Again, he seemed to know the best ways around the patrollers and their routes. But then, he’d walked these streets for years, probably knew by heart every step the patrollers took. Felice’s heart was still thumping strangely. No one, but no one had been this protective of her, this caring, in years. Whenever an indentured worker got hurt, they were taken to a medic, true, but only so they could be patched up as quickly as possible and sent back to work. For all his hard words, Kieran wanted to help her, and not because she could give him anything in return. Felice hadn’t given him a damn thing so far, yet he’d fed her, clothed her, protected her, pleasured her. Felice squeezed his hand. Kieran was large and strong, and could be frightening, but her affection for him was increasing every moment. Kieran looked down at her at the squeeze, and then one of those sinful Shareem smiles spread across his face. Felice wanted to melt right here in the street, his smile hotter than the desert sun.
What do You think about Kieran (Tales Of The Shareem)?
