Unbind by Sarah Michelle Lynch Read Free Book Online Page A

Christ! I was wondering more and more why I’d left my native land behind.
    Wobbling with my double in hand as I went back to Kincaid, I spotted his hand shaking as he lifted his glass to his lips—and I wondered. Who was this guy?
    I’d barely eaten all day so maybe I wasn’t thinking 100 per cent clearly. I’d been a nervous wreck for most of it. Now, I was drunk almost. On one drink. And my second was a double. Great!
    I felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding. Like something terrible was going to go wrong for me if I wasn’t wary of Kincaid. Something about him had my senses tingling with suspicion. Trepidation. Wonder. Intrigue, even. Most guys would have asked for my number by now, might have tried to give me a kiss, and most certainly would have arranged a date at a restaurant, not a drink in the office local.
    When I got back and plonked myself on the stool once more, I joked, “This is my last otherwise I’ll have to take out another credit card just for booze!”
    His smiling eyes hid his strain well, though his fiddling hands didn’t. “You guys all sound Australian to me but I’m guessing you’re not from London?”
    How cute, I laughed to myself.
    “Hmm, no. Where I’m from you can still get a pint for less than two quid. I used to work for a local, regional rag in Sheffield where I spewed essays worthy of doctorates. Maybe nobody ever read any of it… all I know is the pieces filled space. It paid the bills but I don’t remember the last time I took a holiday, or went on a real splurge of a shopping spree, you know? In this country you don’t get dealt a good hand in journalism without a break. It’s the toughest place in the world to be a professional writer… trust me, I know.”
    He sipped some beer without his hand shaking, so perhaps my talking had relaxed him. “Some of those guys back at the stead… they kinda have sticks up their asses, don’t they?”
    “Oh, god yeah!” You took the words out of my mouth . I laughed. “They clearly work hard but they love it. I know the type… I am the type.”
    I laughed and was tipsy enough by then to reach out and touch his knee. That was conservative. I wasn’t loathe to befriend anyone who’d listen, so long as they were willing to put up with my foul mouth and liking for the occasional heavy drinking session.
    However, he flinched at my touch. His bulk visibly recoiled… it wasn’t as if he could hide himself. He looked away and tried to cover his reaction but I felt so offended, hurt. Mainly because I liked him. Yet, a warning bell reminded me he was younger—despite seeming older. I knew I should be the administrator of this little social occasion so I stroked his fingers with mine and soothed him, “It’s okay. Whatever it is. I’m just friendly. It’s how I am.”
    “I’m not being a dick… I just… have problems with physical contact.”
    Alarm bells! I should’ve dashed out of there right then. Made my apologies and left him to his wealthy, privileged lifestyle. When I thought about it, it was like he had been stalking me all day.
    What happened next stunned the life out of me.
    He moved forward with catlike speed and with the gentlest of touches, he kissed my cheek. His stubble bristled against my skin and I judged the faintest smile mingled with his kiss. With that one brush of his lips, I envisaged us making love. I ached for him to kiss my mouth, to give me a taste of him to keep me going through the night.
    When he bloody pulled away and ran his hand through my hair, he gave me a longing look that made me rub my thighs together.
    “I’m sorry but I gotta go. Sorry.”
    Then he left! His Stella mostly left intact on the table!
    I thought, sod it . I drank my drink, then the rest of his, and started walking.
    I got back to Kayla’s place on Portobello Road and groaned when I finally got my shoes off.
    I found a note on her fridge: Gone for the night. Don’t wait up!
    Part of the reason why Kayla was letting me