Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Trapped.
The smell of gasoline. Toxic fumes. Sirens wailing in the distance. Screams of people he couldn’t see.
Something warm dripped into his eyes. Throat raw and burning.
A groan.
He turned to Adam…
No. Please, God, no.
Bang, bang, bang…
Something smashed through the car’s rear window.
Cole rolled to his back, eyes flying open.
The banging in his head continued, but the sound became distorted, morphing into a boom, boom, boom.
An incessant thump of a bass beat, rattling his apartment windows.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he let out a shuddering breath and worked at shaking off the confusion, the fear. His body was coated in cold sweat, shivering. The sensation of being trapped still with him.
Shoving back the sheet, he sat up. His body was covered in reminders of that day, scars that told the story of all he’d endured. His left leg was more scar tissue than healthy skin. His vocal cords irreparably damaged. He’d never be the same again.
Sometimes he wished he’d lost the leg completely. Maybe it would’ve helped with the guilt, the guilt that he’d survived when Adam hadn’t been so lucky.
Holding his knee, he maneuvered his leg from the bed.
It was stiffer in the mornings, ached like a bitch, too.
A constant reminder of what he’d done. He’d allowed emotion to take over, and because of that he’d made a phenomenally bad judgment call.
All it had taken was a split second’s loss of concentration, and he’d caused the death of a good man.
Like he could ever forget.
The noise coming from outside got louder. He tagged his jeans from the floor, yanking them on, and limped to the kitchen window.
And immediately wished he hadn’t.
The music was coming from Piper’s, of course. The woman loved music, always had, and she liked it loud. All the doors and windows were open so she could hear it outside. The sun was up, the heat of another day already making itself known, lighting up her pale blond hair like a halo.
Piper stood on a chair, painting the window trim of her cottage.
She had on shorts that were near indecent.
The smooth golden skin of her thighs making him think of squeezing them in his hands, of spreading them, wrapping them around his waist. The top she wore clung to her, and when she lifted her arms to reach a higher section, her full breasts lifted as well, swaying and bouncing as she moved.
The woman was either not wearing a bra or one that struggled to hold all that she had going on.
Piper’s breasts had taken a starring role in more than a few of his fantasies. What would they feel like overflowing in his hands? Would her nipples be brown or pink? Would they turn cherry red after he’d sucked and nipped them, until she was writhing beneath him, begging for his tongue, his cock?
The song changed, and she did a little dance, shaking her round ass, and he bit back a curse. Couldn’t she stay in her house for one damn day? When she wasn’t working, she was outside, parading around her backyard in next to nothing.
A car full of young guys drove past, and they honked and hollered out the window at her. Piper just shook her head and carried on painting. The car did a U-turn, and when they drove past again, they slowed right down, and the comments fired out the window were a lot more suggestive.
Before he knew what he was doing, he had the door open and was halfway down the stairs.
He limped across the parking lot, the asphalt hot beneath his bare feet, the sun heating the skin of his shoulders and back.
He hadn’t even put a shirt on, but right then didn’t care.
He ignored it all, couldn’t think straight.
He sure as hell couldn’t take much more of this.
He was close to breaking point. Pushed to the brink by flimsy, pink satin nighties, orange lace panties, short shorts, and tiny goddamn bikini tops. He was this close to dragging her into her girly pink bedroom and fucking her into the mattress.
What am I doing?
The car full of guys had gone, but he was still moving forward. He needed to turn around and go back inside.
But he couldn’t do it.
He had to get close to her, had to be close to her.
He was suddenly desperate for just a hint of her strawberry scent—the body wash or shampoo she used, mixed with Piper’s own unique sweetness.
Whatever it was, it was fucking addictive.
He needed a close-up look at those full lips, needed to feel those soft blue eyes on him.
Needed to hear her voice, her laugh. He just needed her.
He didn’t stop until he was standing right behind her, her succulent ass almost at eye level. An ass that was out for the whole damn world to see.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, before he could stop himself, before he could tame the anger, the hunger, the frustration that came through loud and clear in his broken voice.
