Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,46

deep rumble of Fionn’s voice tightened Lyse’s lower belly. That voice was sin and demand, the voice she’d dreamed about for years, fantasized about. Masturbated to.

Yes, she was totally avoiding him, and she wasn’t sure why. Like a little girl that had been given the toy she’d begged for at Christmastime, only to set it aside and refuse to play with it.

The memory of Fionn’s palm flat against her belly button made her core heat. Her nipples tingle. No, she wouldn’t be refusing to play, but…

“Lyse.”

Damn.

“Of course I’m not avoiding you.” But her hands stayed on the laptop, her eyes glued to the screen. Emotion churned in her chest.

Afraid. That’s what was wrong. She was afraid—that he didn’t really want her, that she wouldn’t be enough for him. All that and more.

His footsteps were always silent, but he couldn’t hide the heat of his body as he came to stand behind her chair. “Good, ’cause I’ll be sharing the night shift with you.”

The two of them, closed up in this tiny room. Alone. At night.

A shiver shot through her.

Fionn settled one hand on the desk next to her, the other digging beneath her hair to cup her nape. She wasn’t sure which made her weakest, the sight of his bunched bicep flexing next to her—good God, total arm candy—or the sense that he controlled her very being with a single touch to one of the most sensitive parts of her body. Either way, her bones turned to mush and she found herself pressing back into the heat of his palm on her neck. He didn’t kiss her; he didn’t have to. That one touch was almost as intimate as if he’d delved between her legs.

Or she imagined it was. The fact that she didn’t know for sure, had never really experienced a touch like that, made her heartbeat pound against her breastbone. Would Fionn be the first man to take over her body that way? Would he be disappointed?

“What are you working on?”

You expect me to work with your hands on me?

“I…um…I was looking at the original investigation into your father’s…case.” His thumb was sliding up and down the side of her throat, a lazy glide that was scrambling her brain.

“You’ve had, what, thirty minutes to hack the garda central computer and dig that up? That was quick.”

Warmth flushed her cheeks, a totally different kind of pleasure. “It’s what I do.”

“It is.” Fionn straightened, then took advantage of the wheeled chair to slide her back from the desk. “Right now, let’s be doing dinner, yeah?”

It didn’t look like he was giving her a choice. Probably a good thing—she was fully capable of immersing herself in work to the detriment of everything around her, including her health, and tonight she had no desire to miss another dose of pain medicine. This afternoon had been a nightmare. “Okay.”

When she stood, Fionn didn’t move. His big body blocked out the room, and when his arms came around her to plant on either side of her hips, his bulk forced her against the edge of the desk. Easing her butt onto the surface, she tried not to drool at the width of those muscular shoulders right in front of her.

“I’m up here,” he said, amusement lightening his tone. If her cheeks had been warm before, now they went nuclear.

She lifted her eyes to meet his gorgeous green ones. God. This man was too sexy to be real.

Except the body he pushed between her knees to press against her was definitely real. Her throat closed, refusing her next breath. “What are you doing?”

“We called a truce, remember?”

A truce, not a full-on assault. “Of course I remember.” I also remember you wanting to kill me a few days ago.

“A truce won’t be gettin’ us anywhere if I don’t give it my absolute best, will it?”

“I…” It felt ridiculous to want to put on brakes when she was getting exactly what she’d dreamed about all these years. “I’m just…”

“Uncertain?” One long finger came up beneath her chin, lifted. “Maybe a little scared?”

Her gaze locked with his. The need she saw there stole any response she’d hoped to come up with.

“I’ve been after scaring you too much up till now,” Fionn admitted, the fire dimming for the briefest moment in his eyes. “I’m sorry for that. And”—his finger slid along her jaw to a sensitive spot she hadn’t known about, just below her ear—“I know you’re not used to men, so I figure I need to be gettin’