by Kensie King
Yes. Yes, I wanted him to come in. The word was right there, on the tip of my tongue. But it wouldn’t come out. Something was holding me back.
His free hand slid to my waist and then gripped my hip, pulling me even harder against him. “A few minutes if that’s all you want.”
I swallowed, started to nod, and then the phone rang from inside my room.
I blinked, and I swore he cursed. Then I laughed and eased away. “I should get this.”
And it was perfect timing, because I’d almost been ready to let him in. I had no clue who would be calling me on the room phone instead of my cell phone but it was my excuse.
When he just continued to stand there, I walked inside and grabbed the phone off the table. “Hello?” There wasn’t a response so I said again, “Hello?”
A click sounded on the other end.
“Wrong number?” Gage asked from the doorway, keeping his distance since I hadn’t technically invited him in.
I returned the phone to its cradle and stepped to the door again, just out of his reach. I released a breath, suddenly tired. “Must have been a wrong number,” I confirmed. “I’m going to take that shower.”
He hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks for tonight. Sorry it didn’t go quite as planned.”
More sorry than I expected, actually, because I really thought I would have enjoyed dinner with Gage. He was quick on his feet, sexy as hell, and there was a part of him that was wrapped up in mystery. I had a feeling I might enjoy unwrapping that puzzle.
But not tonight. Gage stepped back. “No problem. Maybe we can try again some other time.”
“I could get behind that.”
I moved closer to the door, not sure how to end the evening. A handshake? Goodnight kiss?
Instead, I looked to the sky. “It’ll be a full moon in a few days.”
He followed my gaze and smiled. “That part of the job, too? Following the phases of the moon?”
“Don’t see why not.” Might come in handy. I grinned at him. “There’s a lot about me that doesn’t fit your standard mold.”
“Maybe that’s why I want to get to know you better.”
Before I could respond, he stepped up to me again and gripped my waist. He hauled me against his body and his mouth collided with mine. The instant jolt of surprise hit me hard in my groin and sent desire racing through me. It was heat and speed and I was lost for a moment, my mouth moving against his as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He gave a soft groan of pleasure and then moved his mouth to my cheek and then down my jaw to my throat.
It lingered there as his fingers dug into my hips. His thumb moved under my shirt, brushing the skin of my abdomen and sparking more need within me.
It sparked something else, too, which scared the hell out of me. I fumbled for his hand. “Gage.”
His arms were so tight around me, I could barely move. His cock was like iron between us, and I couldn’t help the flash of him I had in my mind. The same one from earlier, except this time we were in the hotel room and he was naked.
“I’m ignoring that,” Gage said, humor in his voice.
I shoved at his chest gently but smiled. “Can’t. Rules are rules.”
“Rules?” he asked, reaching for me again.
I sidestepped his hands. “No touching. Not right now. Not if that’s going to happen every time I’m around you.”
“What’s the harm in that?”
“No harm. Just not now,” I said, then regretted it. Maybe not ever. But it had nothing to do with how much I wanted him. I just didn’t want to hurt him.
He groaned, this time in frustration, but backed all the way to the rail. He held his hands up. “Okay. Gotcha. There’s a time and place for everything and this isn’t it. Not standing outside a haunted hotel either.”
“Exactly.”
“I hear you loud and clear,” he said, still smiling.
“I hope so.”
His grin widened. “You’re…interesting, Lincoln. Link. I like it.”
“Good to hear. You’re interesting, too, but still standing outside my room.”
“Ha.” He laughed. “All right, I get the hint. I’m going. And…sleep well.”
His last words almost sounded like a threat. Or maybe a promise. Maybe he knew just how difficult it would be for me to sleep when I was thinking about his body pressed against mine, the hard outline of his dick bulging in his jeans, pressing against my hip bone and longing for a release.
I closed the door tightly, releasing a breath. Fuck. He was hot. And now he’d made me hot, and it would have been really nice to have somewhere to channel that pent-up energy.
It had been so long.
But…
Last time I’d been kissed, I’d been in a dorm room and saying no hadn’t been enough for the other guy. I’d told him I wasn’t ready and he hadn’t listened. So I’d done the only thing I could at that moment, and that was lashing out with the fire from within. I hadn’t had any clue what I was doing, I was just trying to get him off of me.
One minute he was there and the next…his arms were on fire.
He was screaming. Screams I’ll never forget.
I couldn’t control it then and I wasn’t sure if I could control it now. So, no matter how much I wanted Gage, I needed to take it slow.
Or not take it at all.
That was partly why I’d come. I thought maybe my mother could help.
But now, I had no clue where she was and it seemed like there might only be one other person who could give me answers.
Dylan.
#
Ideally, I would have walked up to his door, banged on it until he opened up, and demanded answers. And my book back. But when I got to Dylan’s house, it was dark. There weren’t any lights on in the windows. Not even the porch light.
And his truck wasn’t in the drive.
Fuck.
I was tired of waiting around for answers. And I was tired of Dylan James.
