Criminal: A Bad-Boy Stepbrother Romance by Alexis Abbott, Alex Abbott

I’m taken back five years, and I’m just a kid again.
But I flick on the light and help Kaiden to the bed and I’m
reminded of just how much I’m not.
    “Stay here, I’m going to grab you some
Tylenol,” I say before making my way out once more and to the
machine. I’m grateful for the time away, but honestly, all I
can think about is coming back to him.
    Spending the night with him.
    It’s so wrong, picturing his body pressed to
mine, the way it makes my knees tremble with desire and my hands
shake with uncertainty. Maybe I should just spend the night in the
car, get away from it all and then just... take off.
    But I know I can’t. We’re in this
together now, and I’m not going to run from it.
    When I return to the room with the Tylenol and water,
though, and see him shirtless, laying back on the bed, I can’t
help but stare.
    His broad chest exposed, thick, corded muscles all on
display as he rubs at his body, testing his ribs, clearly checking to
see if any were broken. He's bruised, badly so, and cut in a few
places, but none of that ruins just how much sex appeal my he has as
he lays there, inspecting himself.
    “Luckily, none of those idiots were clever
enough to buy a pair of steel-toed boots,” he says. Judging by
the grimace he gives as he presses along one rib, though, they’d
done one hell of a job without it anyhow.
    I go into the bathroom, grabbing a towel before
returning to him, kneeling on the bed.
    “Here,” I say, passing him some pills and
the bottle of water as I bring the slightly wetted towel to the bow
of his lip, cleaning him of the blood from his nose.
    The motel is completely silent, and I know it’s
probably just before dawn. There’s that strange stillness in
the air, like all the world has fallen away. Everyone but Kaiden and
I, holed up in a motel room at the edge of town.
    “We should really go to a hospital,” I
say with a whisper, my hand reaching out, trembling before I lightly
touch my fingers to the bruise along his side. He winces, and I
withdraw my hand, but I continue to stare.
    “You know we can’t do that,” he
says, his bare chest heaving with his heavy breathing. He’s a
massive man, and so battered and bruised, he looks like he’s a
gladiator from out of the past, having come to save me when I needed
him most.
    He lets me clean his wounds with the wet towel,
knocking back the pills and water after I move from his face, on down
to his bloodied torso. Though all the while, his eyes are upon me no
less intently than mine are on him.
    “Whatever happens, I don’t want you to be
in any more trouble, Princess. You hear me? That money is sittin’
and waiting for you, and whatever comes, I need you to be safe, so I
know you’ll be able to enjoy it. That means more to me than
anything right now,” he says, his husky voice so rough and
firm.
    When I don’t respond fast enough for him,
pondering his words and what they meant, he reaches out, grasps my
arm and squeezes. His bicep bulging as he does.
    “You hear me, Princess?” he says, but his
words aren’t angry, they’re… loving.
    My eyes flit to his, and I nod gently, though I have
that sick feeling in my stomach and I know I’m not going to run
this time.
    More importantly, I’m not going to let him run.
    I hold his green, smoldering gaze and swallow.
    There’s always been this strange emotion, this
connection, and we’ve both tried so hard to ignore it. It
wouldn’t be bad just to ignore it one more night. Just fall
asleep, like we were kids sharing a bed.
    I sit back, putting the towel aside before taking off
my high heels and letting them drop to the floor.
    “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
    Though how I would keep my calm next to my girlhood
crush, when he’s lying there, glistening and bare-chested,
looking gloriously tough after putting his life on the line for us
both…
    He doesn’t quite let go of my arm though, and
no sooner are the heels off than he tugs me in. I land upon his