He felt like an animal, and right then he was fucking ravenous.
She squeaked, wobbled on the chair, and grabbed for the window frame, missed, lost her balance, and tumbled back. He reached out, catching her before she hit the ground. Her breasts smashed against his chest, fingernails digging into his bare shoulders, making him groan.
No bra. Just thin fabric between his bare chest and hers. “Jesus, Piper.”
She stared up at him, eyes wide, stunned, then she snapped out of it and slapped his shoulder. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“That chair’s not stable. You could have broken your damn neck.” She still hadn’t let him go, and he struggled to breathe evenly.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. “Whose fault is that?”
He tightened his arms, pulling her in closer. His cock, which was already hard, got even harder when he felt her nipples stiffen, grazing his chest. Jesus. He tilted his hips back. The last thing she wanted was some sad asshole getting hard again while she was pressed up against him.
“You’re drawing a crowd. Maybe you should cover yourself up, yeah?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. She shoved at his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
Her cheeks turned pink, eyes flashing. “Hardly a crowd. It was one car, Cole. And I can’t see how the way I dress would affect you.” She scowled. “Besides, I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“I was asleep, until you started blasting music loud enough to rattle the windows.” What was he doing? Let her go. Walk away. “Shouldn’t you be working in the garage?” Where you’re mostly covered up and your delectable body isn’t on display for any asshole to see.
She shrugged, which smooshed her tits harder against his chest. “We decided to have a weekend off.”
She clung to his shoulders, and it felt good, too damn good. It would be so easy to wrap her legs around his waist and press her against the side of the house. Take that pouty mouth and fucking devour it.
He reluctantly let her go. It was either that or come across as even more of a pervert than he already was where Piper was concerned.
Of course that only made things worse. The sudden movement caused her nipples to drag down his chest. The soft heat of her body lingering, as though she’d branded him.
He watched her, fighting an internal battle to keep his hands to himself.
Her taste, her smell had been etched into his senses, and he wanted more.
Jesus, he was hard, and so wound up he was on the verge of splintering apart.
She stumbled back a step and lifted a hand to her blond hair, which she’d piled on her head in a messy bun, and brushed the loose strands back from her face. She stared at his chest for a few beats, no doubt horrified by the scars marking his body.
He waited for her to look up, waited to see the disgust, the pity on her face, stiffening when she lifted her heart-shaped face to his, bracing for what was coming.
But there was no pity, no disgust when she looked at him.
No, there was something else entirely. Her cheeks were flushed, lips a darker shade of pink than usual.
And when she bit down on the lower one, forcing the top one to puff out in a way that was extremely sexy—he wanted desperately to pull her back into his arms and suck on it.
But it was her eyes that got to him most, they were bright and… fuck…hungry.
He struggled to breathe, so far gone that raw lust pounded into him, had him close to the edge, close to insanity.
“In the future, keep the music down. And put some fucking clothes on when you’re outside.
” And as it turned out, jealous as hell.
He didn’t want anyone else to see her like this.
In his mind Piper was his. He’d claimed her as his when she was seventeen years old—he just hadn’t gotten around to telling her.
He was behaving like a prize prick, could barely believe the shit coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t deal with what he’d seen in Piper’s gaze, couldn’t process what it might mean. Being an asshole to her was the only way he knew to keep her at a distance.
She blinked several times, and the heat vanished as fast as it came, replaced by a different kind of heat.
Fire. “Fine. But in future, if you want me to turn the music down? Send me a text. You have no right coming over here, bossing me around, and you certainly have no right commenting on the way I dress. If I want to parade around in…in…naked…while I paint my windows, I will. There’s a simple solution to prevent your tender sensibilities from being offended by the way I look, and that’s not to look. ”
Offended? “Piper…I didn’t mean…”
“I know exactly what you meant. It’s not like you haven’t made your feelings about me perfectly clear.”
What? “Hang on a minute…”