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“People ‘round here don’t normally do that.”
“Not from around here,” she replies quickly. Her nostrils expand as she inhales, but anytime I move to a different item on one of the shelves, her breathing changes. Heavier, more sporadic.
“Where are you from?”
“Nowhere. Came here for school and med school.”
“No shit.” The rope is within my reach but I choose the slim leather riding crop and hold it at my side. “Didn’t peg you for a Doc.”
“N-not a doctor,” she quips as she steadies her breathing, the word peg made her blink a few extra times. She had been doing so good with the stuttering, like someone who had trained to keep it at bay.
“Where did you meet my mother?” I use the crop to point toward the hallway. “I saw your picture on the wall.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Turns out, I have some time tonight. Until Mom comes back anyway.” Using my other hand to slide the vitrine closed again, I slap the crop against my boot, cutting the air with the sound.
She jumps, of course, because she’s frightened of me. I’d be too if I heard the stories my mother told. Mom thought creating a villain would save me.
“I was just on my way out. I have a second job.”
I smirk and shake my head.She’s a shit liar.“No.”
The Little Thief chomps down on her bottom lip and locates the phone near the router.
Another shake of my head. “Not wise.”
She reaches for it anyway. I allow her to fumble around with the unlock keys, then bring the riding crop down on the lit up screen, not at all gently.
SWOOSH. THUD!The phone crashes to the floor, and to my dismay, remains intact.
With a fixated gaze, she glares at the ground.
“You’re smarter than that, Doc.”
Flicking her gaze to me lasts only a moment, enough to provide evidence that she’s capable of understanding. The contemplation, however, is ongoing. She balances on those five-inch heels, as if she’s about to kick them off and make a run for it. Not that bright for a potential doctor.
“That was a warning, in case you didn’t understand.” I step forward and get in her face. Making two syllables out of one, I whisper right at the entrance of her lips. “Don’t.”
The threat shifts her entire posture, giving me the space I need to stomp the cell into pieces.
Her warm breath hits my lips. “You son—”
Suddenly, she halts as the leather grazes across her supple skin.
Stop,I command without a single word.
Running the instrument from her shoulder down to her trembling fingers causes a shiver. Hers, mostly. Those irises land on me, and hold me in place. Whether she’s turned on by the proximity, the hide, or the leather, I’m unsure, but there’s something else between the margins of her lips.
Something that fucks with me.
Something that drags me into her orbit.
In the moment of hesitance, I step forward again, trapping her within her fleeting thoughts. My arm wraps around her voluptuous waist and I walk her back to the Suspiro Room, away from the any incoming visitors. Bold for a stranger, dangerous for a victim.
But I don’t give a flying shit.
She gasps at the closeness, at the obstruction of her space. The tiniest squeal escapes her lightly coated, glistening lips. There’s a hum there, a breathyum. Volatile and explosive, capable of reacting with the oxygen in the air and setting this whole place on fire.
