Sitting in the back of the Uber I called for us after we got a few blocks away from her apartment I can admit right from the start that I was fucked. Getting into her apartment had been the easiest fucking thing in the world for someone like me. It was almost laughable, which pissed me off because how was she safe when she's walking around the city with the kind of honey pot she's got between her legs and security that a five-year-old can hack through.
I probably should have stopped myself when I realized I was scaring the hell out of her, and a better man would have. But I have never been a good man. I am only who I am. Someone who understands how to break in without a whisper of sound to give them away, someone who is really good at things no one should be good at. Killing comes too easy. Seeing her open those brown pools of melted chocolate had registered on some basic animal part of my brain that lost decades of civility, maybe not decades but at least five years worth.
And God save me when she was 'looking' for her shoes, I could have moved the couch with my cock. The outfit riding up the round pale cheeks of her ass until all I could think about was leaving my fingerprints on them in bright pink marks. If she'd spent one more second trying to reach that damned shoe I was going to see a pink poof that had nothing to do with her fucking heels. And then things would have ended very differently. I would have gotten so far in her that when they came in and I killed them all - because I would have to kill them if they saw her naked and taking cock - she would have thought the fucking world was ending.
Something about this woman gets to me and I can't figure out what or how to stop it.
"I don't know your name." She's whispering so the driver doesn't hear us. "I mean you saved me twice, and you clearly have a plan to take me somewhere, and I don't know what to call you."
"Home. I am taking you home." She nods her head like she is agreeing to something, like she has a choice. She no longer does. They took that choice away from her when I found out they were going to keep her alive. She is mine to take care of now. Fuck them. No one touches what is mine.
She doesn't ask me again and after a block of awkward silence I finally give in to her.
"Ivan. My name is Ivan Dragomir."
Her smile stretches across her wide expressive lips and lights the fucking car up. She repeats my name and seeing it fall from her lips has me cumming a little. Hearing it is so much worse.
"Thank you for saving me, Ivan."
We sit in silence again but this time isn't awkward or uncomfortable. I can tell by her eyes that she's thinking about something so I wait. It doesn't take long before she's scooting over even closer to me and leaning towards me to whisper.
"How did they know how to find me but they didn't realize who you were? Or where to find you?"
Damn she's smart. It makes her sexier to me.
"The men who were hired to kill the people at the café were supposed to take some proof showing that not only was the job done but there were no witnesses left behind. They took wallets and purses for the IDs in them. When they were busy going through everybody, one person was missing."
She gasps and her thick lips part in a perfect heart-shaped cavern that would look so good around my cock. Focus Ivan.
"They took my ID. I dropped my purse and because we were being shot at I didn't care or even miss it." Her eyes grow even rounder, "They got my address and knew where to find me but they didn't have yours because you took yours with you." I nod letting her know she is right. I didn't drop my wallet at the scene because it was still in the back pocket of my jeans.
" Ivan, what about my family?" She searches her memory for all of the things she had in her purse.
"I'll call Detective Roberts when we're back at my place and tell him about your family. He already knows I was going after you."
"He does?" Her eyebrows drawdown and her nose scrunches up trying to figure out where to put this latest bit of information.
"I'm helping him with the case." One day maybe I will tell her exactly why I was allowed to help out with this case and what I did that makes me so qualified to hunt for the man who hired men to come in and shoot my café up.
"Ivan," she reaches for my arm and I curse the fucking shirt that keeps her from making contact with my bare skin. "That man back there could have led you straight to the person responsible for all of this. He could have told you who did this."
"That man was already dead the moment he laid eyes on you." No reason to not just lay all of it out on the table for her.
"I knew exactly what he wanted to do to you when he looked at you," her chin comes up in defiance but there's fear in her eyes too. The man scared her with what he wanted to do to her and I shouldn't say anything else but she has to understand what she is dealing with when she is with me, "because for the past several months I've been thinking it too."
For the second time tonight she surprises me. Instead of fear, her eyes light up with a curiosity that can't be good for either one of us. She pulls her lip in between her teeth and every once in a while she'll give me a glance from under her eyelashes sideways. When the car stops at my building I start to worry about how I left my apartment. Wondering if she will like what she sees. It isn't like I took the time to clean up; hell, I barely got the shower shut off before I was out the door.
In the lift neither of us speaks, letting the mechanical clack of the gears and chains fill the silence. I pray we can dodge Jenny. I don't think I have the patience for her right now. I've already killed once tonight, maybe it's like smoking - which I gave up two years ago - once you start back it's hard to quit again. It's probably not going to be safe for Jenny for at least a couple of weeks after I go back on the wagon again.
Once we're inside Kat unzips my jacket and I get the full view of the front of her outfit if you can call it that. I've seen men blow their nose with more material than what she's got on. It dips down so low in the front that with my jacket over her shoulders it looks like she isn't even wearing a top at all. And just who the hell was she wearing it for?
I'm pissed again and this time there's no one around to kill. I yank out the gun I took from the guy and check the clip to see how many are in it before laying it on the nightstand by my bed. I jerk my phone out of my pocket and turn my back on her. I can't keep looking at all that skin and wonder who she was waiting on. She might shoot me in the back but seeing her and knowing she belongs to someone else is torture. Roberts answers on the first ring thank the Lord.
"Did you leave a dead body in the alley?" he kind of sounds like a mom. I have to really try not to laugh. I don't think that will help the shaky truce me and him have going on.
"What?" when all else fails go with a good question of your own.