Page 41 of Shattered By the Currents

She tasted like coffee and sugar.

When she eventually started to retreat, he had to physically force himself to let her go. To allow that distance to be formed between them even though all he wanted to do was ease her back and press her to the mattress.

Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, like she was shocked at what had just passed.

He wasn’t. He’d felt something the moment he’d set eyes on this woman. Connection. Desire. Electricity. The kiss had fed into all of that.

10

Raven didn’t want to open her eyes. God, thispillow…it was soft and buttery and molded around her head. And the sheets were so warm, they swaddled her.

She hadn’t woken up warm in a long time. Weeks.

Because the community center wasn’t warm. And her pillow wasn’t soft or buttery.

Her eyes flashed open.

Notthe community center. The spare room at Connor’s house. Because she’d slept here.

The previous night came back to her in a rush. The smoke. Her anger. Connor saving her.

And that kiss…

She reached up and ran her finger over her mouth. Was it crazy that she could almost still feel his lips against her?

She’d never been kissed like that before. Slow but certain. Gentle but firm. Like he knew exactly what to do to make the world fall silent.

Granted, she’d only ever kissed one other man. The same man she’d dated since high school—who’d also turned out to be a psychopath.

There was no comparison between the two. None.

Slowly, she sat up, scrubbing her hands over her eyes as her mind shifted again, back to her car. Today, she needed to call a mechanic. How she’d pay that mechanic, she wasn’t sure. She barely had a dollar to her name.

Xander would love this.

She frowned at the pile of clothes on the chair. They hadn’t been there when she’d gone to sleep. Had Connor left them?

She climbed out of bed and crossed the room, lifted the T-shirt and jeans. NotherT-shirt and jeans. She didn’t own a black top with Metallica written across the chest.

She checked the tag. Her size. Interesting. Did Connor have a secret stash of women’s clothes for this very situation?

Her stomach did a little turn at the thought.

She shook her head. Shower. She needed a shower and then she could focus on sorting out her life.

But the bathroom was in the hall.

She glanced down at the shirt she’d slept in. A shirt he’d lent her. It was navy blue and so oversized, it hit her knees. The second she’d pulled it over her head last night, his scent had surrounded her.

Another reason she’d slept so well?

Argh.

She grabbed the pile of clothes and poked her head into the hall. Empty. Good.

Silently, she tiptoed toward the bathroom. Why she felt the need to be quiet, she had no idea. Connor was ex-military. He was probably trained to wake at the sound of a penny hitting carpet. Plus, it was eight, not exactly early.

She stepped into the bathroom—only for her heart to jump into her throat at the sight of broad shoulders. “Connor!”