Read Online Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6) by Jaime Rush - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaime Rush
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again.
If it wasn’t for him, she’d be dead. She shivered at all those realizations. He looked her way, as though sensing her attention on him. She felt that spark again, like the one in the bathroom when all she should have felt was anger and humiliation.
“You okay?” he asked, flicking the water from his hands.
She nodded, shrugged. “Everything’s really hitting me now.”
He walked over to the spigot and turned it off, grabbing a towel and drying his face and chest. She took off her leather gloves and met him where they’d put their work tools.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
“No, it won’t. This Torus knows about me, that I’m a person of interest in Frankie’s mauling. That I’m half of whatever he is. The next guy they send to kill me won’t be sorry. Frost will try to kill you again.”
She focused on the hollow at the base of his throat, afraid to meet his eyes and see either sympathy or compassion there.
“We could leave, start over somewhere else.”
“We?” She met his gaze on that.
“All of us. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to run off with me alone.” Though he was smiling, she saw something deeper in his expression. Something that said he was.
That he would even suggest pulling up roots to leave town with her . . .
She reached out to his bruises and ran her fingers over them. They disappeared, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps instead. A dull pain throbbed through her, a small price to pay for what he’d done for her. She stood very close to him, feeling his body heat, smelling smoke, dirt, and his own scent. Her fingers trembled as she erased the scrapes on his back and arm. When she returned to the hard ridges of his stomach, she couldn’t pull away.
“Shea,” he whispered, something raw in that one word.
She fell against him, pressing her cheek against his cool damp chest, closing her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, because she wanted to be here and was so scared to be here, too. Her hands flattened against his lower back, holding her in place.
His hands brushed against her head, fingers sliding through the strands. Something unfurled inside her at his touch, at the feel of him like a rock solid wall of strength, and the memory of how he pulled her into his arms when she’d needed that strength most. She felt as though she were walking a tightrope as she turned her head so that her mouth brushed his skin.
She felt the war inside her, that self-protective part urging her to pull back, a long-buried part of her crying out to be released. He felt so good, his fingers sliding down her neck, and then he tilted her head and leaned down toward her. She saw the question in his eyes as his thumbs stroked her lips. Whatever he saw answered it. He leaned farther down and touched his mouth to hers. She had noticed his mouth before, lower lip full, and it felt warm and soft as it covered hers in a gentle kiss.
His hands slid down over her arms in long, slow strokes, sliding to her waist. She had a flashback of hands on her, holding her down. No, Greer’s not doing that. He’s not even touching you anywhere intimate.
She knew he wouldn’t, not knowing what he did about her. Not Greer.
Greer, who was a good man, even if he did turn into a panther. A good man who didn’t need to get tangled up with someone like her. She stepped back, to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry.” She looked down, her fingers on her mouth because it still tingled. “I can’t do this. I haven’t . . .” She shook her head, still averting her gaze. “Not since then.”
Of course, Greer wouldn’t let her avoid him. He gently guided her face to look at him. “I understand you went through something terrible. Beyond horrible. But it’s time to stop hiding yourself. To stop not letting yourself feel sensuality. Because I can see that you want it, need it.” He rubbed his thumb at the center of her collarbone. “We all need a human touch.”
She shook her head. “You don’t
If it wasn’t for him, she’d be dead. She shivered at all those realizations. He looked her way, as though sensing her attention on him. She felt that spark again, like the one in the bathroom when all she should have felt was anger and humiliation.
“You okay?” he asked, flicking the water from his hands.
She nodded, shrugged. “Everything’s really hitting me now.”
He walked over to the spigot and turned it off, grabbing a towel and drying his face and chest. She took off her leather gloves and met him where they’d put their work tools.
“It’ll be okay,” he said.
“No, it won’t. This Torus knows about me, that I’m a person of interest in Frankie’s mauling. That I’m half of whatever he is. The next guy they send to kill me won’t be sorry. Frost will try to kill you again.”
She focused on the hollow at the base of his throat, afraid to meet his eyes and see either sympathy or compassion there.
“We could leave, start over somewhere else.”
“We?” She met his gaze on that.
“All of us. Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to run off with me alone.” Though he was smiling, she saw something deeper in his expression. Something that said he was.
That he would even suggest pulling up roots to leave town with her . . .
She reached out to his bruises and ran her fingers over them. They disappeared, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps instead. A dull pain throbbed through her, a small price to pay for what he’d done for her. She stood very close to him, feeling his body heat, smelling smoke, dirt, and his own scent. Her fingers trembled as she erased the scrapes on his back and arm. When she returned to the hard ridges of his stomach, she couldn’t pull away.
“Shea,” he whispered, something raw in that one word.
She fell against him, pressing her cheek against his cool damp chest, closing her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, because she wanted to be here and was so scared to be here, too. Her hands flattened against his lower back, holding her in place.
His hands brushed against her head, fingers sliding through the strands. Something unfurled inside her at his touch, at the feel of him like a rock solid wall of strength, and the memory of how he pulled her into his arms when she’d needed that strength most. She felt as though she were walking a tightrope as she turned her head so that her mouth brushed his skin.
She felt the war inside her, that self-protective part urging her to pull back, a long-buried part of her crying out to be released. He felt so good, his fingers sliding down her neck, and then he tilted her head and leaned down toward her. She saw the question in his eyes as his thumbs stroked her lips. Whatever he saw answered it. He leaned farther down and touched his mouth to hers. She had noticed his mouth before, lower lip full, and it felt warm and soft as it covered hers in a gentle kiss.
His hands slid down over her arms in long, slow strokes, sliding to her waist. She had a flashback of hands on her, holding her down. No, Greer’s not doing that. He’s not even touching you anywhere intimate.
She knew he wouldn’t, not knowing what he did about her. Not Greer.
Greer, who was a good man, even if he did turn into a panther. A good man who didn’t need to get tangled up with someone like her. She stepped back, to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry.” She looked down, her fingers on her mouth because it still tingled. “I can’t do this. I haven’t . . .” She shook her head, still averting her gaze. “Not since then.”
Of course, Greer wouldn’t let her avoid him. He gently guided her face to look at him. “I understand you went through something terrible. Beyond horrible. But it’s time to stop hiding yourself. To stop not letting yourself feel sensuality. Because I can see that you want it, need it.” He rubbed his thumb at the center of her collarbone. “We all need a human touch.”
She shook her head. “You don’t
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