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“Then,” he says, offering his arm, “I’ll walk you home.”
I should say no as I don’t know him. But I don’t think he’s a threat to me. There’s no radar going off, no part of me whispering run. Besides, one call is all it would take for my dad to send hellfire raining down.
Hellfire and me back under his thumb.
Dad knows I’m in Dallas and that’s it. I like my freedom. Stretching wings. “Sure. This way.”
We walk down the street, and I feel like I’m buzzing high. I’m on the arm of a handsome man and it’s like something from a movie.
“So, what kind of security?” I glance up at him. “That’s not a code word, is it?”
Nicolo laughs. “For fucking what? Nah. Private family firm. That’s all. I am sorry, Avah. I wanted to spend time with you tonight.”
“I have Friday off, so that would be better, and I’m at the studio, not at the bar.”
“Fuck, I remember the part-time gigs when I was around twenty.”
There’s a world-weariness to his voice, and the heat of him warms me inside out. The fact he’s older than me is something I don’t usually like but with him, it’s thrilling. He’s a man. One with interest in me. It might be latent, but it’s there.
“How old are you?”
His mouth twitches. “Fucking old, little girl. Thirty-four.”
“I’m twenty-three, that hardly makes me a little girl,” I say, defending myself.
He grins. “In my books, that still classifies you as a little girl, but you’re hot, sexy, and over twenty-one.”
My legs almost buckle at that and the way he looks at me as if I were the last meal he’d ever have.
We turn onto another street and there’s my apartment building. It’s not much, but it’s basic and even has a little courtyard once you step in through the foyer. I’m not ashamed to say disappointment fills me at the sight of it.
“We’re here,” I announce, nodding to the building.
He looks at it and the door, then at me. The softness of his low smile is at odds with the hard and calculating expression. But then that’s gone, and he holds out his hand. “Phone.”
“What?” I blink, not understanding.
“Hand me your phone,Tesoro,” he demands softly.
Without thinking, I pull it from my bag and pass it to him before I realize that I do it, not asking further questions. What is it about this guy?
“Oh, I need to unlock it.” As I say the words, I remember it’s locked. Once it’s unlocked, I hand it to him, and he takes it without a word. I simply stare at him, admiring him, memorizing how hot he is.
Maybe I should rip my clothes off now and beg him to take me since I’m so eager. But he doesn’t laugh. He just says, “Here’s my number.” Then he presses call. His phone buzzes. “Now, I’ve got your number,” he says, handing it back and moving in close, “and you have mine.”
His breath feathers warm and enticing against my cheek, and his body is almost brushing mine as he runs his thumb along the bottom of my lower lip.
I’m trembling, like a flower waiting for the first rays of the sun.
And my eyelids flutter shut, everything in me zeroing down to his mouth and mine and the anticipation of his kiss.
But he doesn’t, his mouth whispers against my cheek.
With a tiny sigh, I open my eyes, and he’s shifted back, the tiger eyes hot with a predatory light, like he’s got his prey in sight and he knows just how willing I am.
“I’ll text. Tomorrow.”
He stands there until I’m in the building.
