Chapter Eight

AJ

I honestly don't know how it happened.

One moment, there was a noise that had me snapping awake, and there was pain slamming through my skull as I collided with something I quickly realized was Atlas's jaw.

The next, his hand was guiding me to move over and straddle him. And his hand was lifting, slipping behind my neck, and his lips were on mine.

I'd been fantasizing about it almost since he appeared in the living room. I'd imagined it happening a hundred different ways.

Yet this still somehow caught me by surprise.

In the best way possible.

It wasn't soft or sweet.

His lips were firm and hungry, nearly bruising into mine as his fingers flexed into the back of my neck, pulling me closer until our chests were pressed together, dragging a little moan out of me, thanks to the sudden sensitivity in my breasts.

A rumbling sound moved through Atlas at my reaction, the vibration of it moving through my chest and into my core.

Despite myself, my hips dropped down onto his lap, to find him already hard and straining against his slacks, pressing right against where I was needing him most.

Atlas's tongue traced the seam of my lips, and they parted for him. He wasted no time, his tongue slipping inside to tease over mine.

A little whimper escaped me as my hips rocked instinctively, making his hardness press against me.

Atlas's hand slipped from my neck, sliding down my spine, and settling on my ass. It was a movement that seemed to encourage me on, so I let my hips do another grind against his hardness, this time making a little shudder move through me.

Atlas leaned forward, his lips pressing into my neck, creating more little fireworks.

"That's it," Atlas murmured, his voice thick. "Ride me," he demanded, making my belly flip-flop.

Then his lips were on mine again, and all my inhibitions flew out of my body as I did as he said, as I started to ride him, his lips muffling my moans as that aching sensation low in my core started to grow and spread.

It was a tight, coiled sensation that took over my sex, core, then chest, neck, my arms and legs.

My entire body felt tense, poised for something.

My breath felt caught in my chest for a moment.

And then the waves of pleasure crashed through me, making me cry out, my whole body shuddering hard with the intensity that had me leaning into Atlas, and burying my face in his neck.

I felt like I was in a daze for a while afterward, finding a strange disconnect from my mind and body.

I came back to myself slowly, bits at a time.

Touch first, feeling the way Atlas's hand was gently sifting through my hair.

Then the smell of him overwhelmed my senses.

After that, it was the sound of gunshots on the TV, mingled with the thump of my own heart, still frantic as a bird's wings.

I saw nothing because my eyes stayed closed, enjoying the floating sensation in my chest.

But then, well, my stupid brain got involved.

Oh, God.

Why had I done that?

In general. Because I'd sworn off men.

But also, in particular, with Atlas?

This man I had to continue living with for the foreseeable future.

I mean, yes, on the one hand, I wanted him. I'd wanted him almost since the moment I'd seen him.

But it was too complicated.

Too sticky.

I was staying in his home. I had nowhere else to go. And he was stuck there until he recovered as well.

If things went sideways, what would happen?

Would he kick me out?

Where would I go?

Sure, I had money saved. And since Kingston refused to accept rent from me when Atlas was home, I had a little extra leftover. But I'd sunk that into my brakes and tires.

If Samson and I were kicked out, I wouldn't have enough money to pay for the first, last, and security on a new place. And short-term housing usually didn't allow for dogs.

What was left?

Living in the car?

My heart sank, remembering when I was approved by Kingston for the house, how I promised Samson we would never, ever live out of the car again.

Those had been the hardest weeks of our life.

I'd been prepared for how uncomfortable it would be to try to sleep in the car, how difficult it would be to shower and find places to park.

I hadn't anticipated how incredibly vulnerable I felt. How unsafe I actually was with nothing but a car door or window between me and the ill intentions of bad men.

Sure, I'd found window covers, to prevent anyone from actually watching me sleep. But the covers themselves were evidence that someone was sleeping in the car. And if someone was paying attention to me before I put them up, of course they would know it was a single woman in there.

Sure, I had Samson with me.

But, well, he was never meant to be a personal protection dog. He lived up to his Lab/Golden-mix DNA. Meaning he was overall friendly, even to strangers.

The only time I'd ever heard him snarl was in his dreams.

If someone broke into the car, I unfortunately believed that he would be all tail waggly to the man who would attempt—or succeed—to hurt me.

Most nights, I slept very little because every slam of a door or crunch of something snapping on the ground outside of the car had my heart flying into my throat, had me sure I was about to be raped, murdered, and left in a ditch somewhere.

I was less worried, as a whole, for Samson. If anything, he was kind of living the high life, since being in your car all the time was miserable, so we spent most of it outside of the car. Walking nature paths, exploring new towns, playing in lakes or rivers.

He was usually over the moon all day, then absolutely exhausted at night.

The problem was, because of Samson, working was hard. And not having a steady job meant that I couldn't get us out of the car.

It was only thanks to the flier on a community board at a coffee shop in Navesink Bank that I finally saw an opportunity for a different life.

A full-time position at a doggy daycare.

