Chapter 225
[ 489 words ]
Chapter 225:
Jarrod stared at her. A dark, suffocating wave of possessive obsession swelled in his chest. He had almost lost her. The thought of those cleaners touching her made his vision swim with red.
He needed to feel her. He needed physical, undeniable proof that she was alive, warm, and his.
Jarrod reached out, his large, calloused hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. His rough thumb traced the line of her jaw.
Then he leaned forward. He didn’t wake her gently. He didn’t ask.
Jarrod pressed his mouth directly against her slightly parted lips.
The kiss was not tender. It was a brutal, desperate collision, a physical claiming driven by fear and exhaustion. His mouth moved over hers, heavy and demanding, urging her lips apart with raw, insistent pressure.
Deep in her sleep, Caroline’s brain registered the sudden loss of breath.
Her suppressed operative instincts fired instantly. Her body went completely rigid. A threat was on top of her. Her hands shot up from under the covers, her palms slamming into the hard, muscular wall of the chest above her, preparing to execute a defensive strike.
But in the microsecond before she reacted, her senses caught up with the moment.
The heavy scent of cedarwood cologne, mixed with the sharp, metallic smell of gunpowder and exhaustion.
It was Jarrod.
𝘠𝗼𝘂r 𝗇𝗲x𝘁 𝗳𝘢𝗏o𝘳𝘪𝗍𝘦 𝗋𝖾аd 𝗂s 𝗈𝘯 𝘨𝖺lոо𝘃𝘦𝗅ѕ.𝘤𝗼𝗆
Caroline’s eyes snapped open, her pupils blown wide in the dim light.
She stared straight up into Jarrod’s bloodshot, pitch-black eyes. He was mere inches from her face.
When Jarrod felt her hands against his chest, he didn’t pull back. Instead, he let out a low, rough sound. He slid his large hand behind her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and held her there.
He deepened the kiss with the same overwhelming intensity, and Caroline’s brain short-circuited. The adrenaline of her startled reaction collided head-on with the sheer relief of finally having him back. Her hands, which had been meant to push him away, slowly uncurled. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his sweat-stained T-shirt instead, holding on as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Nearly three minutes passed before Caroline’s lungs began to burn for air. Her chest heaved against his. She let out a small, breathless sound and weakly pressed against his shoulders.
Jarrod finally broke away.
He pulled back exactly one inch. Their noses brushed. Their breath mingled in the narrow space between them, hot and ragged.
Caroline stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her lips swollen. Her mind was spinning.
“How…” Caroline gasped, her voice thick and raspy with sleep. “How are you here? You were in a war zone.”
Jarrod stared down at her mouth, his chest heaving. He didn’t want to tell her about the assassins. He didn’t want to put that fear in her eyes.
“I came back because my men reported trouble here,” Jarrod rasped, his voice dark and heavy. “Until I figure out exactly who is moving in the shadows, you aren’t going anywhere.”
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