Steel Vengeance (Blackthorn Security #6)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

O h. My. God.

Sloane stared after Stitch as he bolted into the bathroom. One minute she was trying to wake him up, and the next, she was in his arms, and he was kissing her like his life depended on it.

And, holy hell, it was good.

He was good.

No, he was fantastic. The best kiss ever!

And it was all a mistake?

She shook her head. Embarrassing? No, horrifying! He thought she was his wife!

Holy crap. That must’ve been one hell of a dream.

Lucky Soraya, getting to kiss him like that every night. Then she cringed.

Soraya was dead. She’d been killed in the attack on his village. It was tragic, and she shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Clearly, Stitch still craved his wife. So much that she’d come to him in a dream.

But the way he’d kissed her...

Whoa. Her head was still spinning.

Who would’ve thought that tough, steel-nerved guy could kiss like that? Then she remembered how he’d taken care of Fatima, how gentle he’d been when he treated her gunshot wound.

Yeah, Stitch had a tender side. He just didn’t show it much. Most of the time, he was all hard edges and badass attitude. The sailor, the tough guy.

But he was passionate, too. He’d totally claimed her, kissed her like he owned her as he tore open her blouse, exposing her breasts. His hands, rough and calloused, had sent shivers through her body, and her nipples still reacted just thinking about it.

Oh God.

How was she supposed to look him in the eye after this?

How was she supposed to deal with knowing how good it felt to be wanted by him, consumed by him?

She heard the shower running. He was washing off the taste and smell of her, trying to scrub away his mistake. A heavy ache settled in her chest. He belonged to someone else, but she was the one who wanted him, needed him.

Tonight had only confirmed what she’d been dreading for a while now. That she was hopelessly attracted to him.

The shower kept going, and she tried not to imagine his rock-hard body under the water, his muscles rippling, that chiseled back like a damn marble statue. She tried not to picture that perfect, firm ass just begging to be gripped, or those powerful thighs she couldn’t stop thinking about. Was he leaning forward, head down, his strong arms braced against the wall? Was he thinking about her?

She lay down, squeezing her eyes shut, tears burning their way down her cheeks.

Tears of shame. Of want. Of pure, aching desire.

That kiss had only left her craving more. It was all she could think about as she curled up and tried to fall asleep.

The shower was still running.

She exhaled hard, trying to force herself to relax.

After a while, the deep sleep she’d been in before he’d woken her with his mumbling started to creep back. Her eyelids grew heavy.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard the shower finally stop.

But before he came back to bed, she was asleep.