“For the record,” I say, hardly able to speak through the lust that pumps through my veins, “I was more myself with you during those three days than I’ve ever been with anyone in my life. It’d be easier if I could be fake with you, but you bring out everything in me, little Ann. All of it.”
The good and the bad. The hot and the cold. The lust and the love.
She stares at me for a long time before blinking and stepping back, bumping the deck rail. She’s so filled with goodness, this girl the angels prophesied about so long ago. This girl who has no clue of the things I’ve done.
And because I can’t help but compare her innocence with my dodgy past, because I don’t deserve anything good, because it’s in Anna’s nature to care for the lost and aching, I begin to doubt the validity of what I feel between us. I doubt everything. And I push. Because, like her, I need proof. I need to hear it.
“However it is that you think you still feel about me,” I say, “I can assure you it’s nothing more than a classic case of someone who wants the one thing she can’t have. If you had me and got it out of your system, you’d realize the good boy’s the one you really want.”
She eyes me hard. “Those are your insecurities, Kaidan, not facts, and I wish you would stop taking them out on me.” She tries to step away, but I block her. I don’t want her to leave.
“Excuse me,” she says. “I need to change my clothes.”
Her clothes . . . yes. My eyes drop. I can’t fathom why she needs to change. Her clothes are right nice the way they are—wet enough to cling to every curve of her thighs, hips, waist, and chest. I memorize this image.
For a moment I think she’s going to hit me, but her hands go to the bottom of her shirt instead. I nearly topple backward when she begins to wriggle from side to side, pulling the damn thing up and over her head, then dropping it at my feet. I stare at the white halter top and the small, perfect curves it reveals. Bloody hell . . . she’s got a belly button ring. I can’t . . . Her waist . . . her collarbones . . . her eyes.
That sultry gaze—she’s enjoying this in a one hundred percent vixen sort of way. The killer look in her eyes makes the cauldron inside me boil. Whatever scrap of sanity I had is slapped away as she undoes her shorts and pushes them down to reveal her thighs, which I have never seen until this moment.
I am salivating.
There’s a challenge in her eyes, making her the bravest girl I’ve ever met, because I will bloody well lay her down right here on Blake’s deck and pick up where I left off in that hotel room. I will have that bikini off faster than she can gasp.
I am just about to charge forward when she turns and bends over, slowly picking up her clothes. My body seizes. She saunters away with half her damned arse hanging out of the sides of her swimsuit, teasing me as her hips sway back and forth, back and forth, back and . . . oh, God, this hurts.
I groan in agony, but she takes no pity. Anna is good at not looking back. As she and her edible backside disappear into the bungalow, I cram my fingers into my hair and crouch, feeling as if a horse has kicked me in the middle.
A chuckle comes from the back doors and Blake is standing there, arms crossed over his chest. “That was brutal, brah. You so deserved it.”
With my head hanging, I manage to say, “Stay away or I’ll kill you.”
“You couldn’t pay me to come near you right now.”
I sigh and try to breathe. Blake laughs a bit more at my expense before leaving me alone in my misery.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Learning the Hard Way
“Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I, I can’t help but ask myself how much I let the fear take the wheel and steer.”
—“Drive” by Incubus
The problem about being with Anna is she makes me forget everything else. She looks at me like I’m her hero, and I forget who I really am. She smiles at the world around her, and I forget it’s an ugly place. She exudes comfort, and I forget we’re in constant danger. I forget all the reasons I’ve stayed away from her, all the reasons it’s better for her not to care about me.
I’m sprinting up the same stretch of beach Anna and I walked down less than an hour ago. I’m cursing myself, and swearing that if anything’s happened to Anna, I will find those guys from the carnival and take care of them.
I am furious with myself on so many levels. I let it slip during our walk that Anna’s father demanded I stay away from her. I guilted Anna into showing me her gorgeous aura of love, and then freaked out and was an asshole to her all over again. I talked her into going on the Ferris wheel and got so completely carried away trying to kiss her that I never saw the whisperer coming. Then I got us cornered by a fucking gang, where she tried to use her powers of influence and ended up with a gun pointed in her face.
Score two for the angels who saved her arse once again while I stood by helplessly. I grit my teeth as I run.
She’s with Blake now, who showed up at the carnival on his motorcycle to whisk her away. Though I’m certain she’s safe, the band of fear around my torso doesn’t loosen. The gang is long gone, down the strip in the opposite direction, but I don’t stop running. I need to deal with Anna.
I still cannot believe a whisperer caught us nearly kissing. I’m sick to my stomach. I want to hurl onto the beach, but there’s no time for that. I need to remind Anna of all the things she makes me forget, the most important thing being that it’s my job to keep us aware. It’s my responsibility to keep an eye and ear out, since I know she won’t. I failed us today, and she made it even worse by trying to take on those gang members single-handedly.