It takes every ounce of willpower to break our kiss and pull away from her, but I need to get her out of here. I won’t compromise her safety just to get my dick wet. This girl deserves so much more than a quick fuck on the couch. She deserves everything. I just hope I’m lucky enough to be the man who gives it to her.
Spencer’s chest is heaving as she catches her breath, her lips are swollen, and her face is flushed from the way we devoured each other. She’s a vision. My wicked angel, equal parts innocence and pure sin. Temptation and salvation. A contradiction worthy of the woman herself, carrying around her light while harboring darkness deep in her soul.
She leans in for more, and God, do I want to give it to her. But not here. Not now.
“We have to stop, sweetheart,” I tell her when she pouts at me. That’s a dangerous look. It makes me want to put something between those swollen pink lips of hers.
“Why?” Her brown eyes are nearly black with lust, but I have to stay strong. “Oh. Outside…” She gasps softly, her muscles tensing up when she remembers why I wrapped her up in a blanket and held her in the first place.
“You’re safe with me,” I promise her, easing some of her fear. “Do you trust me? Trust that I’ll protect you?”
“With all of me,” Spencer answers immediately. Her words make me feel about ten feet tall, and I resist the urge to beat my chest like a victorious warrior. Damn if I don’t feel like one, though.
“Then we need to pack you a bag and hit the road.”
“What? Where? Why?”
I feel her start to panic, so I cup the back of her neck, massaging it lightly as I tip her head up. “Do you trust me?” I ask again, willing her to say yes. I don’t think anyone is in the house, and I doubt the place is bugged, but I don’t want to give any more information just in case. That’s how stupid mistakes are made.
Spencer nods her head, leaning forward slightly to rub her nose against mine. Something about that feels so right, so comforting. Like home. Or like I imagine home would feel like. I’ve never experienced that before, but I feel it settle deep in my bones. Spencer is my home now.
I help her off my lap, groaning when she brushes against my throbbing erection. She looks at me over her shoulder and gives me the sexiest little grin. I swat her ass as she wiggles around on my lap, making her gasp and then laugh softly.
“Christ, woman, you’re gonna be the death of me,” I growl, leaning forward to suck on the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
Spencer hums in satisfaction, then hops off, leaving me wanting so much more. How can such a pure creature be so effortlessly seductive?
Twenty minutes later, we’ve finally loaded up the car and are on our way to a remote cabin near Sausalito, California.
I helped Spencer pack a small suitcase with clothes and toiletries, and then somehow found myself loading up two more suitcases with enough craft supplies to last a year. My resolve to only stick with the essentials crumbled when she turned those big brown eyes on me. There’s nothing I would deny my angel. If she doesn’t already know that, she will soon.
I merge onto the highway and set a steady speed toward the cabin in the woods. I'll take back roads once we get closer, but for now, we're hiding in plain sight, getting lost in traffic.
Spencer has been quiet this whole time. When I look over at her, she has her arms wrapped around herself again, looking out the window.
I want to pull over, haul her curvy little body into my lap, and hug her. It seemed to help last time. I hate that she’s been the only one to comfort herself these last few years. I get the sense her father hasn’t been around that much. I’ll have to talk to him about his absence. Marcus should have been there for his daughter. I suppose I can get it all out in the open when I tell him Spencer is mine now.
I reach out and gently stroke her left arm, coaxing her to unwrap it so I can lace our fingers together.
"It's going to be okay," I tell her softly. She nods but doesn't look at me.
I focus my attention on the road, trying to figure out a way to ease her anxiety. So far I know hugs, blankets, and possibly sitting on my lap helps, but I can’t act on any of that right now.
“I don’t know why this is happening,” Spencer murmurs. “I don’t know what I did or why I’m being targeted.”
“You know none of this is your fault, right?”
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
I can hear how tired she is, the defeat in her voice cracking my heart in two. I know today was a lot for her. First her panic attack, then telling me about her mom, followed by me practically mauling her...it’s all catching up to her.
“This,” I say, lifting our hands up and looking at her briefly. “You can be sure about this Us. We’re solid, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
My eyes are back on the road, but I feel her little hand squeezing me right back. Spencer shuffles around in her seat, then scoots closer so her head is resting on my bicep. She melts against me and sighs so sweetly.
I must have said something right to get her to relax. I make a mental note to remind her regularly how much she means to me if it soothes her this much.
“I started getting letters about a month ago,” she says softly.
I've wanted to ask her about her stalker since I first laid eyes on her, but between her running away from me and then us avoiding each other the last few days, I didn't get a chance. She's already spilled so much of her heart out today, and here she is, giving me more of her pain. I want it all. If I could carry her pain for her, I would. All I can do is share the weight of her burden and hopefully provide the strength she needs to heal once and for all.
“The first one was a poem. I found it on the front step when I went outside to fill up my bird feeders. The envelope just had my name on it, no address or stamp or anything.”
So the fucker definitely knows where she lives. Why didn't Marcus tell me that? I would have insisted on taking her to a safe house from day one. I don't know what to do with this information, so I tuck it away for now.
“What did the poem say?”
"I had to look it up to be sure, but it's a line from a Pablo Neruda poem." She takes a breath before reciting the poem as if she's played it over and over in her head in the weeks since she received it. "You are here. Oh, you do not run away. You will answer me to the last cry. Curl round me as though you were frightened. Even so, a strange shadow once ran through your eyes.”
Spencer shivers as the last word falls from her lips. I have no idea who this Pablo person is, but he must’ve been some sort of famous poet. Of course, Spencer would know something like that. A big brute like me? I can’t say I’ve ever read a poem in my life.
"The poem is actually really romantic," she adds. "But not like this. I mean, who would send me something like that? I hardly talk to anyone except when I’m doing my online classes. Even then, I don't have my camera on or anything, so it's not like they can see me or any identifying things about my surroundings. It was one of the things my dad made me agree to in order to take classes in the first place."
I nod, taking in all of this information. So Marcus is protective of her, just not in the way she needs. Or maybe he’s overprotective because he knows about some threat she doesn’t.