Page 41 of Property of Anchor
I stepped back, letting the screen door swing open.He didn’t come in right away.He stepped up to the threshold and stubbed out his cigarette on the porch rail, then snuffed it out with the toe of his boot.Only then did he walk in.
His eyes scanned the small space, like he was checking for danger or maybe just buying time.
“You smell like coconut,” he said.
“Shampoo,” I replied, pushing a damp strand of hair behind my ear.“Do you want something?Water?Beer?”
“I want you.”
The words dropped between us like a match in dry brush.
My breath caught.
He stepped closer, his boots making almost no sound on the wood floor.“I’ve tried to keep my distance.I really have, Pearl.”His voice was low, rough.“But I can’t stop thinking about you.And seeing you every day—working, laughing with your crew, making this place something special—fuck, it’s killing me.”
I stood frozen as he lifted his hand and traced a single finger along my jaw.
“I know you’re not part of this life.And I know I’m dragging you into shit you don’t deserve.But if you’ll let me…” His eyes searched mine.“I want to be close to you.”
I didn’t say anything.
Instead, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.
He didn’t hesitate.His hands came to my waist, gripping tightly, and pulled me in.My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as I kissed him like I’d been starving for it, because I had been.It was hungry, messy, and completely unprofessional.
His tongue slid against mine, slow and teasing at first, but when I nipped his bottom lip, he growled and walked me backward until I hit the wall.His hands roamed up my back, down my sides, and then across my hips.My legs wobbled, and I clutched him tighter, trying to ground myself in the feel of him.
“You sure about this?”he murmured against my mouth.
“Anchor,” I whispered.“I’ve been sure.”
That was all it took.His mouth crashed back to mine as he lifted me, and my legs wrapped around his waist.He carried me to the couch.He sat down with me wrapped around him like I was something breakable.His hands never stopped moving, exploring, mapping me out like he’d been waiting a lifetime to learn my curves.
We barely came up for air, and when we did, he looked at me like I was the most dangerous thing he’d ever faced.
Anchor’s hands slid under my shirt with rough fingertips grazing over my skin like they belonged there.My legs were still wrapped around his waist, and I could feel every inch of him pressed against me.Every muscle.Every bit of want.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he muttered against my neck.
“You’re doing a terrible job,” I whispered back and tipped my head so he could kiss the spot under my jaw.
He groaned low in his throat.“Not gonna lie, doll.I’m okay with failing right now.”
I grinned, and my eyes fluttered shut.
Knock knock knock.
The sharp rap on the door snapped me out of the moment like a bucket of ice water.My eyes flew open, and I practically shoved Anchor off of me.
He blinked, caught himself on the arm of the couch, and growled something very unkind under his breath.
Knock knock knock.
“Pearl?”Bernice’s voice drifted in, muffled through the door but still distinct.“I brought over that book I told you about.The one with the woman who ends up sleeping with a criminal.”
I blinked at Anchor.
He blinked back.
