“We can’t stay here long.” Gabe sits with a heavy sigh at the small table. The house is a wreck. The people who lived here beforeit was sold smoked for fifty years. The ceilings and walls are tobacco-stained and the floorboards are caked with grime.
“I won’t miss it.”
“I’m worried about moving him.” Gabe eats mechanically, frowning at the plate. “Doctor said it would be a bad idea.”
“What’s the other option?”
“There isn’t one.” His jaw sets as he looks up at me. “Except killing Artyom.”
“Can you do that?”
“I might. I don’t know.” He goes back to eating, a glint of determination in his expression.
I sit beside him and put my hand on his arm. He pauses, touches my fingers with his, before pulling me against him. I kiss his shoulder and let his arms wrap around me as he pushes back from the table and drags me into his lap.
I curl into him, kissing his neck, his cheek, his chin.
“You almost died,” I whisper, heart fluttering.
“Wasn’t the first time.”
“But it was bad, right? Really bad?”
“Daniel got the worst of it.”
“Still—“
“This is what it means to be who I am.” He lifts my chin, eyes locked on mine. “This is the risk we take.”
“I know.” I chew my lip, uncertain and afraid. “But what if it went wrong? What if it goes wrong next time?”
“We’re in the network. I don’t know how, but they got the drop on us. I think we got lazy, maybe arrogant, and those two thugs made us. Next time, I’m going in against Artyom directly, and I’m ending this up front.”
Rage simmers in his body. I feel the heat of it rising from his skin. His well-honed muscles are tense, and I’m afraid of what he’s going to do next, how far he’s willing to go, what terrible, reckless risks he’s going to take.
Time’s running out.
I turn to face him, wrapping my legs around his middle and straddling him. I grind down, my core brushing over and against him as I arch my back and lean my forehead into his. His rumble of pleasure sends a piercing spike through my belly. His hands grab my ass, holding me against him.
“You know what I like?”
“When I sink myself between your legs.”
“Well—“
“When I tug your hair—“ He grips it, lacing his fingers and holding hard. “When I make it hurt.”
“Yes, but that’s not what I was talking about.”
“What else could you possibly think about right now?”
I kiss him, then pull back before he can devour me. I like his frustrated growl like he can’t stand me teasing him.
“I’ve never seen you so worried about one of your men before.”
“That’s what you’re talking about?”
“You care about Daniel.”