Closer by Sarah Greyson

shirt over his head to stand in front of her in all of his sex-god goodness. She ran her eyes over his perfectly formed six-pack abs and followed the V which led to his holy land; a land she would surely worship. He leaned over and kissed her ever so reverently, paying homage to her body, to her being. He was falling for this smart, courageous, woman he was getting to know. Her earth scent mixed with his musky scent to form an aroma uniquely theirs. He could hear his heart beat in his ears as she lay bare before him, and he still had on his pants. He would remedy that problem really quickly. He left her laying on top of the kitchen table, her body bared to him as he pulled away from her touch, away from her lips and stood. This time he turned slightly around and bent to remove his boots. She devoured the even sexier V his back muscles formed. He made quick work of removing his pants and throwing them on the growing pile of clothes. He was just about to remove his boxer briefs when his cell phone rang. He contemplated not answering. However, as it was probably information he needed to formulate a plan to protect her, he had to get it. If he did his job, and if he kept her safe, he could have her to himself later. He bent down and kissed her hard and quick. Then he went to dig into his pants pocket for his phone.
    Pulling it out, he spoke curtly, “Yeah?” as he walked into the living room.
    She sat up suddenly again feeling deprived, the way she felt after coming last night. How had she come to like him so much, under the circumstances, in so little time? Clearly her head was not in the game. She realized she was led solely by her body. She got off of the table and readjusted her robe. She tightly tied the belt around her waist and sat back down at the bar stool. What was she going to do? She had to come up with a plan . She poured her and Michael a fresh cup of coffee. He sipped at hers and went back into her head.
    He reentered the room in just his boxer briefs, made his way over to the pile of clothing and started dressing. She watched under hooded eyes. Truth be told, she was still wet from the earlier contact. She really should get dressed herself. She made her way off of the bar stool and began to walk past him into the living room to reach the stairs. He grabbed her by the arm and turned her around to face him.
    “Where are you going?” he asked pulling her closer to him.
    “I am going to get dressed. I have been in this robe long enough,” she responded.
    “Just so you know,” he whispered his breath on her lips, “we are nowhere near finished.”
    She shivered at his promise.
    She returned to the living room fully dressed in a new pair of jeans and a turtle-neck sweater, one that hugged all the curves of her body. She sat next to Michael on the couch.
    “That was my employer, the real kidnapper. His name is Ahmed El-Amin, and he has a heavy Algerian accent, so I can only conclude he works for the GIA.” Michael continued, “I am to drop you off at a warehouse in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I told him it is a two-day drive from here. He said he would be there waiting for your arrival. I plan to make the drop.” She looked up at him with a sadness that touched his heart.
    “I am not leaving you with him for God’s sake,” he admonished. “When we get there, I will take him instead. Then I will interrogate him for information about his cell.”
    “You really think you can get him to tell you that type of information? I thought they were all martyrs willing to die for their cause,” she questioned.
    “Who said anything about killing him? I will just make him wish he were dead,” he choked on the laugh which escaped his throat.
    She wondered why he would take such pleasure in hurting another person. “What could possibly be so funny?” she asked.
    “I have a plan. I know exactly what I am going to do to the man who wants to take you from me,” he said.
    Did she just hear him right? Take her from