Dangerous to Touch by Jill Sorenson

else?”
    “I don’t know,” she wailed, covering her face with her hands.
    “You were in his mind, right?” he persisted. “What was he like? What did he remind you of?”
    “A bully,” she said with a shudder. “Maybe it’s the wrong word, but that’s what he reminded me of.”
    “Why?”
    “Something about him made me think of a boy I used to know in grade school. He would pull my hair, call me a witch, stuff like that.” She ran a hand over her cap of short black hair, as if remembering. “He liked to inflict pain. Isn’t that what bullies do?”
    He took out his cell phone and called CSI, requesting they rope off the area to collect evidence. It was a logical move, even without Sidney’s vision. Violent, sexually motivated criminals often returned to the scene for physical gratification.
    Upon ending the call, he studied her carefully. It was getting more and more difficult to discredit her impressions. And impossible to control his attraction to her.
    She was facing away from him, arms crossed over her chest, head down, exposing the pale skin at her nape. Drawn to that tender, vulnerable place, he put his hand there, tracing the top of her spine with his thumb.
    She flinched at his touch, but didn’t pull away.
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    She was silent for a moment. “I guess we’re two of a kind.” She jerked her chin toward the rest room. “Me and him.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    She stared at him over her shoulder, anguish in her eyes, until he caught her meaning.
    “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Do you get off on raping women? Torturing them? Watching them die?”
    “Of course not.”
    He wanted to shake some sense into her. “What you did, in the privacy of your own bedroom, is nothing like what he did here. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “How would you feel if someone watched you? Listened to you?”
    He dropped his hand from her neck, feeling the muscles in his own shoulders tighten in frustration. He searched for the right words to justify his actions, when there were none. “There’s no excuse for my behavior,” he said. Not only was it contrary to protocol, it was completely at odds with his moral code. “You’re beautiful-”
    She turned to face him, disbelief apparent on her slack features.
    “That’s not the only reason I did it,” he admitted, shoving his fingers through his hair. He’d invaded her privacy, and yet he was the one who felt totally exposed. Never had he been less able to govern his emotions. Had she put some kind of spell on him? “I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t look away.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “If the room had been on fire, in that moment, I couldn’t have looked away.”
    She stared back at him, thunderstruck.
    “You are so clueless,” he said softly. “How can you see everything else, and not know how much I want you?”
    Her smoky, wet-lashed eyes wandered over his face like a silken caress. “You what?”
    “I want you,” he ground out, meaning the words as a warning this time.
    When she moistened her lips, as if in anticipation, he took control of the only thing he could: her mouth. He pulled her body against his, wanting to punish her for making him want her so much he’d become reckless and impulsive, the kind of man he despised.
    To his amazement, her lips parted and she kissed him back, tentatively at first, shyly touching her tongue to his. Then she moaned, flattening her breasts against his chest and lacing her fingers through his hair, driving him right over the edge from inappropriate to insane.
    Groaning, he deepened the kiss, tasting her thoroughly, plumbing the sweet recesses of her mouth. His hands, no less eager to explore, moved down to cup her bottom. With a slight shudder, he pressed close, unable to contain his excitement, or his arousal. There were advantages to her height, he discovered. He didn’t have to lift her to get her in the position he wanted. They fit together