I'd gone to the interview and asked if I could enroll my own dog in the daycare, so he could come with me. Would it cut into my pay? Sure. But it was a sacrifice I was willing to make for a chance to make a big change for us.

Luckily, the daycare's owner explained that, no, I couldn't enroll Samson. That friendly and well-behaved dogs of the employees were allowed to hang out at the daycare, free of charge.

It was like I'd won the lottery.

We were still living out of our car for several weeks after I started work there. Before, one fateful day, I saw the listing for the house rental.

I really don't think I even realized how trying the whole ordeal had been until I'd been handed the keys, then closed a door complete with deadlocks, and knew I was finally safe.

I think I cried in relief for six hours straight that first day. And I swore—swore—to myself that we would never be in that position again.

And here I was, screwing with that stability I'd begun to take for granted.

I needed a reality check.

Even as that thought formed, though, another one rushed to replace it, reminding me that I did have a reality check.

Right before we curled up on the couch.

The phone call.

My stomach twisted hard enough to make me regret all those sweets I'd shoveled in my face while we watched the movies.

I jerked away from Atlas, carelessly climbing off of him, not even paying any mind to the potential to hurt him in the process.

"Hey," he called, voice soft.

I saw his hand reach out toward me before I turned and ran down the hall, slamming my bedroom door, then the bathroom one behind me as I dropped to the floor by the toilet just in time.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," I whimpered to myself as I reached blindly for the box of tissues, blowing my nose hard before peeling myself off the floor to swish some mouthwash, then brush my teeth.

Tears, expected—given the situation—sprang up then poured down my cheeks as I rinsed, then stared at my reflection.

Too many thoughts were racing at once, none of them able to really take root.

The horrible distant past mingled with the lovely recent one, then got tangled up with the possible terrible future, making my stomach roil again.

Sucking in a deep breath, I reached for a washcloth, running it under the cold water, then pressing it to the back of my neck, despite the chills that were racking my body from the vomiting.

The shock of it seemed to slow the racing thoughts, allowing me to focus on one at a time.

One, the phone call.

I could block the number.

But I needed to make sure there was no way that my number would allow someone to trace me. I wasn't on a plan. I added minutes because it was the most affordable option when I'd… left my old life.

I hoped it was untraceable, because people might ask questions if I changed my number.

Next, how had the number been uncovered?

My mind retraced my steps since I'd left Iowa.

There were any number of places I'd given my number out to. Applications for jobs, for apartments, for short-term rentals.

But how could any of that be traced?

I didn't know.

But, undeniably, it could be done.

It didn't mean, I told myself, that I personally could be traced, that I'd been found.

That was just my paranoia at work.

Yes, my paranoia may have kept me safe thus far, but that didn't mean I needed to keep running.

No one knew I was here.

Save for my coworkers, the owners of the pets that came through, and, now, the Rivers and Mallick families.

Okay.

Then for the next problem.

Namely, the man I'd left in the other room.

The one who I'd just dry-humped like a teenager.

The one that had just given me an orgasm.

I was no starry-eyed virgin. But I'd also never had a real "O" with a man before. I'd managed to take care of myself, but it was something new to have it with someone else. Even if it was just… friction.

It felt more intimate somehow than times I'd actually had—orgasm-free—sex with someone.

Why did this have to happen for the first time with Atlas Rivers?

A man who I needed not to get involved with.

For one thing, because me having a roof over my head was in his hands. And if he thought things with us had gotten weird, he might toss me out on my butt.

For another, I probably already liked him a little too much. Especially for a man who was destined to leave.

He'd been very clear about never staying in one place long.

So if I let things get even more physical, and my feelings for him grew, it would be crushing when he left, knowing he was likely out there in the world, meeting new women at every ‘port.' While I pined for him in his house.

I needed to get it together.

Put some distance between us.

It was the only way this could continue to go on.

Decision made, I made my way back into my room, hearing Atlas rolling down the hall into his room. He was probably going to get changed, which gave me a couple of minutes to go and put Samson out before rushing back into my room to avoid him and the awkward conversation he would feel compelled to have, given the circumstances.

As soon as his door closed, I rushed out on tiptoes, whisper calling Samson, setting him outside, then quickly putting the leftover sweets away, grabbing Atlas a few bottles of water to leave on the coffee table, bringing Samson into my room with me, and finally let out the breath I swear I'd been holding, worried he might come out at any point.

With that, I took my pajamas into the bathroom, took a long shower, and went to bed early.

Though I tossed and turned as I made plans for the next day.

Namely, how I would get up early. Make him breakfast that he could heat up for himself. Then grab Samson, and head out before Atlas even woke up.

Then I could just run errands after work, really drag things out. If I had to, I could claim a headache as soon as I got home, and take to bed.

I was probably going to need it, since I was clearly not going to get any sleep with all these thoughts running through my mind.

One thing was for sure, though.

I was going to have to get really good at hiding my feelings over the next twenty-four hours.