would it be enough to give him the edge over his feisty captor?
He glanced through the narrow gap between the curtains of the front window and spotted Nicki’s Jeep pulling into the gravel driveway outside the cabin. She pulled to a stop and cut the engine, but she didn’t get out right away.
What was she doing?
A minute ticked by. Then two. Dallas’s legs began to ache again from the stillness of waiting.
When the Jeep door opened and she got out and turned toward the cabin, he pulled back from the window and took up a position against the wall by the door. When she entered, the door would hide him until it was too late to prepare herself for his ambush.
At least, that’s what he hoped.
Her footsteps ascended the wooden steps of the porch slowly. Deliberately. Inside Dallas’s chest, his heart took a couple of hard leaps into a higher gear. He braced himself with a deep breath, preparing his limbs for action. He was still weaker than he liked, but his size and the factor of surprise would give him an edge.
He heard the rattle of keys in the door and pressed himself flat against the wall.
The door swung open with a creak of the hinges, and her boots hit the landing with a thud. He heard a soft huff of air escape her lungs as she stepped into the cabin and started to close the door behind her.
He hit her hard and fast, shoving her to the floor beneath him. Her soft cry of shock gave him the briefest moment of triumph, before his body landed flush against hers, his hips driving hers into the hard floor.
She started to struggle, her thighs opening as she kicked her legs toward him. The movement settled his hips more firmly into the cradle between her thighs, and, for a moment, he couldn’t think. Couldn’t come up with a single rational thought. All he could do was feel. The heat of her body under his. The softness of her curves, how perfectly they seemed to mold to his own lean hardness, welcoming him as if their bodies had been fashioned by a master craftsman to fit together in seamless perfection.
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