“How bad is this, Ben? And please don’t lie to me.”
I take her hand in mine when she sets her phone on the bed. “I won’t lie to you, Sierra. I will tell you anything you need to know, but is this really what you want to discuss now?” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m not deflecting. You’ve been through a lot today. Let’s just sleep, and when you and Rowan are settled into the house tomorrow, we can talk.”
She nods slowly. “I thought I could keep myself removed from what you do, but I realize now how stupid and naïve that was.”
“I understand, and honestly, I would rather you didn’t know too much, but shielding you by keeping you in the dark was a foolish plan. You don’t need to know everything, but you need to know enough to understand the risks. Maybe if I had told you about the Russian threat and what has happened in Vegas, you might have been more suspicious, and you might have guessed what Lucille was up to.”
“It’s doubtful,” she says, “but knowledge is power, and I can’t protect myself and Rowan if I don’t know the basics.”
“I agree.”
She smiles. “Look how far we have come.”
I lean in and kiss her, just because I feel like it. This kiss is tender, unlike any kiss we have shared before, but I can’t be rough with her today. Not after the things she has endured. “Hold that thought,” I whisper over her lips. “I need to grab a shower.” I stand, battling a yawn.
“Esme and Pen are going to my house tomorrow to pack up more of our stuff,” she says, her eyes widening as I remove my dress shirt. Her eyes follow a path from my shoulders, down over my chest, and along my abs. Two rosy dots stain her cheeks as her eyes latch on to the line of dark hair leading into my pants and the obvious swelling of my cock behind my zipper.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something dirty, but I won’t make tonight about sex. Clearing my throat, I fight a smirk as she whips her head up to my face, her cheeks staining a darker shade of red. “Just let me know when they are ready, and I’ll send a van to pick everything up,” I say.
“I’m not packing up everything,” she supplies. “And I’m not saying this is a permanent arrangement either.”
“Whatever you say.” I let my smirk loose. She can act delusional if she wants. I’ll give her that tonight.
She purses her lips and narrows her eyes. “I thought you were taking a shower.”
“In a rush to get rid of me now?” I ask, removing my belt and unbuttoning my pants. I let them fall to my feet, enjoying the shocked gasp that escapes her lush lips.
“I’m tired,” she blurts, working hard to avoid ogling me as I finish removing my pants, standing before her in tight black boxers that do nothing to hide my semi.
“I won’t be long,” I say, shoving my boxers down my legs before taking them off and scooping up my clothes.
A red flush creeps up her neck and onto her face as I walk off, flashing my bare ass at her. I would love nothing more than to bury myself balls deep inside her tonight, but I won’t push her into anything until she is fully in control of her faculties and I know she wants me as much as I want her.
All I know with surety is that I’m done fighting my feelings for her. I can’t deny it any longer, and after today, I don’t want to. I nearly lost her, and it has put a lot of things into perspective for me. Allowing myself to go there might make me weak, but I no longer have a choice.
Sierra might believe my suggestion of marriage is one of convenience, but I’m about to show her that is very far from the truth.
34
BEN
I take the quickest shower known to mankind, careful not to get my hair wet, and I brush my teeth before pulling on sleep pants and exiting the bathroom. I usually sleep in the nude, but I don’t trust myself to get into bed naked with Sierra. My lust for her is at an all-time high. Combined with the fact I haven’t gotten laid in months, I doubt I could stop my dick from driving inside her. I don’t want her thinking I would take advantage of the situation.
When we fuck, I want it to be consensual and because we can’t keep our hands off one another.
Sierra is lying on her back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The only illumination in the room is from the lamps on the bedside tables by my king-sized bed. Rolling back the thick comforter, I climb into the bed, moving closer to her but still maintaining a distance. Today has been stressful, and while I don’t like reminding her, I need to ensure she is okay. I cough, and she tilts her head in my direction. “You killed someone today. I know that’s a big deal. How are you coping?” I vividly recall my first kill and remember how it had a profound effect on me.
“Honestly?” She stares me dead in the eye. “I’m glad I killed that fucker. He would’ve killed me and not lost any sleep over it, so I’m going to do the same.”
That is most likely true. The man was a member of the Bratva and probably an experienced killer. I know from personal experience how it becomes routine after a while. But Sierra is an innocent, and it may come back to haunt her. I hope it doesn’t because that bastard deserved to die, and she’s probably done the world a favor by wiping him from existence.
She turns onto her side, and her blonde hair cascades around her face like a golden halo. She doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on, and she looks beautiful. Even the line of paper stitches on her cheek can’t detract from her natural beauty.
“What?” she whispers, noticing my singular attention.
“I don’t think you realize how truly beautiful you are.” I touch my fingers to her uninjured cheek. “You are gorgeous, Sierra. Inside and out.”
She takes my hand, bringing it to her lips. Fiery tingles zip up and down my arm when she sweeps her lips across my knuckles. “I used to dream about you saying that to me.”
I chuckle. “That doesn’t shock or surprise me. I knew you had a little crush on me, Firefly.”
“Trust me, there was nothing little about it.” She takes my hand, holding it to her chest. She’s wearing a silk and lace black camisole sleep top, that does nothing to disguise the creamy swell of her breasts, over matching black silk pants. Her heart thuds powerfully underneath our conjoined hands, and the strong rhythm reminds me of how resilient she is. She fought and killed a man today. I don’t know a lot of men, let alone women, who would have fought and won in her situation.
She stares deep into my eyes, and I could stare at her stunning face all day long. But it’s the raw emotion shimmering in her eyes that has snared my attention, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.
“I’ve heard it said that your life flashes before your eyes in a near-death situation,” she adds, her voice quaking a little. “But that didn’t happen to me. I was too busy fighting to survive. It was only afterwards, when I knew Rowan was safe and you were on your way, that it hit me like that.” Her chest heaves, and she lowers my arm to my side. I move closer, placing one hand lightly on her hip, drawing her nearer.
We maintain eye contact the entire time, and I don’t interrupt or coax her into continuing, happy to wait patiently for her to explain. “I realized if I had died today I would have regrets. Things I hadn’t said to you that need to be said.” She lifts her hand, tracing her fingers along the stubble on my chin and cheeks. Tears well in her eyes as she looks at me. “I’m sorry I kept Rowan from you, Ben. I see how amazing you are with him and how much he already loves you, and I hate that I deprived you of that.”