Sinful Protector

by Mia Ford

  “You’ve said enough!” he shouts. “Always going on and on about what I did wrong… You were no saint either!”

  “I know that,” I try, never one to keep my mouth shut.

  His face twists into something ugly. For a moment, I genuinely think he’s going to hit me. I’ve never been scared of Jesse before. I’ve never worried about what he will do to me. But, at that exact moment, I am. I look up at him, at the insanity in his eyes, and I wonder if I ever knew him.

  I rip myself away from him, my heart pounding in my chest, using the element of surprise to break his grip. I back away, suddenly knowing that I can’t outrun him, and he advances on me, a dark look on his face that makes my breath catch.

  It’s at that moment that footsteps cut into the silence. The sound is so out of place that both Jesse and I hesitate, confused. I look up to see a man ambling down the other side of the road, yawning. He’s tall and rugged, clad in a black leather jacket, rubbing the stubble on his face as he walks.

  He looks up. Jesse and I are both staring at him, startled by his intrusion. I wonder what this looks like, with me pressed against the fence, Jesse so obviously holding me in place. Something flickers across the man’s face and he begins to turn away.

  Then I take a step back, wincing at the suddenness of the streetlight above me, and his eyes meet mine.

  Chapter Two

  Kyle

  It’s cold, and I’m tired, and I’m a little irritated about having to leave the Anchor Bar so damn early. It’s unfortunate, but I don’t want to be late for work tomorrow; the old man at Brooks Automotive has given me a real shot, and I don’t want to blow it.

  So I leave my clubmates behind at the bar, all of them celebrating our victory; despite all the odds, we’ve managed to save the house we’ve been using since our club started from the grimy hands of the council, and now we have the money, too, to clean it up.

  With a yawn, I tug my jacket a little more firmly around myself to ward off the chilly air and amble down the road. The night is still young and I don’t live very far from here, but I find myself missing my bike; the warmth of the exhaust would warm me up quite quickly, and I would already be in bed by now.

  Up ahead, I see the bright lights of some sort of convenience store. I consider stopping and getting something to eat on the way home; it’s been some time since dinner, and I’m feeling a little hungry. Then I remember the unopened bags of chips that are littering my apartment and I snort; I have plenty of food at home if I want it.

  I can hear someone shouting up ahead, but I’m honestly too tired to deal with this shit tonight. Let them sort out their problems, I decide.

  But my head turns anyway, drawn to the scene, and I see a man and a woman across the road. The woman is taking careful steps backward, but I can’t quite see her expression in the darkness. The man is advancing on her slowly, his shoulders locked tight, almost like a predator stalking their prey.

  I’m not a monster. I don’t like to see people prey on others; it’s one of the reasons me and that dick Tom Green don’t get along very well. Not that he gets along with anyone, to be honest. If I see something like this, nine times out of ten I’ll intervene.

  Tonight, I’m tired. I want to go to bed. I don’t want to deal with other people’s crap. I might regret my decision to walk away in the morning but, right now, I don’t give a damn.

  I might have turned away then. But movement catches my eye, instead. The woman takes another step back, and she’s suddenly underneath the streetlight.

  My first thought is that she’s gorgeous. She’s tall and willowy, her face framed by wisps of long brown hair that is escaping the complicated knot that has been twisted up at the nape of her neck. She’s carrying a shoulder bag, which she’s gripping tightly as she backs away.

  Then her eyes rise to meet mine. They’re so deeply blue that my breath catches. But, more than the beauty of her eyes, it’s the surprise and fear in them that catches me.

  My body moves before I can consciously consider what to do next.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  The man jolts; he, too, has been staring at me, as surprised by my appearance as the woman, as though neither of them had expected someone to pass by on a public street. I glance at the convenience store nearby; there’s a young girl at the counter, but she isn’t paying any attention to what’s happening as she flicks through a magazine and bobs her head to some unheard music.

