Jhene’s perched in my bed, knees pulled up to her chest. She’s awake. She’s… been waiting for me.
Our gazes meet in the dark, though neither of us say a word. We let the loud silence stretch on, aided only by the trickle of downpour outside.
I look away, tossing my keys on the kitchen table and sliding out of my boots. A shower’s in order. I’ve got other men’s blood on me (a common occurrence in my world).
Jhene’s watching every move I make. I feel it in the dark. Her eyes tracking me.
“You’re back,” she murmurs finally.
“Told you I would be,” I answer in a tone as low as hers. I peel off my ruined T-shirt and cast it aside. “I’ve told you not to wait up for me.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She shifts in place, arms linked around her knees. “It’s kind of sort of hard knowing you were out there. Not knowing if you’d…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. I get what she means. That she was worried about me.
I cross the room a slow step at a time. A sign of the uncertainty of the moment.
Truth be told, I’m not sure if I’m about to jump in the shower or head out to the Rialto or hit the streets looking for trouble.
I’ve got to do anything but give into the draw. ThepullI feel toward this girl.
It’s already started as I close some of the distance between us and the adrenaline in my veins thrums even harder than it had tonight at the Vodka Room.
Equal parts hyperawareness and attraction.
Every move she makes I’m aware of. It begins to feel like a dance, like we’re moving toward the inevitable.
Jhene slides off the bed as I approach. She stands in front of me with her arms at her sides and her large glasses reflecting in the dark thanks to the sliver of light from the window.
We’re close now. Close enough that I can make out even the smallest detail about her.
She’s got that damned white tank top on, the fabric so thin it’s damn near impossible not to notice how her nipples peek through. Even in the dark, I can tell.
Her brows are drawn, worry etched onto her features. Tension lives in her shoulders as she peers up at me as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I realize I’m doing the same.
I’m so fucking lost, yet I can’t stop myself fromstepping toward her.
She’s just a stray. Some girl who’s fallen into trouble, and who I’ve decided to protect due to months of tension with the Bratva.
But as rain taps on the window and we stand close, she gives a nervous quake. I realize I feel it too.
There’s no lying or pretending anymore.
Jhene Prince is more than a stray I’ve taken in. She’s the woman I want to protect. Fight for.
Prove to that she’s worth those things and more.
I want to be the one who rights the wrongs in her world.
I’m not sure what the hell we’re doing hovering so close together in the dark. Jhene seems equally as uncertain ’til she finally works up the nerve.
For a second time in the last twelve hours, she reaches up and kisses me.
Less cautiously than earlier. More boldly and confidently, as if she’s made up her mind and she’s not second-guessing it anymore.
I let her take the lead, following where she takes us. Her hands slide up my chest and then neck and wind up in my wet hair.
