Page 71 of Midnight Mooring

The sea air blasted me as I stepped outside, waking me from my angry stupor. As the pub door slammed shut at my back, reality set in. Fear was instant, crawling over me as I glanced around to see who was about on Main Street at this time in the evening. Tourists stood by the harbor wall, enjoying the view. A local walked past with his dog. He was too tall, though, to have been my attacker. It was horrible, eyeing everyone with suspicion now. And I knew that wasn’t just about the break-in.

Missing the evil that lurked beneath Greig Wallace’s outward charm had made me question those I didn’t know well. It was unimaginable to me that someone had the ability to mask so much darkness … but I had proof it was possible.

And that made it very difficult to trust people.

Shivering, I took a step forward and then remembered I was going home.

Alone.

The pub door clattered behind me. “Cameron!” Forde was suddenly in my path, expression a mix of fury and distress. “I’m not letting you run away from this.”

I glanced around, afraid of providing more fodder for the gossip mill. “I’m not doing this in public.”

“But we are doing this.” Without giving me much of an option (okay, so I could absolutely have walked away if I’d wanted to), Forde curled his hand around my biceps and guided me up Main Street. I was tense in his hold as we quietly seethed on our journey up off the harbor. My house was a few streets back up the hill from the harbor. Dread coiled in my gut as we neared it. I’d been there earlier with Forde, dropping off my stuff, and we’d walked together to the Lantern in companionable silence as he let me digest the thought of returning home.

Now we were pissed off at each other, and I had to return home with him mad at me.

Well, I was mad at him too!

Indignation was a good distraction from my fear. Which is why I launched myself into the house and whirled on him as he stepped inside and shut the door behind us. “How dare you? I’m not something for you to piss around, marking me like an animal.”

His expression tightened. “You know that’s not what that was. I’m not the one who was flirting with someone else when you know things are up in the air between us.”

“I wasn’t flirting with Torin!” And I really hadn’t been. We were just talking. “Just because I have a conversation with another man doesn’t mean I’m flirting. Fuck!”

“He was certainly flirting with you.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, and you let him.” Hurt cut through my wrath. “How could you kiss me like that? Our first kiss in years, Forde, and it wasn’t about us. It was about you marking your claim on me like you damn well own me.”

Forde’s head jerked back like I’d hit him. His next words were hoarse. “If anyone owns anyone here, Cameron, it’s you who owns me. And let’s not pretend it hasn’t been that way for years.”

“I’m not pretending! I had no clue how you felt about me for years, Forde.”

“Now you do! Now you do and you can’t give me an answer.”

“Well, when you go kissing me for the wrong reasons, it doesn’t make me want to give you an answer!” Okay, so I knew I was being childish, but this man got under my skin so⁠—

“The wrong reason?” His tone was dangerous as he took a slow step toward me, eyes raking hotly over my face. “The wrong reason, Cameron?”

I tensed, the air between us dangerous. I could feel it pressing on my skin, flushing me hot from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

When I didn’t speak, my throat too tight with emotion, Forde’s expression hardened with determination.

“Fuck it,” he bit out harshly, seconds before he caught me by the nape, yanking me into his hard kiss.

Forde’s hand fisted in my hair as he held me to him, his lips moving desperately over mine. It felt furious but right all at the same time. Desire was a fog, a spell, shimmering over me, making everything but him disappear. It had never felt like this with anyone but him. And I gave into it, clinging to him, kissing him back with matching longing and frustration. The feel of his beard beneath my palms, his scent in my nose, his hard chest crushed to my breasts.

Forde, Forde, Forde.

Only him.

Always him.

His tongue tangled with mine, and I felt a deep answering throb between my legs. I whimpered into his mouth.

His free hand gripped my arse, hauling my hips against his so I could feel his erection. I ground into him and he grunted, his fingers digging into my jeans as his kiss grew more frenzied. He pushed his thigh between my legs, and I undulated over the hard muscle, needing pressure. More pressure.

All rational thought fled. All my worries and what-ifs and insecurities zoomed right out of the window, and I only wanted him, Forde Dallas, inside me. Now. Fumbling between our bodies, I reached for the button on his jeans.