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“That.”
She nods to a glass decanter on the dresser. It glows green like the color of Hannah’s eyes in my flashlight.
Neither of us needs to ask what that is.
“Do you . . . do you think something bad happened?”
“Hannah—” I grit and I almost feel guilty when she winces at my tone.
“No, Mason. I know you don’t care,” she snaps, actually stomping her foot. “But if someonetookher, don’t you think it’s a good idea to find out who? I mean, what if they’re coming after everyone attached to your stepfather.”
“Parker,” I correct and she growls under her breath, shaking her head.
“Okay, fine. Call him whatever you want, but this concerns more than just me. Your mother got a finger in her mailbox.” She squares her shoulders. “I’m going to that club.”
Immediately, I shake my head. “No.”
“I didn’t ask you to come with me.”
“And you aren’t going alone, either.”
“You aren’t my father,” she bites, eyes flaring in the pale glow of her dying flashlight.
“No, but I’m all you’ve got. We aren’t going.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but a creak downstairs causes her to shut her mouth tight, eyes going wide.
“Security! Anyone inside?”
Oh, fuck.
Hannah jerks at the sound of the voice downstairs, but I seal a hand over her mouth to silence her and push her back against the wall. It’s not the best position. My front pressed completely against hers, her wide eyes staring up at me in fear. I know she can feel my cock and the evidently permanent hard-on pressed into her stomach, but there aren't a lot of choices in a situation like this.
We listen to the sounds of two pairs of feet moving about the house downstairs, and I wrack my brain for a way out of this situation.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Take off your shirt.”
Hannah’s eyes turn to sharp points. She mumbles something against my hand and I remove my fingers with a sigh.
“No,” she whispers.
“Take off your shirt,” I growl, stepping back from her. “And get on the bed.”
She starts to argue, again, but I don’t let her. I crush my lips to hers, lifting her quickly and spinning her back toward the bed before depositing her on top of the covers. I rip my shirt over my head, then hers, and pull her back to me in a rush.
She tries to push at my shoulders, but I only tug her closer until her body lines up with mine. Only then, does she seem to understand the plan.
I try not to think of the way she fucking feels in my hands. How much I’ve craved the taste of her. How little convincing it would take to get me to abandon my morals completely and fuck her right here, in her missing sister’s bed. Despite everything, a groan rumbles from deep in my chest. Tasting her feels like coming home.
Somewhere along the line, the kiss becomes blurred, but not enough that I don’t hear the footsteps of the men on the stairs. Just when they breach the bedroom door, I’m rolling my hips into Hannah’s and a soft moan slips free from her lips.
“Hey! You two didn’t hear us calling?”
Fucking hell. It’s about fucking time they showed up.
They flick on the light overhead and Hannah breaks away from me with a gasp, working to cover herself up with the comforter below her.
