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“Who is Petrov to you?” he repeated, knowing he wasn’t coming close to wearing her down. He was, however, confirming Razor’s theory, just based on her lack of reaction.
—:—
Inside, Raketa was trembling with a combination of fear and uncertainty. When Gunner walked closer, she wasn’t sure what he intended to do. Part of her still believed he wouldn’t strike her, but without another wall in close enough proximity, maybe she should consider the possibility that he would.
She didn’t flinch when he raised his arm and stroked the side of her face with his finger. Her eyes met his, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.
“Rocket Girl,” he murmured. “Why can’t you just tell me the truth? Why can’t you believe I want to help you?”
Of everything he’d said, yelled, or demanded of her, that statement affected her the most. She bit down on her tongue as her stupid eyes filled with tears. When she tried to move away from him, Gunner wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
She rested against his chest.
Gunner brought his lips to hers. “I need you to know something.”
Raketa nodded.
“Whatever happens between us…physically, has nothing to do with the questions I’m asking you. Do you understand what I mean?”
She nodded a second time.
“Look at me.”
Raketa raised her head.
“I want you, Rocket Girl, naked and in my bed, but more than that, I want to know you understand that this is separate.”
His eyes bored into hers as though he was waiting for her to tell him she did. Part of her did, but the other part couldn’t trust him. No one had her trust, and she doubted anyone ever would—even Gunner Godet.
—:—
He could physically feel her hesitancy and wished he had the words to convince her to talk to him. Even if she didn’t answer a single of his questions, he still wanted to hear her voice.
Instead of waiting any longer, Gunner covered her mouth with his, pushing his tongue inside, and making it impossible for her to speak.
What she said with her lips and her tongue, though, told him what he needed to know for now. When she pressed her body against his, he released the grip he had on her, picked her up, and carried her to his bedroom.
“Tell me you want this,” he said before crossing over the threshold.
Raketa nodded.
“Not good enough, Rocket Girl. I need to hear the words. Tell me you want this. Tell me you understand that what is about to happen doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Petrov, United Russia, K19, or anything else that is happening outside the walls of this room.”
“I understand.”
Gunner still didn’t move. That wasn’t enough. He needed to hear the rest.
“I want this,” she whispered.
He walked over to the bed and rested her body on it. “Lean back for me.” Gunner hovered over her, making sure her eyes stayed focused on him.
With one arm resting on his elbow, he unfastened the buttons on her shirt with the other. It was one of many he’d picked out for her when his sister, who owned a women’s clothing boutique, sent him an email with options for the woman he’d described to her.
“She’s probably a size zero, three at the most, the way you’ve described her. I’ll send a mix of both sizes.”
He’d thanked her and had agreed to tell her more as soon as he could. She was used to that line both from him and their father who had retired as a four-star general.
“Look at you,” he murmured when he unfastened the last button and opened her shirt, exposing the soft skin of her belly and the pale pink of the bra his sister had also sent.
