Savage Hunger (Savage Trilogy 1) - Page 43

I dress in jeans that I pair with a pink fluffy sweater that I consider my comfort sweater for no reason other than it just is. It’s also not sexy at all. It’s big. It shows nothing. It most assuredly does not say: I slept in your shirt last night and want to have sex with you again despite knowing you’re an asshole. It says: not feeling it. Which is good. Because I do not want to have sex with Rick Savage ever again. And not because he’s a killer. Because he really is an asshole. Who is also really good with his mouth. A memory of him between my legs has me groaning. Oh good Lord. I’m a fool over this man.

Shoving away that self-destructive thought, I focus on protecting my father. I don’t know what Rick is going to do besides kill Gabriel, which should freak me out, but I seem to be numb. All of this feels impossible, like a bad dream, but I can’t live in that space or this bedroom. I have to go out there and face Rick Savage, and the challenges before me. But I also need to count on me and my plan. I need that ring to be back on my hand. I need to stay my path with Gabriel until I can talk to my father.

I hurry through the bedroom, exiting while steeling myself for a half-naked hot man I’ll be forced to encounter, my heart thundering in my chest. Once I reach the kitchen, it’s empty and a peek in the living room says it is as well. I stand there listening, with no sound but the ticking of the clock on the wall. He’s not here. He left. Hugging myself, I fold forward with the blow of this realization. He’s gone. I should be happy. A killer that used me and hurt me is gone. But I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again and that is almost unfathomable. I let the brutal stab of pain become anger and set myself in motion. I need to dig that ring out of the trash. I need to start thinking about what comes next.

I hurry into the kitchen to find a pot of fresh coffee. What a jerk. He had coffee before he left. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He had me, too, spread wide and moaning. Why not my coffee? I open the trashcan to find the bag missing. Oh my God. Oh my God, no. I rush to the garage door and yank it open, to still at the sight of a black Porsche sitting in my garage. A very expensive black Porsche at that.

“I made a lot of money killing people.”

At Rick’s voice, I turn to find him standing a few steps from me. I whirl on him and yank the door shut behind me. And I don’t know how he did it, but the big brute of a man is in black jeans, a black T-shirt, and boots. And that scar on his face screams of a life and secrets I don’t know and will never know. It taunts me the way he’s taunting me right now, and I’m officially at my limit, a limit that’s been building for weeks with the men in my life. I lose it. I make some animalistic sound that I don’t even recognize as my own and launch myself at him.

He catches me before I do any damage and then next thing I know I’m pressed against the wall, his big body caging mine.

“What are you doing, woman?” he demands.

“I’m tired of being played with. I can’t take it. First Gabriel. Now you. I can’t take it. Are you going to kill me, too? Is that what this is?”

He blanches. “You think I’d kill you?”

“Isn’t that what you want me to think? You’re a killer. You made a lot of money killing people. What do you want from me, Rick?”

Suddenly his hand is under my hair, cupping my neck and he’s dragging my mouth to his. “What I can’t have. What I’ve always wanted. You.” His mouth closes down on mine, his tongue pressing long and deep, drugging me, demanding my response.

I fight to resist. I do, but the taste of him—coffee with some kind of sweet creamer mixed with man—and the woodsy scent of his cologne, undoes me. I moan and sink into the kiss, angry with myself for my weakness. Angry at him for bringing it out in me. But anger doesn’t stop the pain or the absolute hunger for Rick Savage. I will always love him as much as I hate him. The hate is what reminds me of how mean he was last night. About how easily he left me alone in that bed. He hadn’t slept with me in all those years and he chose the couch over me. I shove against him.

Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Savage Trilogy Romance
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