remember a time when I’ve been in a car without a seatbelt much less what… what…” Oh God! “What we did,” I finished on a horrified whisper.

“Calm down for me a second,” he urged gently, one of his thumbs sweeping my cheek.

That felt nice, but no way could I calm down.

No way.

“I… you… I don’t want you to think I’m that kind of girl. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t know what that was. I don’t know how that happened. It’s never happened before. I don’t—”

I stopped speaking abruptly when his thumb shifted to my lips and pressed in.

“Honey, shut up,” he ordered, but he did it laughing.

Belatedly, I noticed not only his mouth but his entire body was laughing.

“Raiden—” I tried to say but it came out sounding smushed, mainly because his thumb was still smushing my lips.

“Quiet and listen to me,” he stated. “I know you’re not that kind of girl.”

I blinked through the dark.

“You do?” I asked through smushed lips, and his thumb slid away.

“Yeah, or, I should say, I know you’re not that kind of girl for anyone, but me but what you gotta know is that it’s all kinds of fuckin’ good you’re that girl for me.”

I wanted to believe this.

I didn’t.

I mean, I had girlfriends who had moments where they were that kind of girl and the guys always said that it was good until the next day when they didn’t call.

“I really need to go home,” I told him, beginning to squirm again.

“No fuckin’ way,” he told me, and my body stilled.

“Sorry?” I breathed.

“Hanna, honest to Christ, you think out there I get you dorky, head on my shoulder at a movie, holding my hand, riding that preposterous bike, smilin’ sweet at me, totally Peggy Sue throwback from the fuckin’ fifties, and in my arms, my mouth on yours, you ignite for me. You lose all fuckin’ control. Give me fuckin’ everything. And I’m gonna let you crawl outta my bed and go home?” He paused then finished, his voice steely, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I—” I started but Raiden interrupted me.

“It’s good you give me that. I want that. And I’m fuckin’ beside myself knowin’ you didn’t give some other asshole that before me. It’s mine. I’m keepin’ it.”

Holy Moses.

“Raiden—”

“And I’m gonna take more,” he declared.

He was?

That was… he wanted more?

“You are?”

“Baby, last night, those kisses, I hoped to Christ that was a preview of things to come and I’m fuckin’ thrilled it was. Out there, you can ride that silly-ass bike, but now I know, in my bed, you’re gonna let go for me. You’re gonna let me play with that body. You’re gonna let me work you ‘til you’re so fuckin’ wet you’re drenched for me. And when I let you come I’m gonna make it feel like you’re coming apart at the seams. And only I’m gonna know you give me that. Only I’m gonna get that. And I’m fuckin’ overjoyed that’s all for me and only me.”

Wow.

That was hot, cool, sexy, sweet and totally freaking scary.

It was so much of all of those, the only response I could come up with was, “My bike isn’t silly.”

“Babe, it is.”

“It’s cutesie and girlie,” I defended my bike

“It’s that too. Absolutely,” he agreed.

I tilted my head on the mattress and tried to make out his features in the dim light before I asked, “Are you sure you don’t think I’m slutty and easy?”

To that, he hauled us both up the bed and pressed into me. He reached out an arm and I blinked when a light flashed on.

I stopped blinking when my head was again framed by his big hands and I focused on his face which was all I could see.

“Do I look sure?” he asked, and I didn’t know how he knew how he looked.

What I did know was that his expression was warm and sweet, but still somehow firm and his beautiful eyes were heated, burning into me.

So I knew he was sure.

Still.

“Just so you know, I’ve only had three lovers. They were all long-term boyfriends and, if memory serves, the one where we uh… got to the business fastest, it took three weeks.”

“Do not tell me that shit.”

Oh boy.

Now he didn’t look warm and sweet.

He looked hard and scary.

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