Chapter 20

I’m so fucking aroused,the inside of my sweats are wet. I keep my dick tucked into the waistband of my sweatpants, then grab my wine glass and Hannah’s and move through to the kitchen.

She’s a quivering mess on the sofa, and I haven’t even touched her. It’s nothing compared to how I’ve felt today.

I pour wine into our glasses and bring them back to the living room, setting hers on the coffee table. She stares up at me, her cheeks pink, her lips parted, and I have to restrain myself from picturing her mouth encircling the tip of my dick.

“Wine,” I say, tapping my finger beside the glass on the table.

I return to my seat, then take a sip from my glass. It’s a struggle to appear unaffected by her while my cock is tugging against my pants, and my mind is firmly stuck in the fucking gutter.

“You were going to tell me about what you’ve always wanted to do,” I say.

She lets out a shaky breath, reaches up and pushes a few strands back from her forehead. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not much of a kidder.”

“You don’t say.” She reaches for her wine, almost knocks over the glass, but catches it. She brings it to her lips and drinks, and I watch her throat working, the way her eyes are glazed with desire. Finally, she puts the glass back down and takes a breath. “I’ve always wanted to do something crazy.”

I tilt my head and watch her.

She’s trying so hard to bring her thoughts under control. I like it. I like the effect I have on her, I like that she’s been pining for me, just the same as I’ve been denying myself what I want for fucking years. I like all of it. Even that it’s wrong, and I’m going to regret talking to her like this.

“What crazy thing do you want to do, Hannah?”

She drinks more of her wine then puts down her glass with a clink. “I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain,” she says. “Just because. I’ve never done that before.”

“You have the opportunity to do that right now,” I say.

“Are you serious?”

“Why not? I’m here to protect you in case your stalker appears.” The frustrating lack of cell service has stopped me from confirming that it’s him with Cash. “And you’ve always wanted to do it.”

“But it’s so out there. It’s so crazy.”

“It’s not that crazy. It’s not like you’re asking to go skydiving during a tornado.”

“Are you calling me boring?” she asks. “Just because I’m a librarian, doesn’t make me boring.”

“I’m not saying that, Princess.”

“Can you not call me that?”

“Why?”

She opens her mouth and shuts it.

I get up again and walk over, hold out my hand. She stares at it.

“Come.”

She sucks in a breath.

“Hannah,” I say, “I meant come with me.”

“Right, of course. Yeah. That’s definitely…” She takes my hand, and I walk her out of the living room and down the hall toward the front door. She’s barefoot, but I don’t want to get spooked and run before she’s done what she’s always wanted to do.

Being scared is a mindset.

The first step to moving on from it, to becoming fearless, is facing your fears head-on.

I open the front door, and she hesitates on the threshold.

“What if we get hit by lightning?” Hannah blushes. “That was dumb, sorry.”

I scoop her off her feet, and she shrieks a giggle. I run us both into the rain, sloshing across the waterlogged ground in front of my cabin. It’s flooded, the water reaching the bottom of Hannah’s car door. My truck is a little higher and safer from the rain.

Hannah laughs and tilts her head back so that the rain spatters down on her face.

She’s beautiful and free, even in the cage of my arms.

“Put your legs around my waist,” I say.

Hannah’s eyes widen, but I shift her so that her arms are around my neck, and her legs wrapped around my middle. She clings to me, and the rain intensifies, pouring down from above, soaking us both through, but her feet are protected from the water, and she’s got me.

And so we dance.

I sway her on the spot, and she presses her forehead against mine, our body heat mingling.

“Like this?” I ask. “Is this what you pictured?”

She shakes her head. “It’s better.” She shouts it over the rain, her lips inches from mine, droplets of water running down her nose, over the contours of her mouth.

The way I want to kiss her is unreal. It’s almost overwhelming. She shivers against me, then tips her head back and lets out a whoop of joy, rising high against my body.

I carry her back inside and set her down in the hallway. We’re both dripping wet as I run through the house, grab her a towel and guide her through to the living room. I stand her in front of the fire, and then give her the glass of wine before jogging back to the front door and making sure I locked it on the way in.

“You need to go shower and get warm,” I say.

“But you’re soaked through as well,” she says.

“I’m fine. You shower first. Come on.”

The song on the radio changes, and Hannah freezes halfway across the living room. “Oh my?—”

“What?” I ask.

It’s the first smooth notes of “Put Your Head on My Shoulder”by Paul Anka.

“I love this song,” she says, with a pretty smile.

I take the wine glass from her hand and set it down.

“Savage?”

“Come here.”

I take her in my arms, placing one around her waist and bringing her close to my body, and then I sway her on the spot beside the fire. She rests her head against my chest, her hand in mine as we dance to the song. Slowly, quietly, beside the fire, where no one will ever see us. Where no one will ever find out.

The song is over too quickly, and afterward, I lead Hannah down the hall to the bathroom. She hesitates before she steps inside.

“Thank you,” she says. “For everything.”

Anything for you, Princess.

I grunt instead of saying it, then leave her to shower.