I squeezed my fingers on the steering wheel while I debated what to do. I’d already set things on fire in the library. Arson. Or something similar. What would it hurt to add breaking and entering to my list?
Sounded like a better idea than being reasonable and waiting for his ass to show up.
Besides, he started this whole mess. If I was going down for breaking and entering, so was he. You know, as long as he was the one who’d actually taken my book in the first place.
Without thinking it through anymore, I whipped out of the drive and then quickly parked next door at my mom’s house. It was enough back that he wouldn’t see it if he came home, even if he was looking.
I snagged a flashlight from the glove compartment and tucked it into my pocket. I didn’t have a shortage of flashlights in my car and found myself grateful that I was already prepared. Though I hadn’t really been prepared for a whispering ghost in the hotel tonight, but…I would be from now on.
After Gage had left earlier, I’d decided against the shower right away and figured I might as well get this part of the night over and done with. But I’d changed into darker jeans and a t-shirt, and pulled on combat boots that gave me support and finished the whole dark ensemble.
Must have known somewhere deep inside that I’d need camouflage.
I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and then got out of the car.
I kept my eye out and listened for noises, especially of cars. Dylan’s truck. If I was going to do this, snoop around his house, the last thing I needed was for him to catch me. Small towns didn’t tend to like locals much anyway, let alone ones with criminal tendencies.
I jogged around the hedge and took the steps to the porch two at a time. For good measure, I knocked. Just to be sure.
No one answered.
On a whim, I grabbed the handle and found it locked. Bummer. Didn’t small-town folk trust each other? I thought they always left their doors unlocked. Especially someone like Dylan. I me
an, he was the thief around here. It was him stealing from other people’s homes, not the other way around.
Until now.
With my flashlight, I examined the windows in front, hoping to find one of them unlocked. Or even better, open. But no such luck.
With a frown, I walked to the side of the house again, hunting for another window. There were two of them in wells by the basement.
Not sure how much time I had, I hopped in the back one since it was further out of sight and ducked down among spider webs. Something squished beneath my feet but I tried to ignore what I might be stepping on and gripped the edge of the window. My fingertips turned white at the pressure, but then the window budged. It took a few tugs but then it was open far enough I could squeeze inside.
My leather jacket squeaked against the frame as I shoved my body inside, legs first, and then dropped to the cement below. I whipped the flashlight around, taking stock of where I was. A regular unfinished basement with a few boxes and a recliner. Simple and easy to maneuver through.
I raced to the stairs and took those two at a time as well, to get up into a hallway. I headed for the living room first, wincing every time a board creaked underfoot.
When I turned the corner, I slammed into an end table and nearly send a lamp crashing to the floor.
“Shit,” I hissed, catching it just in time.
It was so dark, the only way I could check the surfaces was with the flashlight. And I didn’t find anything. No book, no secrets, nothing to hold against him.
Or hold hostage until he returned my book.
Fuck.
I heard a car outside and froze. But after a moment I saw lights that pass by and vanish down the street. Hurry, my brain screamed.
I had no clue where Dylan was tonight, but I hoped it was at a bar. Where he planned on having several more drinks so he’d be gone for a long time. Maybe he was with the rude librarian and they were talking about me.
Again, hopefully for a very long time.
After rushing through the kitchen and still not finding the book, I headed upstairs, throwing caution to the wind this time. I didn’t care if I was noisy, I just wanted my book back.
I nearly tripped over a pair of work boots by the door of a bedroom. But it looked lived in, which meant it was probably Dylan’s.
It was surprisingly cozy, with a large wooden bed and comfortable bedding. There was even a decent window treatment.
But Gage had said Dylan flipped houses. Maybe he decorated them, too. Or he had someone do it for him.
I snickered in the darkness. Probably his mom.
A noise sounded downstairs. My breath caught and I froze.
Then I heard the front door opening.
Shit, shit, shit. Now what?
I hesitated as I started out the room, then cursed again when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Fuck, he was coming up. And fast.
I backed up and then debated for a long minute before ducking back into the room. I couldn’t get out that way. I was stuck up here.
Turning around, I spotted another door. A closet? I opened it as quietly as possible and relief flooded my body when I saw it was a walk-in.
In the next breath, I shut myself inside and listened as heavy footsteps topped the stairs.
And they were coming in my direction.
Chapter 6
I heard the sound of a switch flipping and immediately a sliver of light appeared beneath the closet door. I eased back automatically, sinking into the hanging clothes. Lots of flannel that smelled surprisingly nice and warm.
Holding completely still, I watched the bottom of the door and listened as I heard his footsteps approaching. My hand squeezed tight on the flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. Kind of like the first time I saw him and considered hitting him with it then.
That’s not the only weapon you have, a quiet voice said inside of me. But the idea of using the fire as a weapon was terrifying—I had way too little control over it.
The shadow of feet appeared, making me hold my breath. I heard the sound of him clearing his throat and I was certain for a moment that he knew I was there. But then he moved away, turning off the light as he walked from the room.
