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She startled.
Ahh, fuck. He was tired and being an asshole. He just hated admitting to a weakness. He’d learned that as a child. Being weak meant you could be taken advantage of. Hurt.
He’d always told himself that when he got older, he’d never allow himself to be kicked around and used again. And he hadn’t been. Even if that meant he didn’t let many people close.
So what are you doing here? With her?
Sex.
It’s just about sex.
So he shouldn’t feel the need to apologize, right?
“Sorry.” Fuck.
Her eyes widened. Yeah, he wasn’t great at apologizing. Getting information out of people, intimidating them, assessing risk and eliminating it . . . those things he was good at.
Or he thought he had been. Things seemed to be turning to shit lately.
“Are you going to ask me in?” he asked.
She bit her thumbnail. “Yep, I, uh, my place is a mess, though.”
“I don’t care about a mess, girl.”
“Just, um, give me two minutes, maybe three. It’s really a big mess,” she muttered that last part, closing the door on him.
To his surprise, amusement filled him. When was the last time someone had shut a door in his face? Usually, everyone went out of their way, falling over their feet to give him whatever he wanted.
And this little thing was closing the door in his face without even flinching.
Unbelievable.
And what was he doing? Standing here waiting like a good, obedient boy.
Hmm, he should make her pay for leaving him out here like this . . . only, she wasn’t his sub.
Fuck. The urge to turn her over his knee was strong.
Suddenly the door opened and he nearly fell forward since he hadn’t been expecting it. Fuck, that was embarrassing. He really was tired if he was letting himself be taken by surprise like that.
“Shoot! I’m so sorry.” She threw her arms around him.
He froze. “What are you doing, girl?”
“Stopping you from falling over, of course. What happened? Did you trip over something? I can’t see anything. Are you okay? Are you steady? Have you eaten dinner tonight? Maybe you need a snack. You might have low blood pressure. I get light-headed when I skip meals too. Come on, come sit down. Here, lean on me.” She wrapped her arm around his waist.
He stared down at her incredulously. What the fuck was she thinking? He had to weigh twice as much as she did.
“Oh! You have an . . . oh, um . . .”
What was she . . . ahh, right. “Yeah, I carry a gun.”
“Why?” She stared up at him.
“Lots of people do in this state.”
“Right. Sure.”
