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He opens his mouth to say a few more things to me, but I punch him over and over and over again. I can feel his blood on my hands, and as I take a step back from him, I can't help but smile as I see the red dripping from his mouth.
Standing over him, I hear him trying to catch his breath. “What the fuck did I do to you?”
I shrug. “Nothing,” I tell him and watch him trying to sit back up.
“Then why are you doing this?”
"Because assholes like you think that you can touch a girl and no one will protect her." I kick him in the face and his blood splats on the bottom of my pants. His hands are flat on the ground as he tries to get back up only this time I kick him in the stomach. Then, sitting on top of him, I begin punching him over and over again. His blood splashes all over my skin and clothing. Jackson places his hand on my shoulder. "Leo, he's done," he tells me as we peer down at him lying lifeless on the floor. "John's here to take you home. Put everything in a bag, and I'll get this all cleaned up."
Standing up, I stare down at him for a final time. I've killed a man that was never on my list; a man that had no information for me. I did it all for Hope, and I will kill every man that ever hurt her. I'll hunt them down, kill them all slowly.
* * *
"Sir, Jackson said to have the clothes in a bag, and he will be over to pick them up."
Giving John a nod, I make my way to the couch. I lean back and close my eyes. I take in a deep breath as I remember the sound of the bastard's bones breaking. I feel something cold on my hand, and I slowly open my eyes to see Hope putting a wet towel on my knuckles.
She starts unfastening my shoes, and when she has pulled them off, she throws them into the bag on the floor. She must have heard John at the door. Sitting up, she wipes the towel over my hand and puts it back in the water she's brought to clean it before placing it on my skin again.
Hope moves between my legs and pulls my shirt out of my pants then she starts unbuttoning it from the bottom. This is the first time that my clothes have been covered in so much blood after a night. I'm usually more put together in these situations but something overtook my body tonight, and I just kept hitting the bastard over and over again.
I stay in my position as I watch Hope, cleaning me up. She stops with my buttons after two, then takes the towel off my hand and gives the other a clean. I quickly use my free hand to grab my cigarette box from the side table and light one up.
She picks up a fresh towel, and I watch her put it in the water, then she gets back to my buttons. I feel the feather-light touch of her fingertips move across my stomach as she continues to unfasten my shirt. When she reaches the last button, she holds her hands there for a moment, before letting the shirt fall open. Her eyes lock on my chest for a moment, she's looking at my scars, my history.
Hope's hand starts to shake as she brings it closer to my chest. Her finger softly traces over one of the scars. Her touch is overtaking my body, and as I close my eyes, she moves to the next scar. I don't let women touch my scars. I don't even show them if I don't have to as their questions are usually stupid, but with Hope, it's not a pain or a reminder of what happened to me. Her touch is making me feel calm, making me forget about what happened. I feel her other hand on my chest, and I inhale deeply.
I take another drag of my cigarette as Hope's touch is soothing to my body and the thrill running through me is a new feeling. I've never let a woman touch me the way Hope is right now. I open my eyes the second I don't feel Hope's hands on me anymore. Why has it affected me?
“You need to take this off.” Her voice is quiet, as her hands move to my shoulders. She leans forward so she can take my shirt and jacket off together. My face is so near to hers that it’s taking all my willpower not to close the remaining space between us.
“You won’t have to worry about him ever again,” I tell her.
I lean back into the couch as Hope puts the clothes into the bag. I watch as she rinses the towel again and takes it out of the water. She slowly turns to face me, twisting the towel in her fingers for a moment. My eyes are locked on her face as I wait to see what she does next. Her head moves up slowly, her gaze stops at my face, but she’s not looking into my eyes. Instead, she brings the towel up to wipe off the blood from my cheek.
I stop her hand and move closer to her. "Look at me Hope," I say in a whisper. With my other hand I place my finger under her chin and tilt it, so she looks at me, it takes a few seconds before her eyes meet mine.
The sound of her rapid breathing is filling me with a fierce desire to touch her more. "Hope..." All the power in my body is being pulled towards her. "I want to kiss you." I move my thumb slowly across her cheek. "Can I kiss you?" I want her to know that I won't take anything from her unless she wants me to. I won't push myself on her, and I won't force anything on her.
Her head nods in the smallest movement, but that's all the answer I need. Moving closer to her, my lips touch hers as light as a feather, and a weak gasp escapes her. Just the taste of her lips, I want more, Ineedmore. I slip my hand to the back of her neck and deepen the kiss, being gentle with her. My fingers tangle in her hair; I’m desperate to explore more of her.
I feel her body relax under my hands and as she opens her mouth for me, I slide my tongue inside, wanting to taste every part of her. Her hands move to my chest as I pull her even closer to me.
I groan against her mouth, not wanting to stop for air. Hope is all I need to breathe.
"Where the fuck is the bag?" Jackson yells, and Hope pulls away from me quickly and dashes off to the kitchen. "Leo, you have one fucking job when you get home." He walks over to me, and as I take off my pants, I grab the blanket off the chair and wrap it around my waist so I can remove my boxers.
“Happy?” I growl, tying the bag up. I see Hope walking up the stairs.
Jackson watches me as my eyes follow Hope. “Please tell me you didn’t just do anything with her?”
“I didn’t do anything.” He doesn’t need to know about it, the fucker will only moan about it and say I’m doing the wrong thing.
“Of course you fucking didn’t. See you in the morning.” Jackson grabs the bag and leaves so I make my way upstairs.
I stop outside Hope's bedroom, and I just stand there watching her lying on the floor looking out of the window. Where do I go from here? What's my next move? Do I...? I have no idea. Shaking my head, I walk to my bedroom to shower and let tomorrow be a new day to see what happens with Hope.
CHAPTER15