After the footsteps vanished, I got a good grip on the flashlight and opened the door slowly. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust but it was just the same, dark room in front of me.
With an end table. I hadn’t looked there before—hadn’t had time.
I reached over, hand stretching out, just as the overhead lights came on.
Spinning around, I wielded the flashlight in front of me when I saw Dylan’s murderous look.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” he asked.
“Huh?” I glanced around, playing dumb. “This isn’t my mom’s house? I guess I got—”
“Cut the bullshit.”
His hands fisted at his sides when he stepped forward. It wasn’t hard to see the sheer strength in his arms through his tight shirt, or the trimness of his waist in dark wash jeans. He clearly worked out, and even though I was quick on my feet, he could probably take me.
I held out the flashlight, figuring it was heavy enough to do some damage if necessary. “Don’t come any closer.”
He arched an eyebrow, looking almost amused. “You’re in my house. You’re an intruder. I can do whatever I want to you and no one’s going to bat an eyelash.”
Despite my bravado, fear still made a swift circuit through my body. Dylan had proven that he couldn’t care less about the whole law against breaking and entering and practically assaulting me in the library. What else would he do?
The only thing I knew was that I had to get out of here.
Without another thought or any indication of what I was planning, I hurled the flashlight at him and ran. He deflected it easily as I tried to rush past him. One arm snagged me around my waist and then whipped me back hard and fast. Quick enough my feet nearly came off the ground and I felt just how strong he was.
With those same strong arms, he pinned me against the wall, making my breath rush out.
“Get off!” I yelled in his face, but he only held tighter, fingers holding me to the surface.
I hitched up my knee, not above getting him in the groin, but he moved close enough his body touched mine the entire way down, holding me in place.
“Stop it,” he snapped. “Now.”
“Get off,” I answered through gritted teeth.
“Tell me what you’re doing here.”
“I came to get my book. The one you stole from my hotel room.”
He straightened just slightly, looking almost surprised. But it was enough for me to wedge my arms between us. Flames sparked from my fingertips, shooting so close to his face he jumped back. With my heart pumping hard, I took the moment to run for it. My boots thudded hard on the stairs and I nearly fell on the last two when my foot slipped.
I grabbed the post for balance and heard Dylan right behind me. I lunged for the door and tugged the handle, cursing when it didn’t budge.
Still locked.
Dylan gripped my arms again and whipped me around. This time I didn’t hesitate, just swung and landed a punch on his jaw. He dove into me, knocking me to the ground and slamming one elbow against the hardwood floor, enough to paralyze me for a brief moment.
Long enough that Dylan had the time to straddle me and pin my arms to the floor in a show of brilliant strength. Almost superhuman.
“That’s enough,” he panted, voice rough.
I tried bucking my hips underneath him but he barely moved. I hissed at him, “You stole my book.”
“It wasn’t yours to begin with. It belongs to your mom.”
My mouth opened for a quick retort, but he was right. It wasn’t mine any more than it was his. I swallowed hard. “I need answers. And I need to talk to her—my mom.”
“She’ll be back next week,” he said, shocking me silent. “You can come back then.”
I relaxed s
lightly, surprised at his admission. Not only that he knew where she was but that he was fine with me coming back to speak to her when before he seemed bent on making me leave town.
“Is that all you came here for, then?” he asked. “The book?”
I nodded.
He eased back slightly, removing some weight from my waist. His gaze softened only slightly. “If I let you go, you promise not to try to hit me again?”
I frowned and muttered, “You started it.”
His lips actually twitched, but he released my arms and got to his feet. I sat up and frowned again at the gentle ache in my arm. “Asshole,” I whispered under my breath.
He actually chuckled. “Not the first time I’ve been called that.”
“You can’t tell me you actually think you’re doing the right thing here—harassing me to get me to leave town?”
“You have no idea how right it is for you to leave. It’s for your own safety, too.”
He reached down to help me up but I swatted his hand away and climbed to my feet without his help. He moved to the door, propping his shoulder against it and folding his arms.
“What the hell?” I asked. “I thought you were going to let me go.”
“I am—as long as you promise to leave town. Go home right now and pack your bags—I’ll even help you.”
I crossed my arms and gritted my teeth, prepared to tell him exactly what he could do with his offer. But then he dropped his chin to stare at his shoes. To rub a hand on his stubbled jaw, making me pause.
When he looked up again, his eyes held worlds of words. Things I was suddenly almost afraid to hear.
“Listen,” he said quietly, “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. I get it. But this is real—what I’m doing. It’s for a reason. Your mom left town, too, just recently, because she’s trying to keep you and the town safe. If you follow in her footsteps, we’ll all be okay.” He quirked one corner of his lip. “And even better, you can come back.”
I frowned. “What?”
He nodded. “Just like that. You can come back the next day, no harm no foul. You just have to be out of here by Sunday night.”
“What happens Sunday night?”
