I was covered from head to toe.
If a bullet came in at our height, it would almost certainly slice through him instead of me.
And he’d just done it so… casually.
Like it was nothing
To use his own body as a shield.
For a woman he didn’t even know.
I’d been raised to be independent and competent, to never need a man to take care of or protect me. So I’d never had the experience of having one do just that.
It was unexpectedly not only sexy but comforting. Enough that my own hands moved without permission, moving up his sides, holding onto him as he continued to cover me even after the tires peeled off again.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Fine.”
His breath was fast, ragged.
His weight was crushing me enough to make it hard to take a breath myself—my breasts flattened by his broad chest. But not a single part of me wanted to move.
He moved first.
And only because there was yelling coming from his phone that had fallen near my head.
“I’m fine,” he called even as he shifted his weight to one arm to reach for it. “Dixon, relax. I’m fine. Don’t come here in case they circle back. Go find the others. Not fucking debating this. Do it.” He paused as he shifted up to his knees, straddling my legs and looking down at me. “Yeah, she’s fine too.”
It was just then that I realized my tuck had come undone as the cool air washed up the skin between my breasts.
I glanced down just as he did.
But I was still mostly covered. Just a little boob curve on display, not anything scandalous.
Before I could reach out, he was grabbing the material with one fist between my boobs, holding tight, then using it to pull me back onto my feet.
Hot.
It was hot.
Was there anything this guy did that wasn’t?
“Don’t look around. You gotta get some clothes on, ‘cause we gotta get the fuck outta here.”
He was right.
But I couldn’t help but glance around, seeing the damage.
It wasn’t that bad.
But there was glass everywhere.
And my monitor that showed me my security feeds was riddled with bullets.
Great.
