Hunter (Reynolds Protective, #2)

by Rebecca Sharp

“And what about you?” I breathed. His head dipped treacherously close to mine, our breaths knocking together. “I’m the kind of man who’d set his own standard.” Those full lips drifted another inch closer and I felt the embers low in my stomach catch fire. “One that no book boyfriend could come close to.” “That’s very… bold.” I gulped, the heat turning my insides to mush. “How can you be so sure?” Oh, Zoey, what are you doing? Boss. Bad. His left hand skated back up my neck and cupped the side of my face, his thumb stroking a long path along my jawline. “Because book boyfriends are trapped in the pages,” he rasped low. “They can’t tell you how damn beautiful you are, Zoey. They can’t tell you how many nights they’ve dreamed of your smile or desired your touch. They can’t step out of the book to stand in front of you, trembling with ache.” He stepped just close enough to let our fronts touch. Air churned in my lungs, his words like a mortar grinding desire into every one of my cells. I felt myself breathe—truly breathe—for the first time in months. No worry. No fear. No uncertainty. Only Hunter. “They can’t reach out and touch you.” The pad of his thumb slid to the swell of my lower lip, his gaze locking there like a hunter marks his prey.