Fidgeting with pens, tapping her fingers on a flat surface to make noise, humming to herself. One time he’d hit her so hard, she’d lost consciousness. Why had he done it?
Because she’d breathed too loudly in his direction. And she’d taken it. God, for so long, until an opportunity for escape had presented itself.
At the memory of Tony, Nessa’s anxiety, which had been completely absent all day, flared back to life. She looked away from Murphy as a tremor slid down her spine.
“Nes?” Murphy’s husky voice floated into the web of anxiety forming in her mind. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she answered, her heart beating hard in her ears. “I guess I just thought … I mean, we haven’t had much food today, so I thought you’d be hungry. You know what?” She reached for the door handle, shaky fingers locking tightly around the cold metal bar. “It’s late. I’ll just be going—”
Murphy’s cologne enveloped her a second before she felt him.
His chest lightly pressed against her back as his arm reached around her, his long, strong fingers wrapping around hers on the handle, keeping her from bolting from the SUV.
His presence invaded her space, closing the distance between them as if it were easy. As if he’d wanted to do it all day and couldn’t resist any longer. It was probably just her imagination running wild, but that thought alone made her feel better all the same.
Instead of feeling trapped or a panic attack clawing its way up her throat as Murphy’s large frame surrounded her, Nessa went lax, taking a shuddering breath. Her back pressed against his warm, solid chest. She drew more of that pine and sandalwood fragrance into her lungs, tempted to turn in his arms and bury her face in his neck, just so she could drag as much of his cologne in as possible.
She’d never been so enamored with another man’s scent in her life. It had to be a mating thing, some cosmic force demanding she find Murphy’s smell sublime. But she didn’t care. She loved it. She wanted more of it. The small doses she got throughout theday wouldn’t cut it anymore—she was certain of that, especially when it bulldozed right through her anxiety, as if it were nothing.
“I want to stay for dinner, Nes,” Murphy answered, his voice barely above a whisper as he murmured the words into her ear. His lips brushed against her hair as he spoke, featherlight, and sparks of electricity slid across her skin.
“Really?” Her response was faint, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat as he pressed more fully against her. She could sense him breathing her in. His hand moved from hers and up to her wrist, his thumb sliding delicately over her rapidly beating pulse.
“Come on.” He nuzzled her ear. “Let’s get inside before it gets too cold. I can’t have my human getting sick.”
Hishuman.
Unable to ignore the way her heart flipped in her chest, Nessa nodded. It should have meant nothing; maybe even been offensive. But the words made her feel safe. Protected.
“Istill can’t believe you don’t like toppings on your pizza,” Nessa chided with a shake of her head.
She’d ordered their food a few minutes after they’d come inside, and now they were sitting on the couch in her living room, two large boxes of pizza opened on the coffee table in front of them.
“Well, you banned pineapple and anchovies,” he joked, taking another hearty bite of his last slice. “And I’m fine with toppings,but there’s nothing better than cheese pizza. It’s simple, easy to eat, and delicious.”
She did her best not to stare while he ate, but he hadn’t been lying about shifter eating habits. She’d just watched him put away an entire large cheese pizza all by himself, and by the way he was eyeballing the slices in her own box, she had a feeling he was still starving.
“I’m starting to think I didn’t make you enough spaghetti last night,” she mumbled, taking a bite of her own slice. She barely tasted the pepperoni and sausage, mostly because her attention was on Murphy as his tongue darted out, licking the grease from his upper lip.
Her core spasmed, and she nearly choked on her food, mortified by the sudden desire creeping in. How could she possibly find eating pizza sexy? She had no clue, but she definitely did. Or maybe it waswhowas eating the pizza.
Murphy licked his lower lip next, and she nearly dropped her slice, feeling too flustered to function properly.
Get a grip on yourself before you look like an idiot.
It wasn’t her fault she felt like a bumbling virgin. Not really. It washisfault for crowding against her in his car tonight, teasing her with his scent and body. For earlier in her office, too, and then this morning near her own car.
Unintentionally, he’d toyed with her, and now that they were alone, with only half a couch cushion separating them, she didn’t know how to act. Yes, it wasdefinitelyhis fault.
“I appreciated the gesture, regardless.” Murphy groaned, and her thighs clenched as he leaned back against the couch cushions, a hand rubbing over his flat, sweater-clad stomach. “It’s been a long time since someone cooked for me.”
She couldn’t help but stare as his fingers slid over the ridges of what she could only assume were sculpted abdominal muscleshidden beneath his clothing. Did he have a six-pack? Eight? What about a drool-worthy V-shape right below?
She bet he did.
How perfect would his body be if she ever saw it without being delirious from blood loss? She hated that she didn’t remember how he’d looked the one time she’d had a chance to witness him in all of his glory. She knew he was well-built, but aside from that, it was all a blank in her mind.
It’s for the best. His drool-worthy abs are not for you!You’re just friends, remember?
