Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
JULIETTE
There’s no hiding the quick panting breaths that are coming out of my mouth or the way my chest rises and falls with them. I don’t know why he’s here, and my mouth can’t move, so no word can be formed to ask him. All I can do is stare into his coal-black eyes.
They should scare me.
He should scare me.
But he doesn’t. My tongue peeks out as I slide it across the flesh of my bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. His eyes flick down to my mouth and watch the motion as his nostrils flare.
Wow.
I need to tell him to leave. Demand it, actually. But I don’t. Then his gaze drags up my face, slowly, to connect with mine again. My heart stops beating. It just stops right there in my chest, midbeat.
“Name’s Slade Voss,” he announces.
What a damn name. A great name, really. I don’t think I have ever met anyone with a name that dripped sex until this man. Maybe it’s more because the man himself drips sex, but still, wowza.
“You know my name.”
The words come out, and I feel so stupid for even saying them. Because no shit, he knows my name. He literally said it. And the way he did it was dripping with sex, too. I can’t think when I’m around him. This man makes me feel everything I swore I would avoid for the rest of my life.
“Cornered Alex last night and made him tell me. Also made him tell me where you were staying,” he murmurs.
He keeps his voice so low, his tone so even, that it feels like a warm blanket is being wrapped around me.
It makes me feel safe. I know I shouldn’t feel that way about this man, who is a contradiction.
He looks scary as hell in this leather, covered in tattoos, riding a bike, and smelling like sex and leather, but the way he speaks, the way he looks at me, I feel safe.
I’m stupid.
I already know this, because I know next to nothing about this man, but maybe I want someone to save me, and I’m allowing myself to feel like this man could be it. He could be the one who can protect me from Victor.
Pressing my lips together in a thin line, I swallow hard because I know I should absolutely not put Slade in the position of being my knight in leather. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. Because I very much do. It would be selfish and stupid, though.
Right? Yes. Right.
“Oh,” I exhale, because as soon as the sexy haze lifts, I realize what he’s just said.
Alex told him.
Which means… Alex has probably told him.
I open my mouth to try and say something, but I’m not sure what. Panic courses through my veins at the thought of him knowing everything. Well, at least knowing what Alex knows. He doesn’t know everything.
I close my mouth, then open it again, maybe to explain that Victor tricked me all those years ago. That I was young and dumb, and then I was scared and dumb. I didn’t know how to get out… if I’m being honest, I still don’t.
Thankfully, he puts me out of my misery and begins speaking before any of my words come out.
“He didn’t tell me anything else, and I didn’t ask. I know you’re running from something, hiding from it, but I want to hear it from you.”
“Why?” I ask before I really think about the word or about the question. It’s a big one.
His brows snap together, and then he grins, though just the corner of his lips tips up. It’s cute and sexy all at the same time. I have to ball my hand into a fist, my fingers itching to slide along his jawline and feel the stubble there.
He leans down slightly, his lips so close to mine that it would take very little effort for me to shift forward about half an inch and taste him. I don’t, but I really want to. He smiles, and my heart squeezes. He knows what he’s doing.
I shift my gaze from his mouth. My eyes find his, and my breath hitches. His black eyes are sparkling as he watches me.
Hot.
So damn hot.
“Slade,” I breathe.
His hand moves, but I’m too mesmerized by his gaze. I can’t look at his hand. My muscles jump when I feel his fingers gently glide up the center of my throat. My heart races even faster, slamming against my rib cage. A whisper of a touch, so damn gentle that I have to press my thighs together.
My belly dips and then heats at his touch.
“Because, Juliette,” he begins, “I want to hear about you from you. Not from someone else. I want to know you.”
I almost ask why again, because I cannot understand why this gorgeous man would want to know anything at all about me. I don’t ask that, though. Instead, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and tug at the flesh there.
I feel his thumb glide along my jawline before his arm falls away. I miss his touch instantly. I miss something I didn’t know I wanted, didn’t think I ever needed.
Touch.
A man’s touch.
One that doesn’t hurt.