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“Know it all.” I bristled, then remembered that I had nowhere to go, already surrounded by the four wallpapered walls of this egregiously tiny box.

“I’m an expert at saving lives,” he offered easily. “So what makes you so afraid of the dark?”

“It’s just that…” I sucked in a measured breath. “…my parents worked a lot when I was little, and I always used to leave the light on when I put myself to bed because I was afraid when I was alone–but my dad always yelled when he came home in the middle of the night with the lights on, wasting all of that electricity.”

“Wait, they left you home alone?” His question was concerned.

“That’s the least of their issues, but yes, I raised myself. Mom worked to put my dad through law school, and then once he started his own firm, they both worked even more. It’s crazy that I became a lawyer at all, considering law is the thing that took them away from me, but here I am, twenty-six and slaying the partners away.”

“You sound like a rockstar,” he breathed, as his hands rested at my knees warmly.

“A very tired one, I guess.” I sighed, leaning my head against the wall.

“It sounds like workaholism runs in the family.”

“Well, there are worse -isms, right?” I made a lame attempt at a joke.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He tapped a random rhythm on my knee and I found my heartbeat adjusting to it, to his touch on my skin, to his words in my mind.

“I wanted to save people, my mom always said I was good at arguing and debating, so it seemed like a logical step.”

“But who saves you?”

“I…” I began, then paused, struck by his simple questions. “I do.”

“You said yourself, you’re too busy, sounds like you’re too much of a workaholic to even take time to slow down.”

I shook my head, thinking about the last time I’d had time for things like love and fun. “Sounds like high school, a time I’m not interested in re-visiting.” My voice lowered. “The worst times of my life were then. If you’d lost what I’ve lost…you probably wouldn’t pause to take the time either.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Kitten,” he whispered, the edge of his thumb grazing my jawline and sending a thrill of sensual excitement through my veins. “I’d take away the pain if I could.”

Silence hung between us, only the air charged with our breathing. My skin felt hot and sticky under his, like he’d left a trail of lust radiating through me, and suddenly the only thought I had was to peel off this stupid wool skirt and then plaster myself against all of his broad angles and hard edges.

I leaned up, prepared to at least do that first part, when his hand caught my wrist, caging it softly before he brought the underside to his nose and ran a delicate trail up my arm. A thrill the size of a tsunami crashed through me, his hands like fire singeing my skin and making me want to beg for more of him.

Just then, his radio crackled to life, and my body tensed, waiting for the sound of human life to interrupt our stifling little bubble. Anything between us was welcome, my head felt underwater when his hands were so close.

But then the radio died back to silence, a soft beep beep followed by nothing.

“The batteries died.” He murmured against my skin and I felt every single syllable straight between my thighs. His lips had a direct circuit, pebbling my nipples and sending my senses on overload.

“That means we’re really alone,” I husked.

“Totally alone,” he confirmed, touch traveling as his lips made his way up my arm, past the underside of my elbows and sending another surge of arousal to my nipples. “I have a confession: the darkness isn’t so bad with you here.”

“Me too,” I blurted, feeling less vulnerable in his arms than I had just minutes ago with the lights on. “I mean…I’m glad you’re with me.”

Chapter 3

Maverick

“You haven’t changed in nine years,” I said, a smile forming on my face at the realization that it was really her–in the flesh.

“Pardon?” Confusion laced the word.

“You’d think that nine years would have changed you, but other than the stuffy clothing you’re exactly the same, Kitten.” I pulled her to me, pleased that she didn’t pull away. Her body eased against mine after a few shocked seconds, and not even the dark was enough to shelter her expressive eyes from mine.

They glinted as her lips formed her next word. “Wait–Mav? As in, Maverick?”

“In the flesh, sweetheart.” I bent my head and inhaled the intoxicating scent of her. A familiar aroma, plucked like a memory from my mind. In my whole life, I’d never smelled anything as blissfully sweet as her. I was pleased that she still had the same smell. “Still use the same perfume, I see.”


Tags: Aria Cole, Mila Crawford Erotic