He sat in the chair across from me.  He leaned over and took one of my hands. “You miss them.”  It was said as a statement.

“Yeah, I do.” Just that quickly, I’m back there, hiding in the closet, terrified. I look up to see Tank watching me. “They were murdered. It was a home invasion.”

His hand tightens around mine. “I’m so sorry, Emma. When you said they died …”

“Most people assume it was a car accident. I usually don’t correct the assumption. It’s just easier that way but somehow with you, I don’t know. It feels like you’d understand.” I take my hand back and tuck it in my lap.

Touching him is becoming too easy, a habit I can’t afford to adopt.  But he’s watching me with eyes that seem to reflect the kind of horror that I feel inside. He has the eyes of someone who has seen terrible things and survived. Maybe that’s how I knew I could tell him. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t make me talk about it. Instead he does exactly what I need him to do. Listen and be there.

“So what about you? Did you and Finn grow up around here, too?” I take another sip of brandy feigning calm.  I’m way too interested in his story. 

“Yeah, we were raised in Norfolk. Mom tried her best to do it all but she could only do so much.” He sits back and folds his hands behind his head. “I just found out I have three half-brothers, too. My dad was busy after he left us. I didn’t even know they existed until recently.”

Everything he’s saying sounds so foreign from the Maxwell Marshall that I know. How could he not have even known his brothers? Did something happen and they lost contact? It just doesn’t sound right.

“Wow. I can’t even imagine not knowing my sister.”

His eyes remain on the storm.  “It sucks but that’s life.  I’m over it.” Lightning streaks across the sky again and he’s illuminated in the sudden flash of light.  He looks tense despite his relaxed pose, the lines around his eyes and mouth more prominent.

I turn away and look out at the rain.  It seems unfair to watch him in such an unguarded moment, like catching him with his clothes off.  Tank Marshall naked in any sense is not something I can handle right now.

I reach for the bottle of brandy on the table and pour a little more in my glass.  I usually don’t drink hard liquor but under the circumstances I don’t think it would hurt to have seconds.  If I’m going to be stranded in the dark with Tank, I need a little liquid courage.

I hold up the bottle and Tank nods. He holds out his glass for more.  Even being careful, a little of the dark liquid splashes out onto his hand.  He lifts his hand to his mouth and licks up the drops.  I can’t look away, the sight of his tongue sliding over his skin igniting a million different fantasies. 

“See something you like?” His brown eyes soften as he watches me, his eyes lingering on my mouth.

I flush, the heat in my cheeks going straight between my thighs.  It’s bad enough to have these fantasies about him.  It’s unbearable for him to know about it.  A man like Tank can have any woman he wants and no doubt has plenty, probably more than one at a time.  I’m a goody two shoes, former Honor Society president who had only one boyfriend until college.  Not exactly a good match.

“Like I was saying, you’re just not what I expected.  You seem, more normal than I would have thought.”

He leans closer until our shoulders are almost touching.  “You thought I was an arrogant meathead.”

“You are arrogant.  It would take a sledgehammer to chip through that ego of yours.”

“I’m confident.  There’s a difference.” He shrugs and smiles, a slow easy grin that makes my heart bang an extra beat in my chest. “It’s not my fault I’m always right.”

“Modest, too.”

He winks sending a tingle of awareness down my spine.  “You’re not exactly as you first appear either.”  He reaches over and takes the drink from my hand, setting it carefully on the table behind us. 

“You’re always so prim and proper but your hair tells the real story. It’s wild and untamed. You try to control it with these grandma hairstyles but it doesn’t work. This is goddess hair.”  His hands thread through my strands, tugging until the band restraining the thick locks falls away.  My hair falls in a damp golden mass around my shoulders, a tangle of waves spilling into his hands.

“And these plain clothes.” He pops the first button on my shirt free revealing the lace at the top of my bra.  I suck in a hard breath at the sudden look of stark need on his face. His eyes are fixated on the gap in my shirt. The rise and fall of my chest makes my breasts strain against the confines of my bra.  I put a shaky hand over my heart and rub my breastbone.  It feels like I can barely breathe.

“But that’s not who you are, is it?  There’s so much more inside of you.  I can almost see it there beneath the surface, like the first embers of a fire that could rage out of control at any moment.”  He leans closer until he’s directly in front of me, his big body between my legs completely invading my space. His scent curls around me, a rich heady aroma mingled with the crisp scent of rain. 

I whimper softly as his fingers thread through my hair, skimming over my scalp and awakening a myriad of sensations.  My head falls back, vulnerable and open to the soft probing lips that trail over my face and neck.  He nips at the delicate skin right below my ear, licking and biting all the way down to the base of my throat.