Wait Until Dawn, Bailey Bradford [best novels to read txt] 📗

bucked and tried to kick his legs out only to find himself straddled by well over two hundred pounds of pissed off man. Chris’ eyes were narrowed, the pupils huge, chasing out the whiskey color until it was only a thin ring. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and his nostrils flared with each sharply indrawn breath. The man looked furious, and his big body tensed, muscles rippling as he tightened his grip on Rich’s wrists.

Oh shit, he was an idiot! He’d let another psycho get to him, and this one was bigger and looking to hurt Rich in a whole different way! McAlister had cut him, imprinting on his skin proof of McAlister’s madness, but he’d never said anything sexual, never touched Rich with even a hint of desire, not even when he’d held Rich’s cock or balls in his hand and nicked that delicate flesh.

“It doesn’t make me crazy to want you,” Chris rumbled, apparently having read Rich’s fears in his expression. “It doesn’t make me a rapist or…or someone who wants to hurt you. And that scar does not make you hideous like you seem to think it does. If anything, it makes you hotter. Rich,” Chris whispered, and all the anger flitted away, leaving a soft look full of compassion and desire on Chris’ face. “I don’t want to hurt you, I want to help you, and I just, oh gods, I just want you.”

Rich’s trampled confidence warred with the flicker of hope warming his belly. Instincts he’d used as a detective kicked in. Chris sounded sincere, his body was tense, yes, but he wasn’t forcing himself on Rich, only holding him down to keep him from striking out again. Or keeping him from escaping. Rich’s instincts had done shit all to keep him safe from McAlister, another detective with whom Rich had worked in the same department for years and never suspected of being a sociopath.

“Rich, I didn’t mean to scare you. What can I do to make you believe me?” Chris drilled Rich with a look so intense Rich found himself wanting to believe him. “I know what might help.”

Rich tried to wiggle and get Chris off of him to no avail. “Yeah, getting the fuck off me and letting me out would help a lot.”

Chris sighed as he slid off Rich’s lap. “I’m off, and I’ll let go of your wrists if you give me your word you won’t deck me again. You pack a punch, let me tell you. But I want you to listen to me for a minute, that’s all I’m asking. Will you do that?”

“Is that a condition for my release?” Rich sneered, regretting the impulsive words the second they were out. Why didn’t he just agree then do whatever he had to in order to escape?

Chris’ sigh this time sounded as if it was the release of whatever hope he’d carried inside. “No, of course not.” He stepped back, letting go of Rich’s wrists once he was out of swinging distance. “I’ve screwed this all up.”

To Rich’s surprise, he didn’t shove up from the seat and bolt for the door like he was sure he was going to. Apparently his body had other plans, and his brain was in on it. Instead he watched as Chris rubbed his hands over his bare scalp. A dull flush crept from his thick neck, turning his cheeks ruddy and the tips of his ears pink. Those huge shoulders Rich longed to lick sagged and Chris scooted over and grabbed the door handle. With a twist of his wrist and a soft grunt, he flung the door open and stepped out of the cab. Rich watched the shift and bunching of muscles in the man’s back, then dropped his gaze to the plump round ass he wanted to bury his dick in. Chris stood with his back to Rich and stared off in the direction of the Miata.

“Go on,” Chris said so softly Rich could barely hear him. “I understand you wouldn’t want a big tattooed, pierced guy like me when you can have any pretty boy you flicked a finger toward.” His bitter laugh shocked Rich. It sounded wrong coming from a man who seemed more likely to laugh uninhibitedly. It definitely caused Rich’s heart to twist when he compared it to the heated, lusty look that had lit the man’s eyes minutes earlier.

Rich took a shaky breath then got up, not bothering to slide his shoes back on. He stood in the doorway of the cab and willed Chris to look at him. Chris didn’t get the message though and Rich finally cleared his throat in an overloud manner. Chris’ shoulders tightened then he slowly turned to face Rich, his movements small, as if he were afraid he’d send Rich running if he dared speed up.

When Chris raised his eyes to Rich’s, Rich didn’t know why he’d ever thought the man was a threat. McAlister had had those dead eyes, the ones that never showed any expression, that smiles never reached and tears never filled. Chris’ eyes showed too much, and the pain and regret in their depths made Rich feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” Rich asked.

Chris sucked part of his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head as he darted another glance toward Rich’s car. He pulled his cell phone off his belt clip and looked at the screen, letting his lip pop free of his teeth. A swipe of pink tongue and the glint of metal sent Rich’s libido into overdrive. He clutched at the doorframe until his knuckles ached—it was the only way he could keep from reaching for the other man.

“I… You aren’t…” Rich stopped and tried to organize his jumbled thoughts. This was harder than he’d imagined, but what did he really have to lose? Another day spent alone with the demons that haunted him? And, possibly, the attentions of a