But he was dangerous and even just sleeping with this man was so wrong. He would be one of those guys that bragged about being totally awesome and unshootable, and then he would come home with a bullet to the chest. I wasn’t one of those women that would be a good military wife. I would cry every time my husband was deployed. I would beg him to call me every night, even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to. I wouldn’t band together with all the other military wives and talk about how we stood by our husbands no matter what because they were sacrificing for the country. No, I would be the wife bitching because my husband was never home and I felt abandoned. This was why I stayed away from these military types. And retired or not, Craig was still very much a military type. He would break my heart in an instant if I allowed him in.
I wrapped the sheet and blanket tight to my body and tried to ignore the weight of his body as it sank into the bed. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried not to smell his sexy scent or imagine what it would feel like to have him just a little closer to me. Then I felt his fingers gliding up my arm and brush my hair out of my face. My eyes flew open and I shot a glare at him.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” he whispered.
My heart pounded in my chest and my vagina was pulsing out of control. The man was right, I did want this. I picked up his hand and flung it off me. There was no way I was giving in. I heard a low chuckle as he moved back to his side of the bed. I growled low in my throat and pretended like I was throwing daggers at him. It made me feel lighter inside to know that I was resisting the sexy man.
It’s okay. Just list all the things you hate about him. His sexy muscles, the way he looks at me like I’m everything to him, the way his arms feel around me, the way his cock stretches me and makes me crave him like a grilled cheese sandwich.
Ugh! This is so unfair. I’m supposed to hate him. He’s been stalking me. He kidnapped me! I should be trying to call the police right now, not running away with him, all because he says an assassin’s after me. Which doesn’t even make sense! Who would possibly send an assassin after me? I teach kindergarten for Christ’s sake!
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let anyone get you,” he whispered to me, his breath fanning across my face.
“What?” I snapped. “What are you talking about?”
“You were grumbling about why an assassin would be after you.”
I screamed under my breath and stared him down. “Is there anything that you’re not good at?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Well, apparently, you’re really good at killing people in coffee shops. You have big, awesome muscles that make me feel like a twig. You walk super fast, which just isn’t fair to those of us that have short legs. And you have super hearing! Is there anything you can’t do?”
He looked at me quizzically and then sighed. “Well, I always wanted to be able to speak in an English accent.” He straightened up and mimicked an English person perfectly. “Hello. This bed is bloody brilliant.” His face lit up as he looked at me. “Hey, look at that! I spoke in an English accent!”
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