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“You might like it, but I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Can I watch?” he asks, waggling his brows as I push myself off his chest and my feet touch the carpet. I shove his face away and he lets me while he turns on his side and watches me, a naughty grin turning up the corner of his mouth.
“You can use the one in here.” He motions to his bathroom.
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll go downstairs and get some water.”
“Bring me some too,” he says, licking his lips as his eyes roam over my naked legs.
I nod, leaving him alone and tiptoeing down the hall and the stairs. Cat runs down the steps with me, tagging along. I didn’t need to go to the bathroom. I needed to get some space from the man. I place my hand on my heart and stop in my tracks. I can’t fall for him. Not now, not ever. Not when it can get me in more trouble, like going all in and losing my heart in the end.
Summer
I grab my second phone from the bottom drawer of the nightstand and turn on the camera app. She doesn’t know I was watching her the whole time I was gone. I didn’t in the bathroom, I’m not a total psycho… okay, maybe I am. I needed to make sure she wasn’t setting my house on fire for taking her against her will. Even Cat jumped off the bed when she left. Why does my bed feel empty already without her in it?
“Damn,” I swear under my breath and settle back against the cushions while I watch her peer into the fridge, now stocked with more food. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Who falls for someone in twenty-four hours? No one. Not me, not ever. I promised the guys we’d focus on work, our team getting ahead in the business and leaving everyone behind, and now I can see myself easily taking a step back if it means I can keep her.
I drop the phone when she grabs a glass of water and looks out over the river. My shirt looks good on her. I grin, I like it better off, but what the hell, I’ll give her this before I tear it off her again. I scrub both my hands over my face. She was right, this house is empty, I think, scanning the room. It has been for years. I filled it up with work, with expensive suits, with meaningless things. Everything is so white in here. An image of her colorful art hanging on the walls flashes through my mind, and I push it away. Chris had someone once, but she fucked him over for a rich asshole and left him. He was devastated. He didn’t leave his place for weeks; it took me six bottles of whiskey and some chicken to get him out of the house. We might have abducted him into the mountains but whatever.
I grab my phone to watch her some more. Her toes curl a little while she walks around my apartment and stares to look at the black and white art I have hanging on my wall. It’s cute, then again, anything she does is cute. My phone rings and I scan the incoming text from Chris.
Took the trash out, she’s clear.
I type, thank you.
No problem, brother is his response. I made sure to burn his clubs to the proverbial ground. He lost all his licenses, and his father is going away for years for a tax evasion scandal that should have taken him down a long time ago. Now she’s truly free, but still my prisoner.
She walks back into the room and hands me a water while I put the phone back in the bottom drawer. “Thank you,” I say, watching as she takes a seat on the bed.
I sit up too and scoot over to her, so we are side by side. Her feet are dangling above the floor, almost touching the carpet. I throw back the drink and place the empty glass on the nightstand. I pull my dress shirt down her shoulders and watch as her breathing intensifies from my touch alone.
“Your skin is beautiful,” I tell her, kissing her back and down her spine as the fabric slips from her body. All untouched and creamy soft. I place my palm on her stomach and love the feeling of her skin against my calloused hand. “Your pussy is just as soft,” I whisper in her ear as I lean my front against her back. “I love how tight you are. How you were milking my cock, how you closed your eyes while I fucked you. You know how good you looked lying there under me while I took you there?”
She moans while my hand finds her left nipple and she presses her breast against my outstretched hand.
She turns her head. “Why didn’t you fuck me like those other women you had before, or make me drop to my knees?”
I frown, the other women meant nothing. They are already a distant memory; I can’t even recall their faces now I think about it. “Trust me, kitten, I’d love it if you gave me a blowjob, but I wanted to taste you first,” I tell her, waggling my brows.
“You said you didn’t let anyone touch you, is it because of your…”
“My scars?” I finish for her. “It scares people to look at my face.” I grimace. “I can’t properly smile with the scar next to my mouth,” I tell her, running my fingers over the ridges.
“What happened?” she asks, not breaking eye contact.
In this moment, it feels like she sees me for the whole person I am. “Some I got at home before I moved to Seoul at fourteen. I started working for an underground diamond dealer, which quickly changed into money lending. I took over when he died, when I was eighteen, and met the guys while I was working on the streets. Some I’d met already down South when I was younger and was selling counterfeit shit. We fought, and there were times when I didn’t think we would make it, but each of us brings something different to the table. My anger was sometimes difficult to rein in, and there were moments when I wanted to kill them.” I chuckle. “We got over it, maybe because of my best friend, Han, burying a knife in my ribs when I was out of control from drinking too much.”
She gasps, and I wink. “Relax, kitten, they are my blood. We are in this for life. We are never going to give it up, this is it. I like the moonlight and the shadows, while you love the daylight, don’t you?”
She nods, staring out of the windows at the view of the city in the distance. “I do. I mostly paint in the morning or late in the afternoon when the sun is just right. I love it,” she tells me.
I pull her against my chest, and she melts into me. “Did you see the food I got you?”
She chuckles. “I did.”
“You need to eat more, I can’t have you passing out on me. There were times when I didn’t have enough, that’s why…” I tell her, my voice faltering. I know what it is to be poor and not have enough money for food or the bus ride home, so you walk four hours to get back to a house you don’t even want to live in.
“I won’t,” she promises, and flashes me a beautiful smile that has my heart skipping a beat.
