Obsessed (The Protectors #13) - Sloane Kennedy Page 0,2
make his escape without having to talk to me. I kind of wanted him to do that because it was easier to hunt prey when it ran rather than stand its ground.
When the guy was within a handful of feet of me, I saw that little stiffening thing happen where he seemed to force himself to stand straighter. Surprisingly, I wasn't at all disappointed that he hadn't decided to flee.
It wasn't until the man cast a glance at the police officer that I remembered we weren't alone. I took care of that with one look in Officer Hard-on's direction. The idiot was just standing there tapping his pen on his pad, but when he saw me watching him, he cleared his throat and then reached for his radio again. He mumbled something about returning in a moment to finish up with the questions and then he was practically off and running.
I found myself holding my breath as I waited for the man across from me to say something, or to reach out and shake my hand. I hadn't really noticed him after I'd killed the kid's attacker, so I didn't really know what he sounded like. And I already knew that I really wanted to know what he felt like. The mustache, his skin, his what looked to be a fit body wrapped around mine…
"Thank you," the man said as he wrapped one hand around the other as if to keep from reaching out to me. I hid my disappointment and tried to silence that little voice in my head that said maybe he wasn't interested in shaking the hand of an uneducated, heavily tattooed thug. The logical side of my brain tried to remind me that beyond my darker skin tone and tattoos, he had no way of knowing anything about my education or lack thereof or that I was of Colombian descent, but I'd met enough bigots to know it didn't take much more than your skin color for them to make a decision about you.
My opinion of the man started to go downhill quickly, especially when he didn't show any hint of willingness to shake my hand. My desire, however, was on an opposite trajectory. Maybe the fact that the idea of my touch repulsed him served to feed into my need to control him, to own him. But that argument was short-lived when he walked away.
Because he didn't just walk away. No, he took a few steps and then he stopped and looked at me.
Really looked at me.
If I wasn't as good at reading people as I was, I would've missed it. The ticked-up breathing, the slight flush of color that suffused his cheeks, the parting of his lips… all those things had me blatantly looking down at his groin. And once I took in that pretty sight, I didn't have to be a mind reader to get that particular message.
So, he definitely wasn't disgusted by me. And he most definitely wasn't straight. Those were both points in my favor, and as I lifted my eyes to meet his, I sent him a silent message that was anything but subtle.
From the way he quickly turned away and left the house, I was more than certain of two things. One, that he’d gotten the message and two, that I'd be feeling that mustache—and the rest of him—on me soon enough.
Chapter 2
Sam
I was already regretting my decision to return to the house even though I had only been in the thing for two minutes. Two minutes of just staring at the carnage that had once been my living room.
It was still difficult for me to make sense of the events that had taken place there three nights ago. It had all started off simply enough. I'd been enjoying the process of handing out candy to children in all manner of costumes while my oldest son, Elliot, had taken my younger son, Ryan, trick-or-treating. Elliot’s new boyfriend, Cruz, had been with him. That night had been my first time meeting the young man who'd already begun to steal my son’s heart. I'd known that just by seeing how Elliot looked at Cruz.
But things had pretty much gone to hell as soon as Elliot and Cruz had returned with Ryan. I'd heard the pair arguing outside, but I’d just assumed it was a lover’s spat, though I hadn't been sure if my son and his new guy had even made it to the lovers stage. I’d gone outside prepared to