Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Oh my freaking goodness.
Breathe. Walk. Keep moving.
Legs shaking, heart skipping, I step into the house and fall back against the washing machine.
I don’t know what is happening to me. I’m hot. I’m cold. I’m pissed, I’m alarmed. I’m…disoriented.
The total effect is not a good feeling. If the doctor examined me right now, he’d cancel the dive. No way he’d let a crazy person suit up and go into a cave under fifty feet of water.
I need to get myself under control.
When the door flies open, I close my eyes and groan silently. In the next heartbeat Scout’s in front of me.
Too close .
Warm, with the scent of masculinity and rain lingering on him.
But all he does is breathe heavily. At me.
This fires up my attitude.
“It’s kind of small in here for a grumpy King and an irritated peasant.”
He looks up at the ceiling of laundry room and mutters, “Fuck.”
“Is that the only word you got? Because if you remember…”
When he lowers his gaze to mine, his pale blue eyes are more alive than I’ve ever seen them.
My complaint is instantly stolen.
Along with my ability to draw in a breath.
When he reaches up and touches my cheek with the back of his knuckles, my breath returns in a rush and my sanity shoots out of the top of my head like a bottle rocket.
His fingers brush lower, down my neck.
Time freezes. His touch is so shocking that every single one of my muscles, tiny to large, are locked up. As if by moving even the smallest amount, I might shatter whatever is happening.
Finally, a quiver moves through me.
My toes curl in my boots.
The way his gaze is locked on his hand makes my throat sting with emotion.
I‘ve never felt a more charged moment in my life.
Heat curls off his fingers, sinking deep into my hungry skin—so hungry for his hand, it’s a kind of desperation.
Raspy, he speaks in a low tone. “I can’t believe you.”
What? “Me?”
“Yeah, you, Aria Kane. ” He emphasizes the last word .
In the blink of an eye, the connection is gone. The energy around him shifts, turning cool.
All the little lines on his face tense as his eyes narrow. His hand snaps away from my neck, like he’s touched a hot stove burner.
But it’s too late. It’s been done. I’m trembling from it.
He’s going to bolt—I know it in my heart. He’s going to lock down and leave. It’s Scout’s M.O. and I’m beginning to know the plays before they happen.
This time I know the effect of his withdrawal is going to hit me even harder. I brace myself for the wake of stinging cold.
Ten heartbeats pass as I wait.
But when he moves, it’s not to leave. Both of his arms rise up and he cages me in by resting his forearms on the cabinet above the washing machine.
Whoa. Hello curveball.
I don’t know what’s about to happen right now, but my body is one hundred percent onboard with him moving closer. Pressing all of his tall, muscled frame into me.
But he doesn’t. He keeps his distance, except for moving his mouth closer to my ear. And he says nothing. Every one of his exhales stir my hair.
It’s agonizing. Yet I don’t ever want him to move.
The function of my lungs reduces to dizzying pants. Each of my heartbeats makes my knees weaker. My hands curl as I fight to keep from touching him.
I need to feel his skin like I need air.
In a low, rough voice, he slays the silence. “You’re making me fucking crazy, Aria. After we dive today, we’re going to put an end to this bullshit, whatever it is.”
Mouth going instantly dry, I suffer through a series of palpitations.
“Okay,” I lamely reply in a choked voice.
Okay?
Okay? Gah! Couldn’t I even ask what he means? Is he promising a good end, or a bad end?
I’m seriously confused right now. Not enough oxygen is getting to my brain. Or maybe my vagina is using it all up.
God knows it’s been getting a workout with all the pulsing going on below my belt.
I’ll be a kegel olympian after this. Not to mention the organ in my chest. Anticipation isn't for the faint of heart.
From somewhere on the other side of his body, in another part of the house, I hear my name being called. “Aria!”
The sound is so surprising and I’m so keyed up, I startle, bumping my head on his arm, thrusting my hips forward, knocking against Scout’s erection.
His hard, monstrosity of an erection, that is so big it has to be a registered weapon.
Gulp.
Scout’s boss continues talking from somewhere in the house. “Aria, your brother’s on the phone and needs to talk to you!”
Oh my god!
I whisper hiss, “I cannot talk right now. I’m not even sure my legs will work.”
The other man bellows, “Aria!”
Before I realize what's happening, Scout’s palm is wrapped around the side of my throat in a firm, but gentle grip. The heat from that hand scorches my skin, making me shiver.
His voice drops to a growl. “Fuck Griff, he can wait.”
Whoa, baby. The hand on the throat thing is seriously hot .
The way he’s touching me is so commanding, so freaking taboo-feeling that I’m in serious danger of losing control of my actions. It’s a fight to keep my hands down.
Scout’s burning gaze slides across my features. His hard expression is as fierce as any Viking warrior. I’m so gone when this man looks at me.
I rasp out the only thing I can put together. “I need to go…”
All of my words are so shaky, you’d think the damned washing machine behind me was on the spin cycle.
Scout’s eyes burn hotter as if my distress is gasoline. “What’s wrong, little one. Are you scared now?”
Yes. Very.
I’m scared that I’m not afraid of him. I’m scared of the violent reaction in my womb. I’m scared that I can even be attracted after what happened.
I swallow and find my voice. “No. Let go.”
He laughs darkly.
The pressure of his hand falls away from my neck, making my skin flash cold, but his piercing crystal eyes stay locked on my lips.
Unblinking he stares.
I don’t know Scout well, but it feels like the armor is down and what’s behind it might be more than I can handle…
He’s big.
He’s clearly dominant.
And I’m in no way interested in being a victim of a man’s abuse again.
But even if my brain is screaming for me to run, my body has other plans.
Hot, dirty, plans that involve him.
I feel whatever this man is, from the icy slice of his razor-sharp edge, down to the pit of my stomach where some carnal need decides his dominance is just fine.
God. Run, Aria run. Before you make another mistake. You might not survive this one.
A grumble from behind Scout, blocked from my view by his shoulders, has my eyes going wide. I shrink down, not wanting anyone to see the mess I am.
His boss makes an annoyed sound. “Oh you two. Christ, like two teenagers, can’t you wait?—”
Scout's body revs up. Vibrating with anger, hulking over me protectively, he turns to snarl at his boss. “Get. Fucking. Lost.”