Page 115 of 4 Corinthians

I tossed my purse into the car and turned to face him. “Wednesday, would you like for me to threaten you?” I asked, tilting my head to the left. “Because if you do, then I can tell you right now that I won't. This thing between you and my sister, it’s not my business unless she comes to me crying.” I got in my car, pressed the push-to-start, closed the door, then rolled down the window.

“Cross threatened me,” he replied with a smile. “Exodus, Judge, and Krude warned me.” He used his right hand to block the sun from hitting his eyes as he talked to me. “You’re telling me as her big sister you won't do either?”

“Nope,” I answered, shaking my head.

“Why not?”

“Because she hasn’t cried yet,” I told him. “The last man who did, mourned his entire family, and we sat in the back of the funeral watching.”

I put my car in drive and pulled off, leaving Wednesday in the parking lot to think about what I’d said. I didn’t believe in threats, not when it came to the people I loved. I got to the end of the parking lot, pulled up the location Uri sent me, and followed it. His office was less than ten minutes from Psalms' shop, which meant it was five from my shop.

“Hello?” I answered my phone as I pulled into the parking lot.

“Don’t park in the lot; drive down to the garage. They will let you through. Park on the third level, next to my car,” Uri instructed.

“Okay,” I said, then hung up.

I did what he said; once my car was parked, I looked around. There was only Uri’s car and two others on this level. I got out of my Jeep, grabbed my purse, and then walked towards the elevator. I tried calling Uri back, but he didn’t answer. Instead of worrying about it, I pressed the elevator call button and waited. I had no idea where I was going, but common sense told me to check in with the receptionist.

The elevator doors opened, and Uri stood there, dressed in a tan suit, black button-down, black tie, and matching shoes. He looked good as hell.

“Hey,” he greeted me with a smirk, then put his hand out. I willingly took it and stepped onto the elevator.

My free hand went to his chest, and I looked up at him. The second I touched him, his bracelet started to beep. I put my hand over his heart; its rhythm matched the bracelet's sound. “Hi,” I replied. “I tried calling you.”

“I-I-I-I-I-I-I left mm-m-m-m-m-m-my phone o-o-o-o-o-o-n my des-de-de-de-de-desk,” he said, then licked his lips. “I was coming to you.”

“Okay.” I watched as he licked his lips again. His tongue moved slowly, and damn it if I didn’t want to taste it. Typically, Uri was the aggressor with us, but today I wanted to be the aggressor. I lifted to my tiptoes and nibbled on his bottom lip.

“C-c-c-c-c-cori.”

“Hmmm?” I replied as I kissed under his chin. His beard was starting to thicken, and I loved the feel of it on my skin. Uri let go of my hand and held on to my waist. I nipped at his Adam’s apple, and I felt him shiver. That was the biggest turn-on I’d ever experienced in my life. He stuttered my name again, and I smiled. “Yes, Uri?”

“We ain’t gonna make it to lunch if you keep this up,” he told me. I laughed and stepped back. His eyes were dark, his breathing deep, and I could tell this look of barely hanging on was different than the other.

“Would that be a bad thing?” I asked. I don’t know why the urge to do more was so strong, but it was. But I was also scared. That wasn’t something I could easily get over because I was horny. That would take time. Even though Uri was a patient man, I wasn’t dumb enough to think he wouldn’t have questions, especially when he saw the brand on my stomach. That was a conversation I wasn’t ready for.

He wiped his hand over his mouth and nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, and my brow went up. “I got something special planned for you. My hard dick can't be the head I’m thinking with when I’m trying to show you this shit ain’t a mistake.”

“Uri,” I sighed and shook my head. I hated that I used that word to describe what we were doing.

“It’s cool.”

The elevator door opened, and he let go of my waist, took my hand, and guided me off and onto the rooftop. There was a table set up in the middle of the rooftop with covered plates waiting for us. Uri helped me with my seat, kissed my cheek, then rounded the table and sat down.

“You planned this in the short time it took me to get here?” I asked.

“No,” he answered. “I already h-h-h-h-h-h-had it planned. I was j-j-j-j-j-j-j-just going to bring it to y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-your shop, but s-s-s-s-s-since you said you-u-u-u-u-u-u would come he-e-e-e-e-e-ere, I pivoted to this.” He looked around before bringing his eyes back to me. “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

He smiled, reached across the table, and lifted the cover to show me my plate. I laughed so hard that tears filled my eyes. The other night I told him that even though I enjoyed dressing up and going out to fancy dinners, I preferred to eat a greasy bacon cheeseburger with the works, some fries, and drink a milkshake. Seeing that exact meal sitting in front of me was beyond perfect.

“You remembered, huh?” I asked once I got myself together.

“I remember e-e-e-e-e-e-e-everything,” he answered with a shrug. “Now eat before your food gets cold.”

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