What He Shields (What He Wants Book Seventeen) by Hannah Ford

turned back to the sink,
my heart pounding.   I gripped the
edge of the counter so hard I   left marks on my fingers.   I wanted to cut again so badly, but the
fact that Colt had caught me had completely ruined any relief I might get from
it.
    I splashed cold water on my face and on my
wrists.
    When I got back to the bedroom, Colt was
standing by the bed.  
    “If you’re going to try and give me some big
lecture on why I shouldn’t be cutting, you can save your breath,” I said.   “My foster mom tried doing that every
month since I was fourteen, and it obviously didn’t work.”   I didn’t mention the countless social
workers, the psychotherapists, the inpatient clinic they put me in for two
weeks.   None of it worked, or if it
did, it wasn’t for long.
    “I don’t lecture people,” Colt said.   He reached out and took my wrist, pulled
me close to him so that our chests were touching.   “I don’t believe in big speeches.   Words are just words.   They don’t mean shit.”
    I laughed.   “ Ain’t that the truth. ”
    He turned my hand over in his slowly, then ran his finger over the Band-Aid on my arm.   “It stopped bleeding.”
    “Yeah.”   I pulled my arm away from him, uncomfortable at the closeness between
us.   “It’s fine.”
    I pushed past him ., needing to get away from his closeness.   But there was nowhere to go except for the bed, and I didn’t really want
to be in bed with him in the room.
    But he saved me from that awkwardness by
turning around and walking toward the door.
    At the last moment, he turned and looked at
me.   “If you’re going to stay here,
you have to promise to stop cutting yourself.”
    “I’m only going to be here for one night,” I
said.
    “No, you’re not.”
    “Oh, really?” I laughed.   “Are you moving me in?”
    “Perhaps.”
    “I really don’t think my family would
approve.”  
    “Olivia,” he said.   “I know you’ve been staying at the
Walnut Street shelter.   I’ve called
and arranged for your things to be brought here.”   He said it matter-of-factly, devoid of
pity or sympathy.
    “What?” I scoffed.   “You don’t know what you’re talking
about.”   My voice didn’t shake.   It didn’t break.   I was a good liar.   You have to be when your whole existence
depends on it.
    “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter ,”
he said.   “I know where you’ve been
staying.”
    “How did you – ”
    He held his hand up.   “We’ll get to that.   But first, I have a business proposition
for you.”
    END OF BOOK ONE

 
 
    Addicted
To Him (Obsessed With Him, Book Two)
    By Hannah Ford
    Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights
reserved.   This book is a work of
fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
    ***

 
    “A business proposition?” I repeated.   “Why would I want to get into business
with you?”
    Colt grinned.   “You seemed like you wanted to get into
business with me earlier.”
    “Earlier?”
    “When you were dancing for me.”  
    I swallowed, remembering the way it had felt,
unbuttoning my shirt for him, the way his hands guided my hips, how heady the
lust was that I’d felt, how uncontrollable.   How
close I came to breaking my promise to Declan.
    “That was different,” I said.   “That was a job.”   We were both still standing up, and I
wanted to sit down, but doing that seemed like some kind of   admission .   An admission that I wanted to be here,
that Colt had some kind of power over me.
    “And how is a job different than getting into
business with me?” he countered.   His t-shirt stretched against his broad chest and across his huge
shoulders.   Even in just a t-shirt
and sweatpants, you could tell how built he was, how strong, how chiseled.   
    The pull I felt toward him was intoxicating,
and also frightening.   I didn’t know
anything about this man -- except that he ran a strip club.   Strike one.   He apparently