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“Under the covers with you, lass. Do you want me to sleep in my room or can I stay in here with you.”
At first, I’m inclined to make him leave, but since I just royally freaked out on him after some of the best sex I’ve ever had, the least I can do is let him sleep in my bed. So, I pat the empty spot next to me and smile. “You can stay.”
I stand and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee, and when I return, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me.
“I’ll only ask one more time. Are you sure you’re alright?”
I put a hand on his shoulder and kiss his forehead. “I’m fine, Luke. That was amazing.”
He wants to ask again, I can see it in his eyes, but he nods and slides under the covers, motioning for me to do the same.
When I do, he pulls me to him and kisses my shoulder.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs before we both drift off.
Chapter 11
Luke
Zaraissleepingnextto me when the sun peeks through the windows. I, on the other hand, have not slept at all. I roll onto my side and watch her. She’s always so no-nonsense and flawless when she’s awake. Here, curled into herself next to me she looks like a troubled soul. Restless doesn’t describe the way she sleeps. The girl has a lot on her mind, and it stays with her even in her dreams. I wonder when she last had a peaceful night’s sleep.
The taste I got for her last night did nothing to extinguish my desire. If anything, the flames are burning hotter, and that’s not what I had in mind when I accepted her proposition to enjoy each other this week. Then again, does “getting it out of your system” ever actually work?
It certainly didn’t work for Matteo.
I brush the long locks from her cheek so I can see her face, and she bats my hand away. Silent laughter shakes me, and I roll out of bed and move to the living room. No sense disturbing her even though I’m dying for another taste. After she froze up when I asked about her scar, I’m not sure where we stand. She may not want me touching her again, though she let me hold her while she fell asleep last night, so I’m hopeful.
So instead, I open my laptop to work. But Zara’s background check from Owen is up on my screen, and I can’t help but click on one of the links on the first page. It’s her business website.
Sexy, not quite naked pictures grace the front page along with a variety of links. One leads to a paid photo gallery where you can purchase NSFW photos and videos. Another leads to her booking information. Yet another still leads to a form where buyers can request and purchase custom video content at a premium of a hundred dollars per video minute.
I’ve never been one to look at porn, and I’ve certainly never paid for it. The Internet is full of free content. Seeing everything Zara has built here, I wonder if that makes me the asshole. Maybe if she’s still speaking to me when she wakes up, I’ll ask her.
Right now, I’m tempted to submit a request for a video. There’s a lot of things I would pay good money to see Zara doing on film. But then the jealousy hits me. The thought of other men ogling her body. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want her to be mine. And I know that’s dangerous.
I can’t just insist that she quit her job. Not to mention I don’t know if I can actually trust her. Certain parts of my body insist we can, but I know better than to put faith in that feeling.
My phone rings and it’s my assistant at Four Aces VIP Transportation—my limo company.
“Mr. Bowden, it’s Clara. The FBI is here at the office, and they have a warrant. What should I do?”
Clara is another of my cousins who came to work for me when she wanted to escape her life in New York City. But she insists on calling me Mr. Bowden. Now that Zara calls me that at the club, I might have to demand that Clara call me Luke. We’re cousins after all.
“It’s fine, Clara. Let them do their jobs. I’m sorry I haven’t briefed you on everything since I got back to town.” It strikes me it’s only been a few days since someone killed the mayor of NYC. It feels like an eternity ago.
“Will do. Are you going to come in?”
I contemplate it. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not sure it’s a great idea. You can handle it. Just make sure you get a receipt for anything they take.”
I end the call and dial Matteo’s number.
“He’s in the shower,” Skylar answers tersely.
“Tell him the FBI is at my office. Ask him if he wants me to go down there or stay away.”
The call ends and I shake my head. I’ve been hoping she would get over what I did to Donovan with time, but so far, she’s still angry. When my idiot cousin gave in to Matteo’s dad and brought Skylar to him, Matteo was ready to slit his throat. But Skylar begged him not to. So, he turned him over to me. And I did what I thought was best.
Enough is enough.
