He touched me for fuck's sake. It's not like I went around grabbing him by the crotch, asking him how many ladies he's slept with. I bet a lot if I was just guessing. No one as sexy as Ivan could go too long without wanting and finding companionship. His looks alone would attract women but he's got that whole lonely cowboy vibe about him that just seals the deal. No wonder Jenny wanted him over.
I find a book in English that looks pretty interesting. It's got a lot of spy stuff going on and some mystery too but I can't stay focused on what I'm reading. It doesn't help that after everything that happened today when I was with Ivan before I didn't feel alone but now I do. Now I'm lonelier than ever.
I finally give up on reading and lay looking at the ceiling until I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know I'm being shook awake by Sir. Ill-will himself. He doesn't even let me sit all the way up before he's turning again.
"We have to go." He types something in on his computer and the screen dies.
"What? Why?" I don't understand what is happening.
"We have to leave now! Someone working with Roberts on the case is dirty and they know where we are."
"What? How?"
"Because I gave a statement to Roberts saying I was there and the first thing they ask is your name and address. They know who got you out."
This makes the second time tonight that I drifted off thinking everything was going to be okay, that I was safe, only to wake up and find out I might be killed if I don't move my ass quick enough. Maybe I should just not go to sleep ever again. I realize that's not realistic but at some point, I'm going to start equating sleep to being threatened if something doesn't change. Ivan reaches under the bed and pulls out a black backpack. He unzips it and pulls out a phone that he slips in his pocket.
He takes the one he's been using and breaks it. I've never seen someone break a phone. He doesn't even blink; he just smashes it against the corner of the desk. It's the first time I realize I left my phone at my apartment. He slides his laptop in the bag and takes my hand.
"My shoes." He looks back at me like he can't believe I am not ready to go. "I'm sorry I'm not used to having to wake up and run in the blink of an eye."
I know how testy I sound, how bitchy. I should be thankful that he's not just leaving me behind. The way he's going about the place so coldly I really should be grateful he didn't slip out while I was sleeping, leaving me to deal with the men coming for us. I find my shoes and slide them on my feet. He takes my hand again. I have to tell my body that he's not holding my hand, he's just being pushy about telling me where to go and at what speed. It's not like him wrapping his fingers around mine should matter, or send my pulse soaring to heights that probably isn't safe. It has more to do with him being my only lifeline.
We go down the stairwell but when we're at the bottom floor he doesn't go out the front door of the building. He keeps going down into the basement. Down under the apartments and lofts is a laundry room. Ivan hits the door with his hand and saunters in. He is completely in control of himself and his surroundings. He is in his element. God I wish I could be in my element and something more than dead weight bringing him down.
He goes to dryer after dryer until he finally opens one and starts pulling clothes out. Going through different articles of clothing, it quickly becomes clear that these are not Ivan's clothes. Not unless the big Russian is hiding something from me. I pick up a pair of tiny pink silk panties that are stringy and raise my eyebrow at him.
"Um, these are not yours. Are they?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Pink isn't my color." Shocking, a joke in all the drama. My lips turn up and even being chased I find the humor with him. "These are Jenny's."
Jealousy burns through me, hot and fierce. How the hell does he know they are Jenny's things? I didn't really get a vibe off of the two of them that they were together but who can tell. Maybe it was a one-time thing for Ivan and she wants more. Ivan doesn't look like the type of guy that has long term relationships with anyone.
"I recognize her shirts and she's about the same size you are. That and she's lazy as hell leaving her clothes down here for days without getting them. Here," he sticks his arm out, holding a pair of jeans and a shirt in his hand.
"I can't take someone else's clothes."
He comes closer to me causing me to back up until my back hits the table in the middle of the room. "You can and you will. You can't go around dressed like this."
"Fine, I'll change." He is back at the dryer going through more clothes. He holds up a silk cupped bra and I feel his eyes drift down to my very well endowed bosom. There was no way the girls are going to fit in that. A blush hits my cheeks because in the thin material of my top he can see that my nipples have pebbled up hard when he looks at me.
"If we really are in a hurry, turn the fuck around so I can get dressed." I wait for him to turn before I pull the shirt down over the top I have on and then pull the two sets of strings that keep it on me. I yank it out from under my shirt and lay it on the table. Ivan takes it and shoves it in his bag. I yank the pants up without taking my shorts off. It just isn't right wearing someone else's clothes without anything underneath. I'm just buttoning the top when we hear voices outside the door.
"Shit," Ivan shoves the clothes back in the dryer and turns to me taking me by the hips and lifting me on top of the table. He pushes my thighs apart and steps in between my legs as he brings his face down into the crook of my neck.
Before I can ask what the hell he is thinking a man and woman come through the door causing me to stiffen up. Both of them stop dead and look at me. I must look guilty as hell because the man's mouth starts turning up into a grin and when he looks at the woman she blushes and slaps at his arm.
"Act natural, kitten." Natural, nothing about this is natural to me. "And stop being so stiff, you act like I'm trying to assault you rather than cuddle."
He bites down on my shoulder and I cry out just enough to send the lady into a titter of giggles. Bastard.
I drop my voice lower into a vicious whisper, "I thought we were in a hurry."
"We are but we also don't want to call attention to ourselves." He moves his lips up my neck until he's by my ear. "No one is going to think to say anything about two people making out in the laundry room if they are asked about suspicious people but if we were just standing or we left just as they got here they would start to suspect enough that they would say something to someone wanting to 'check it out'."
He reads my look, "Everyone does it."
Really? Everyone makes out in the laundry room. What the hell have I been missing?