Gambled - A Titan Novella Read Free Page B

second honeymoon,” he urged.
    She snatched her hand away.
    Wrong thing to say. Honeymoons were all about flirting and screwin’ and—well, he’d take that too. “Angel.”
    “Time to go.” She stood up, nearly knocking over her chair.
    Still seated, he looked at the floor, dropped his forearms to his knees, and bent over. So close, and she was backing away again. He scrubbed a hand over his face then raised his head to rake his gaze over her. That knockout was still his wife, and there wasn’t a thing wrong with wanting her like he always did. Perfect breasts. Perfect hips. Pouty lips that could kiss and suck. No, nothing about the word honeymoon was off-putting to him.
    Brock unfolded himself from the chair. He crossed his arms and studied. Dilated pupils. Shorter breaths. Her sharp stare dropped to the tattoos on his arm then roamed across his chest. He might not be Titan anymore, but he still had the skills to decipher the micro-emotions of a victim. Sarah wasn’t reacting as a victim. Not right now. She was reacting aroused . Shocked, maybe at how she felt, angry that her responses betrayed her attitude. But honeymoon didn’t scare her from him, just their conversation.
    “Hell, I’ve missed you.” The words rumbled from his chest.
    She took a step back, her nipples outlined through the fabric of her shirt. “You already said that.”
    Springing an erection on her would be a worst-case scenario. Smart idea or not, he took a step forward. And another. Until Sarah was against the wall and he had inches to spare. “If you think packing up and moving out does anything to change my wanting you, you’re crazy. Because goddamn, angel, it’d be a lie. Take your ticket. Think it over and get on the plane.”
    He brushed the hair off her cheek, pinning it behind an ear, and kissed her cheek. He lingered, letting his hips feel their fire, and he breathed in summer and sunshine. A nice, long breath. Just in case she didn’t show and he needed something to remember.
    Brock stepped back. Her eyes were closed. Her chin dropped down. His eyes traveled over her body, memorizing every swell and curve. It was her hands that would stick with him. Palms flat against the wall. Fingers splayed and flexed.
    He turned, took his one ticket from the envelope, and left her alone with her thoughts.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Surprised by the tsunami of skin prickles cascading down her neck, Sarah clung to the wall long after Brock’s heavy footfalls retreated out the front door. Her eyes stayed closed, still seeing him. Feeling him. Craving him.
    She slid down the wall, landing in a turned-on mess. He’d always been her superhero. She’d always been his angel. Why did he have to break that out, when she had been struck so vulnerable by his very presence?
    The Brock she’d married didn’t run off and talk to therapists. He had all the answers. He’d known all solutions… well, until he didn’t. In years of marriage, they’d had their share of fights. But he’d never been flat-out wrong. Even if she’d accused him of it. Until she and the kids had been taken.
    Sarah slipped a hand over her open mouth. For all his muscles, his warrior-like toughness, he’d made himself vulnerable and asked for help. A therapist? It was so unlike him.
    But that wasn’t why she plastered herself against the wall and remained on her floor, nearly hyperventilating. His smoky, dark eyes comforted her, even if his arms hadn’t. They’d seared her senseless. She couldn’t help but visually trace the cording of his muscles. The colors tattooed on his arm that she knew spilled onto his back.
    He was rock solid. Wide as their house. Defined tall, dark, and deadly. He’d worshipped the ground she walked on. She knew that, and seeing him was a vivid reminder. Her mind was cloudy and confused. Every time she thought of the kids’ safety, she panicked. When she thought of him, she felt betrayed. But when she saw him, Brock broke through the mental barrier