Assumption

Author: P Hana

Page 35

   

“Okay, so what do we do now?” I wonder out loud. I can’t think of anything I left behind that would lead anyone here, but I can’t be sure.

His eyebrows come together in confusion and his hand travels to the back of my neck then up into my hair, fisting it. “You’re not gonna cry?”

“No,” I reply, feeling my own eyebrows pull together, wondering why I should cry.

“Warrior,” he says quietly, his eyes going soft, making my heart pound a little harder. “I have a guy who’s connected to the organization that planned the hit. I sent him a message and am just waiting for him to get back to me.”

“What do you think they’re going to do?”

“Not sure, but I doubt they want the kind of publicity they’ll create if they try to send their guy after you.”

“What do they care about publicity if they are who you say they are?”

“They’re in control of half of Vegas. They may be Mob, but even they have an image to uphold,” he explains.

“They killed innocent people,” I remind him on a whisper. The thought of people like that caring what others think about them is laughable.

“They planned the hit, but their hands are clean.” He shrugs.

I look into his eyes and see an understanding that confuses me, and I wonder if he’s ever used that excuse. I lift my hand and run it along the roughness of his jaw. “Are you okay?” I ask him, seeing the weariness around his eyes.

“Yeah, but I’ll be even better when this shit’s over.”

I hear the tiredness in his voice and wonder how much sleep he’s gotten since he left. I push my fingers through his hair and his eyes start to close at the contact.

“You should take a nap,” I tell him softly. “We can figure out everything else later.”

“You gonna take one with me?” he asks.

Without thinking, I nod and he maneuvers me so that I’m straddling him. My breath leaves on a whoosh, my hands go to his shoulders, and his go to my ass. Our mouths are so close that I feel each of his breaths against my lips. I expect him to kiss me, but instead, he stands up off the couch. My legs wrap around his waist and I bite my lip when I feel the hard length of his arousal against my core through the thin material of my shorts.

When we reach my room, he pushes open the door and gently lays me on the bed before stepping back and taking off his boots and shirt. I watch, mesmerized, as his arm and abs flex when his fingers go to the button of his jeans and he pulls them down. I can see his hard-on outlined through his boxers, and my eyes travel up his body to his eyes, which look sleepy. I scoot back in the bed as he shuts off the light, and I feel the bed compress and his weight hit my side.

I try to ignore the ache between my legs as I lie on my back with his arm around my waist, his breath hitting my neck and his thigh over my legs. I try to calm down, but his hand lifts my shirt and my muscles clench. I expect him to grab my breast or touch me sexually, but he surprises me yet again when his hand just lies against my skin. All of my nerve endings are tingling in anticipation, and then I hear his light snore. My body relaxes and I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before drifting off to sleep.

“Wake up, baby.”

I feel a featherlight touch travel down the side of my face. My eyes flutter open and connect with Kenton’s. “Hi,” I say, blinking against the light coming in from the now open blinds in the room.

His fingers run down the underside of my jaw then up along my ear. “You sleep okay when I was gone?” he asks, his eyes focused on his fingers traveling over my skin.

I think about lying and telling him that I slept great and didn’t miss him at all, but something about the moment has me blurting out the truth. “I missed sleeping with you.”

“Yeah?” His eyes search my face as I nod and close my eyes, feeling too exposed. “I slept like shit.” His words make my eyes open and search his face. “Hated that I couldn’t be here to look out for you and Justin was doing my job. I didn’t like that another man was in the house with you.”

“I wouldn’t—” I start to tell him that I would never even think about Justin like that, but his finger covers my lips and his head lowers towards mine.

“I know you wouldn’t. I still didn’t like it.” He takes away his finger and lowers his face towards mine.

The first touch of his lips is soft, and my eyes flutter closed as his hand runs along my jaw to the back of my neck. I whimper when his tongue runs along my bottom lip before nipping it with his teeth. My hands find their way into his hair so I can hold him to me. His hips shift and his hand at my hair travels down along my side then up and under the shirt I’m wearing, settling just below my breast.

As his mouth devours mine, I pull my mouth from his, pressing my head back into the pillow, lifting my chest, trying to get his hand to move. His thumb sweeps over my nipple; the slight contact has me moaning loudly.

“I need to see you,” he rumbles, pulling away. His hands go to the hem of the shirt, pulling it off over my head and tossing it to the floor behind him.

I start to cover myself, but his hands capture mine and tug them above my head. His eyes travel down my body, and when they come back to mine, the dark hunger I see makes me hold my breath. His mouth lowers towards mine again, his tongue plunging between my lips, not giving me a choice but to kiss him back. When his mouth leaves mine, traveling down my neck, he sucks my collarbone, causing my hips to lift and my chest to rise higher. His mouth starts a slow trek around my breast before I feel warm, wet heat cover my nipple. My body arches off the bed, and one of his hands leaves mine above my head and travels down to cup my other breast, his fingers rolling over my nipple, causing a moan to climb up my throat.

My hand goes to his shoulder, holding on as his hand navigates down over my stomach, causing my muscles to contract and wetness to gather between my thighs. The first feeling of his fingers along my pubic bone has me panicking, but want quickly takes over as one slides under the edge of my shorts and panties and then down to roll over my clit.

“Soaked,” he growls, his head lifting and his eyes locking on mine.

His finger lowers, entering me slowly as his eyes watch me closely. I don’t know whether to pull away or to lift my hips for more. When his hand leaves me, I cry out, only to be startled when I feel my panties and shorts being tugged off. Before I have a chance to think, his fingers are back and he adds his thumb, rolling it over the bundle of nerves that has me clawing at his shoulders.

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