  Looks like this is on me.

  I stalk forward. The man is glaring at me, but his bravado begins to fade as I get closer and he realizes how tall I am and how much broader my shoulders are than his.

  Then his expression twists. I can smell the alcohol from here; he’s too far gone to listen to any logic. He’s raring for a fight, and he isn’t going to stop until he gets one, no matter who he has to piss off to do it.

  Great. Not only do I have to follow through now that I’ve stuck my nose into their business, but I have to deal with a guy who’s too drunk to realize just how outclassed he is.

  “What are you looking at, asshole?” the man snarls, his words slurring slightly.

  I could answer. I could insult him and wait for him to self-destruct. He’s so drunk that he’s more likely to punch himself than me. Normally this would be amusing to watch.

  But this isn’t just some man in the bar threatening everyone around him into a fight he has no hope of winning. This is a man who was threatening a young woman on the side of the road, in the middle of the night, clear intent in every line of his body. Now that I’m here and I’m a little more awake, I feel a little disgusted that I ever considered turning away.

  Who knows what would have happened next, with no one around to stop it.

  So I don’t reply. Instead, I pull back my fist and punch him in the face.

  The man drops instantly. I don’t know if it’s because he’s shocked or because I just knocked him out, but I don’t care. I grab the wrist of the woman, who is staring at her attacker, stunned by how quick that was, and pull, almost yanking her off her feet before she realizes that I want her to follow me.

  For a moment she resists, and I can’t say I blame her; I’m a stranger, and going anywhere with a stranger at this time of night is foolhardy. But then she glances at the man on the ground and follows me instead, apparently deciding to take her chances with me rather than the person who has already proved that he can and will attack her.

  I set a harsh pace and she stumbles a few times to try and keep up. Finally, a block away from the convenience store, we duck into an alley and I stop. Only then do I let go of her wrist.

  “There,” I say gruffly, glancing at her. She’s rubbing her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Huh?” she asks, startled. She’s blinking too much, as though she can’t comprehend what’s happening to her. “I… Yes, I’m fine.”

  “You should probably head home,” I tell her.

  I should just leave her here. But we’re not that far away from the store and I don’t know if that man saw where we went. So, instead, I hover awkwardly in the alley, not sure what to do next.

  “Yeah,” she agrees, rubbing the back of her neck.

  She seems rattled. I don’t blame her.

  “Did he hurt you?” I ask, noticing that she’s still rubbing her shoulder.

  “What… Oh, no, not really,” she says, shaking her head. “He just…grabbed me a bit.” She frowns. “He’s never done that before.”

  I frown. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “No!” she exclaims before laughing. It’s high and unsure, and the sound fades away as she realizes that I’m not laughing with her. “No, he isn’t. I mean, he was, but we broke up a few weeks ago.”

  I snort. “I can see why.”

  She stares at me. Then a laugh escapes her again. This one, however, is a nice sound and far more genuine.

  “Yeah,” she agrees, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Sorry, I’m a bit all over t
he place; I haven’t seen Jesse since we broke up and I wasn’t expecting him to flip out on me like that.”

  “I’m guessing he didn’t take the break-up well,” I say, deadpan.

  “That’s an understatement,” she snorts. “He’s probably got it into his head, now, that it’s all my fault.”

  I frown. “Will he come after you again?”

  “Jesse?” She seems startled by the idea. “No way. This was just an accident. He’s an idiot, a drunkard and a huge coward; when he wakes up tomorrow, he’ll rant and rave to his friends, and then he’ll pretend I never existed.”

  That doesn’t seem accurate, based on what I just witnessed. The man I intercepted did not look like the sort of person to just let this go.

  But I shrug. This woman knows her ex-boyfriend better than I do. Maybe I was just reading too much into it, and this had just been a freak occurrence because he was far too drunk to think rationally.

