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“Luke,” she says. “Hey. Come in. Please. Well… it’s your place. You know you can come in.”
“I heard there was some trouble last night,” I say, attempting to keep my voice level.
She walks ahead of me, giving me a tempting view of her ass, so much fuller in the shorts. They’re short shorts, giving me a preview of the lower part of her ass, an enthralling sight that has me wanting to slip my hand beneath the fabric and greedily massage her. Or I could wrap my arms around her, tenderly kiss her on the cheek, whisper that she’s mine, and I’ll always keep her safe.
“Yeah,” she murmurs, leading me into the kitchen.
Bacon is frying, and eggs are cooking in the pan.
“Do you want some?” she asks.
“Sure.” I sit at the island. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do, and it’s your food, anyway.”
“Jane, stop saying things like that. I know that, technically, this all belongs to me, but while you’re here, I want you to think of it as your own.”
She looks at me with her eyes narrowed as if shocked at the fieriness in my tone, which makes sense. As far as she’s concerned, I’m a generous billionaire and nothing more—definitely not her owner, the man who would destroy anybody who tried to hurt her.
“Tell me about yesterday.”
She explains about the park.
“He was in the shadows, so I couldn’t really see him. He just stared and made this weird throat-cutting gesture. It was scary, honestly.”
I clench my fist against my knee, so she can’t see the fury swelling in me.
“The Russian mob has been threatening me for over a month,” I tell her. “We’ve got a contract with the US government, helping their witness-protection program. The mob doesn’t like that very much, but I’ll be damned if I let them intimidate me.”
“But why go after me?” she asks, swallowing as she flips the bacon. “I mean, you must have dozens of people in the programming project, right?”
“No, that was a lie.”
She drops the spatula, her mouth falling open at the same time.
“A lie?”
“When I saw you, I knew I had to help you. I knew…” Slowing down, I remind myself to be careful.
“You had this look in your eyes like you needed a break, so I gave you one. I panicked and invented the programming project. We do have stuff like that, but it doesn’t involve…”
“Fancy apartments, security, all that stuff?”
“Exactly.”
I sense that there’s so much she’d like to say. It’s right there in her flushed cheeks and her pursed lips. Maybe she’s thinking about what it would be like if we kissed and if I slid my hands down her body, grabbed her hips, and drove them forward so she could feel how feral she turned me.
“So, how long can I stay here?” she asks.
“As long as you want.”
“But there must be a limit. What if I never want to leave?”
I smirk. “That’s fine by me.”
She picks up the spatula aggressively. “Everything has to come to an end at some point. You can’t expect me to believe you’ll bankroll me for the rest of my life.”
That’s exactly what I plan on doing, but what if I tell her that, and she runs?
“Seriously,” she says. “I’m grateful, but you can be honest. If this is a month-by-month thing, I get it.”
“Do you want to leave?” I growl, not because she’s done anything wrong, but because of the idea of never seeing her again… It explodes an atom bomb of pure need inside of me. It makes my breath come quicker, deeper, and fiercer. It makes me want to howl.
“N-no,” she says, a note of fear in her voice.
That’s not good. She’s not supposed to be afraid of me.
“So why go after me, then?”
“They must think we’re in a relationship,” I tell her, gauging her reaction.
She lowers her eyes, staring fixedly at the bacon as she transfers it from the pan to a plate. It’s difficult to read her, which is a joke. I should be able to read my woman always. I should never have to doubt what she’s thinking.
“That’s just insane,” she says, shaking her head. “They can see you, right? I mean, they have eyes.”
I chuckle. It’s a magical thing, the way Jane can take us from serious one moment to laughing and lighthearted the next.
“As far as I know, they’ve got eyes, yeah.”
“Well, then…” She gestures at me with the spatula. “Surely they can see…”
“See what?” I snap.
“It would be a mismatch, wouldn’t it?”
“What, I’m too old for you?” I joke.
“I didn’t mean that. I meant us and the way we look. It doesn’t fit together.”
“You’re beautiful, Jane.”
She laughs, shaking her head so fiercely, more curly hair strands come loose from her bun.
“I’m not joking.”
I’m on my feet, striding quickly around the kitchen island before I have time to think honestly about what I’m doing. I stop right in front of her, glaring down as her chest rises and falls rapidly, highlighting the voluptuous shape of her tits, her breasts made for sucking, massaging, and slipping my dick between them, driving until I explode all over her chest and face.
