Special Forces Saviour

“Okay, I’ll put it back out for you.” He slipped it into his pocket.

She stood there in the doorway swamped in his jacket, plaster in her hair, smelling like smoke, smiling her slightly awkward smile that always seemed to be uniquely for him.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

All the lecturing he’d given himself on the drive here about not dragging her down into his darkness completely vanished.

Molly was alive and he had to taste her.

He slipped one arm around her small waist under his jacket and threaded his other hand through the hair at her scalp underneath her long brown braid. He backed her up against the door frame and brought his lips down to hers.

He heard her soft gasp of surprise and took advantage of it to slip his tongue into her mouth. A knot of need twisted inside him as he drew her closer. He felt her arms wrap around his neck as her tongue dueled with his.

His jacket falling from her shoulders and pooling at their feet brought some sense of reality back to Derek.

This could not happen. As much as he wanted it to.

He dropped both hands to her waist and took a step back. “Molly...”

She blinked up at him, arms still around his neck.

“Molly, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?” She leaned forward again.

Hell if he could remember why in this moment. Her lips were almost to his. If he kissed her again he wasn’t sure he would have the strength to stop. “You have plaster in your hair.”

“What?”

“Plaster. It’s all in your hair.”

Her face that had just been so flushed and soft from his kisses became shuttered. Her arms dropped to her sides, before one came up to her head to find the plaster he had mentioned. Why the hell had he said that? He didn’t care about anything being in her hair. He’d just meant that she had been through a trauma and that they shouldn’t do anything she might regret.

Or he might regret. Like break her heart.

“Oh. Yeah. I—I probably need a shower pretty badly.”

The thought of Molly in the shower had everything in Derek’s body tightening, but the slight stutter wasn’t lost on him. He hated that he’d made her uncomfortable around him again. And her eyes were wounded.

Damn it. He had to get out of here just to stop the damage he was inflicting.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, okay?” He glanced down at his watch. “Actually, that’s only about four hours from now, so let’s make it ten. You’ll need to give an official report.”

Molly nodded and stepped inside her door. She picked up his jacket and held it out to him, wary, as if she didn’t know what to expect.

Derek didn’t blame her. He couldn’t run more hot and cold if he tried.

He took the blazer from her. “Just get some rest. It’s been a crazy day for all of us.”

He waited until she closed the door—without a word—then turned and walked back to his car.

Damn it.

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