  “Either way, thank you for your help,” she says after a moment. “He was definitely out of control tonight.” She laughs suddenly. “And I’m not going to say that I didn’t appreciate seeing you deck him, either.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, shaking my head with a small smile. “I’m Kyle Jacobs, by the way.”

  “Allison Miller,” she says, grinning at me.

  She sticks her hand out toward me and, bemused, I shake it. Her hand slips into mine, warm and soft, and I’m suddenly aware of her long, smooth legs, which are being accentuated by her black skirt and the sharp heels that she’s wearing. I breathe in and catch a whiff of a floral perfume that makes me feel a little dizzy.

  I clear my throat.

  “You on your way home from work?” I ask, nodding at her bag.

  “College,” she corrects. “I’m studying law.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I’m not normally out so late, but my classmates and I were celebrating getting through some hard tests.”

  Law? She’s a smart one, then. She’s more down to earth than many college-goers that I’ve met in the past, who have looked down on me for my bike, my jacket and my profession, as though I’m not good enough to fit into polite society.

  “Sounds interesting,” I say. “I’m a mechanic.”

  She blinks and then her eyes light up.

  “We’ve been looking for a mechanic!” she says enthusiastically, and I’m taken aback. “My friend’s car hasn’t been starting, but her old mechanic moved and we have had a bad experience with another mechanic… You any good?”

  I grin. “I’m pretty good. Bring it around to Brooks Automotive, we’ll have a look at it.”

  “I’ve heard some pretty good things about that place,” she muses. “Great, there’s another favor I owe you for, now,” she adds, smiling.

  I know she’s joking. So, I decide to joke back. But I’m still a little drunk, and the night has been long and my brain isn’t sending the right signals to tell me what is and isn’t a good idea right now.

  I trail my eyes over her body, making her smile falter, and lean in closer.

  “Well, maybe we can work out some payment, then,” I say huskily, giving her another look to make it clear what I mean.

  Then my brain catches up. What am I thinking? Allison was just assaulted by her ex-boyfriend. Not only that, but I’m a complete stranger and I’m hitting on her in the middle of the night, while we’re standing in a seedy alleyway.

  Smooth fucking move, idiot.

  I start to lean back, an apology on my lips.

  Then she plants her hands on my chest and pushes. Caught by surprise, I stumble backward and hit the wall, blinking at this unexpected turn of events. Allison presses her body up against mine, her breath teasing my lips.

  “I think that could be arranged,” she purrs.

  And then her lips meet mine.

  Chapter Three

  Allison

  I’m completely over tonight. I just wanted to get home and sleep, but then Jesse came out of nowhere and acted so out of character that, for a moment, I wondered if I was facing a different person.

  I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m still a little drunk and dreading tomorrow’s hangover. Now, I’m standing in an alley with a sympathetic stranger who is saying all the right things, who just punched Jesse for me, and he’s leering at me in a way that reminds me that I haven’t been out with anyone since I left Jesse.

  So, I snap.

  If I was thinking rationally, I might have slapped him. As soon as the words left his mind, I could see that he realized how stupid they were. I wonder if he meant it as a joke, and didn’t notice how bad it sounded until he had said it. Either way, the logical thing to do, right now, is to walk back home and forget this night ever happened.

  Instead, I find myself pushing Kyle against the alley wall and kissing him fiercely.

  He freezes for a moment, stunned, and I press myself against his body. I thought before that he was good looking but, close as I am, I can feel the hardened muscles beneath his clothes. He’s so tall that I have to stand on my toes to reach him, and this is a delight because normally I’m the tallest one around, and that makes it really damn hard, sometimes, to find a partner who’s taller than me. Jesse was taller than me, but only by a little, so I was never able to wear heels while being with him.

  Kyle, on the other hand, is still taller than me, even with my stilettos.

  I push further into the kiss and my tongue tangles with his. Then, needing to take a breath, I pull back and look up at him through lidded eyes.

  He’s staring at me. He looks a little unsure, but there’s clear interest in his eyes.

