Read Online Disengaged: A Dangerously Forbidden Love Affair by Jamie A Magee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jamie A Magee
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moved away from the curb then drove on. Mrs. Jin lost her fake smile. “No work, no pay,” she said as she moved away from me, shaking her head, set on her path to the bus we would take, that dropped us off two blocks from her shop.
Slayton stared after her a bit bemused then slowly his gaze moved to me.
“Wa—was it clean enough?” I asked trying to look relaxed not for his benefit but anyone who might still be watching.
He stepped closer, his hand moved possessively around my waist as his gaze searched mine. “Hungry?”
“For words,” I said honestly.
He leaned into me and landed a soft kiss below my ear then whispered. “Not now.”
I dipped my head in defeat; he leaned back, brushed his lips across my forehead then pulled me to his bike.
This time, when I climbed behind him on his bike and formed my body around his and closed my eyes I let myself pretend we were running away from whatever this was. I didn’t care that I didn’t know him. The truth of the matter was he had done what my father constantly failed at doing; he protected me. The shameful part of it all was that I would forgive my father like I was raised to do. Then we’d ride this cycle of doom once more, until one of us was long gone from this world.
When Slayton stopped the bike again we were outside the same deli we had dinner at the night before. No one was there, but the second he parked his bike a dim light clicked on, a sleepy waitress unlocked the door and let us in. She locked the door behind us, gave me a shy grin and patted his chest, then vanished into the back.
We didn’t sit at the bar this time, but moved all the way to the back booth. At first I was glad he didn’t sit opposite of me, that I didn’t have to stare into the intensity of him. But then I realized I was flush against him. His hand dropped innocently to my thigh but the reaction of my body, the pooling desire I felt rushing to my core would’ve told you it was anything but.
“Are you helping me or playing me?” I asked in a whisper as I slowly looked up at him. Absorbing the addicting, angelic features I would never get enough of.
After a pause, he answered, “Helping.”
“Why?” I asked when I finally gathered enough nerve to look into his eyes. I felt myself needing—wanting to lean closer, to fall into him, this new dark rush in my life. I held back, which only scrambled my thoughts and forced me to hear my heart drumming in my ears. The intensity of his presence, undivided attention, was stroking every nerve in my body.
Slowly, too slowly, he reached to the side of my face, his thumb traced the bottom of my eye as his narrowed like he was looking into the sun. “Those eyes,” he said in a deep, smooth tone. “You’re beautiful. Innocent.”
I pressed my lips together, and I steadied my breath. “Because I’m pretty, that’s why? You’re risking your life and sparing my father because of that?”
I wasn’t trying to sound cold, or even ungrateful. But I wanted to know that my life was not spared for something as superficial as the way I looked, a momentary appearance of mine that would fade in time.
He leaned back stunned by the brashness emerging from the meek persona he’d known me to have. “No.”
“What is it then? What do I not know?”
“A lot,” he murmured, as he turned forward and propped his feet up on the opposite booth seat, and stared into the dark dining room.
He’d grazed a nerve of mine. The one my father likes to bump against. God help me, I could not sit there and take it.
“I’m not a pretty face, or stupid. I know my father has issues.”
Slayton glanced to my side as his body stiffened.
“But no, I don’t understand how bad they are or how dangerous.” I lifted my chin. “I know you paid some of his debt. And I know you had to fight because of it.”
He smirked which only made me angrier.
“What?” I asked moving away from him, being on the defense was helping to clear my head.
He glanced
Slayton stared after her a bit bemused then slowly his gaze moved to me.
“Wa—was it clean enough?” I asked trying to look relaxed not for his benefit but anyone who might still be watching.
He stepped closer, his hand moved possessively around my waist as his gaze searched mine. “Hungry?”
“For words,” I said honestly.
He leaned into me and landed a soft kiss below my ear then whispered. “Not now.”
I dipped my head in defeat; he leaned back, brushed his lips across my forehead then pulled me to his bike.
This time, when I climbed behind him on his bike and formed my body around his and closed my eyes I let myself pretend we were running away from whatever this was. I didn’t care that I didn’t know him. The truth of the matter was he had done what my father constantly failed at doing; he protected me. The shameful part of it all was that I would forgive my father like I was raised to do. Then we’d ride this cycle of doom once more, until one of us was long gone from this world.
When Slayton stopped the bike again we were outside the same deli we had dinner at the night before. No one was there, but the second he parked his bike a dim light clicked on, a sleepy waitress unlocked the door and let us in. She locked the door behind us, gave me a shy grin and patted his chest, then vanished into the back.
We didn’t sit at the bar this time, but moved all the way to the back booth. At first I was glad he didn’t sit opposite of me, that I didn’t have to stare into the intensity of him. But then I realized I was flush against him. His hand dropped innocently to my thigh but the reaction of my body, the pooling desire I felt rushing to my core would’ve told you it was anything but.
“Are you helping me or playing me?” I asked in a whisper as I slowly looked up at him. Absorbing the addicting, angelic features I would never get enough of.
After a pause, he answered, “Helping.”
“Why?” I asked when I finally gathered enough nerve to look into his eyes. I felt myself needing—wanting to lean closer, to fall into him, this new dark rush in my life. I held back, which only scrambled my thoughts and forced me to hear my heart drumming in my ears. The intensity of his presence, undivided attention, was stroking every nerve in my body.
Slowly, too slowly, he reached to the side of my face, his thumb traced the bottom of my eye as his narrowed like he was looking into the sun. “Those eyes,” he said in a deep, smooth tone. “You’re beautiful. Innocent.”
I pressed my lips together, and I steadied my breath. “Because I’m pretty, that’s why? You’re risking your life and sparing my father because of that?”
I wasn’t trying to sound cold, or even ungrateful. But I wanted to know that my life was not spared for something as superficial as the way I looked, a momentary appearance of mine that would fade in time.
He leaned back stunned by the brashness emerging from the meek persona he’d known me to have. “No.”
“What is it then? What do I not know?”
“A lot,” he murmured, as he turned forward and propped his feet up on the opposite booth seat, and stared into the dark dining room.
He’d grazed a nerve of mine. The one my father likes to bump against. God help me, I could not sit there and take it.
“I’m not a pretty face, or stupid. I know my father has issues.”
Slayton glanced to my side as his body stiffened.
“But no, I don’t understand how bad they are or how dangerous.” I lifted my chin. “I know you paid some of his debt. And I know you had to fight because of it.”
He smirked which only made me angrier.
“What?” I asked moving away from him, being on the defense was helping to clear my head.
He glanced
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