I swallow, forcing my eyes open. Keller is inches away, his bare chest nearly touching me. I drink in his skin, the dark ink slashing across taut, sweaty muscles. He brings his huge, taped hands to gently frame my face. “Tell me what happened so I can kill whoever made you feel like this.”
Those words, coming from someone as dangerous and as lethal as Keller, should frighten me. It’s a clear warning to run far away without looking back, because I have no doubt he would do exactly what he says. But to me? The words are a blanket of comfort, a warm fire to curl up in front of on a cold day. They’re the words I need to hear to feel safe, to silence the forgotten trauma that unnerves me each and every day. The time apart has only made me crave him more.
Without thinking, I lean into one of Keller’s hands. His thumb caresses my cheek, soothing, calming. My heart slows and I’m able to sort out my thoughts as the panic recedes.
“It’s just the crowd.. I get a little… freaked out sometimes.”
His eyes narrow as he thinks over this new information. “You get freaked out?”
I nod and lick my dry lips.
Shockingly, Keller chuckles, a sound I never thought to associate with him. “I don’t get it. You’re one of the bravest people I know and you’re afraid of a crowd?”
Shame rushes down my spine, releasing a flood of heat across my skin. “I’m not brave,” I whisper.
Keller lifts my chin and stares right into my eyes, our noses almost touching. “You are more than brave, Britt. You’re fearless. I’m in awe of you.”
The rough pad of his thumb leaves my cheek to brush over my lips. “I’m not.” My mouth scrapes against his thumb. The desire to pull it into my mouth and lave it with my tongue, to taste his salty sweat, is near overpowering.
Keller tilts my head back, our mouths a fraction of an inch apart. “You’re not afraid of me.”
I don’t hesitate to respond. “No. I’m not.”
“You should be.”
His mouth crashes down over mine, the kiss punishing yet somehow tender. My body melts and fire rips through me, sparking nerve endings that explode in a burst of white-hot desire. I grip his waist, pulling his hips flush against the edge of the table so I can wrap my legs around him. Keller groans into my mouth, his hands dropping to grab my backside so he can grind his hard length into the soft space between my thighs. He curses and reaches into his shorts, tossing his required cup to the floor.
“God, Britt. You make me so fucking crazy. You make me want things I haven’t thought of in years.” Keller lets go of my face to tug my shirt off. He bends me back, easing me down until I’m lying on the exam table, Keller still standing between my legs. “These need to go,” he snarls, yanking down my leggings and panties, leaving them around my ankles to bind them together.
I whimper as he draws a lone finger across my skin to the pulse point at my throat. He continues down, over my collarbone, between my breasts, stopping at my navel. My back arches into his touch, craving more, needing more.
“Harder,” I gasp. “Make me feel.”
“Shhhhh.” That wicked finger dips lower, tracing a path to my slick *. “You’ll get what I give you, baby. I know what you need.” Bending over, Keller bites one of my breasts through the thin lace of my bra. As the glorious pain shoots through my body, Keller thrusts several fingers inside my tight channel.
“Oh god!” My hips buck off the table and I scrabble for something to hold on to, my hands gripping his thick hair.
Keller withdraws his mouth and hand, stepping back.
“No!” The loss of his touch has me aching. Keller smiles, his eyes alight with desire.
“I would finger your * all day if I could.” Without a word, he grabs my hips and flips me over, landing a stinging blow across my ass. His large hand presses down on my lower back. “If I move my hand will you stay still?”
Panting, I control the urge to squirm and beg. “Yes.”
His hand vanishes and I can hear him rummaging around the room. When he comes back, he’s in front of me. I’m draped over the exam table, my feet on the ground, tangled in my pants, my naked ass in the air, and my torso laid out over the table.
Keller takes my hands and begins winding a red hand wrap around my wrists, over and under, again and again until he’s satisfied. “There. Don’t move,” he growls.
I test the bindings as he circles the table and a sharp, blistering slap lands across my backside.
“I said, don’t move.” Keller leans over me, the silky softness of his shorts sliding against my upturned ass. His tongue finds my left ear, plunging in, sending shivers rippling down my spine.
If he says something, I can’t hear it on that side, nor do I care. Keller puts one hand on each of my shoulders and drags them down my back, his blunt nails gouging into my skin.
“Ahhhhhhh!” My neck arches back at the sting of the scrapes.