  “How about it?” I ask, running a hand over his chest. “This last hour has been terrible. Want to help me forget about it?”

  Forgetting sounds great right now. I want to forget about Jesse and obliterate the feel of his hands on my body, and there’s a gorgeous stranger in front of me, offering me the way to do that. I don’t know him. I’m attracted to his physical appearance and the fact that he saved me. I’m simply using him to get some relief.

  But that’s okay, right now. He doesn’t know me, either. He’s equally attracted to me. This would be to our mutual benefit.

  Kyle, apparently, is a nicer guy than I want him to be, however, because he coughs and leans back with some difficulty.

  “Look, it might not be for the best,” he tries. “You just went through something really fucking terrible. I get that you want to forget about it, but screwing a stranger isn’t going to help.”

  I stare at him incredulously. I’m throwing myself at him, and I’m pressed against him so I can feel his growing interest. Either I’ve chosen the wrong guy to try this with…or I’ve just stumbled on a roughly hewn gem.

  My incredulity fades. The fact that he would try and push me away for my sake, when I know how much I’ve already affected him, is even more attractive. I slip my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in the hair at his neck.

  “Maybe not,” I purr. “But you never know unless you try, right? One night, that’s all I’m asking.” I can feel his hands… “I want your hands on me, instead.”

  He groans at my words, his entire body shuddering. His hips buck beneath me.

  “No strings attached,” I say into his ear, my breath brushing against the lobe. “One night. Fuck me.”

  His hands are on my hips and he’s tugging me closer.

  “Shit,” he whispers.

  This his lips are on mine and I grin triumphantly. I’m not some stupid damsel who throws herself at her savior because she decides she needs to fall in love with him. I know what I want. I want this man in front of me now, and I want to take and give until the world around us falls apart and I don’t know which way to go until I wake up in the morning and have to face it all again.

  His kiss is fierce and enthusiastic, and his hands grip my hips unforgivingly, his thumbs pressing against the bone as he drags me in as close as I can get. My fingers tug the zipper on his back down, and it flies open, allowi
ng me to feel the tight t-shirt underneath. I can feel each muscle in his stomach through the thin material, and I can breathe in his musky scent, the smell giving me a heady feeling that makes me desperate for more.

  “Holy shit,” I murmur against his lips, slipping my hands under his shirt and feeling his smooth, toned muscles. “How often do you work out?”

  I feel him grin.

  “I do a lot of lifting,” he says.

  It’s all the warning I get before his hands slip under my backside and he lifts me clean off the ground. My legs automatically wind around his waist, and then he’s spinning us around, changing our positions, so that my back meets the wall. I can feel the grainy bricks digging into my spine and I lock my ankles at the small of his back, dragging him closer. His hands are in my hair, tugging it out of the bun I had so carefully twisted it into that morning, the elastic pulling harshly at the roots as it comes loose.

  My hands aren’t calm either. I push his jacket off his shoulders, smelling the leather and feeling the material sliding over my hands. Impatiently, he shrugs out of it and lets it fall to the floor, and I latch onto his neck with my lips and teeth, nipping and licking until I find a pulse point that thunders against my skin. I grin, knowing he feels the curve of my lips, and bite on it.

  “Shit!” he gasps, back arching against me, pressing me further into the wall.

  I suck on the pulse, now fluttering wildly, soothing the bite with my tongue. My hands are under his shirt again; I just can’t get enough of the feel of his muscles as they heave under my hands, sliding over his abs and his hips.

  Kyle’s hands leave my hair and slide down my body. His fingers dance teasingly over my clothed skin, outlining the curve of my breast before dipping down to my hips. Then they go further, sliding down my legs to just above my knee.

  His hand closes over my right leg, and he hitches it further up his waist, and we both groan as I slide down a little. His penis, hard and throbbing in his jeans, is sitting against my thigh now, and Kyle’s hips buck upwards.