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But, I mean, let’s be real. I kinda have.
I give the plate a glance. He does know my favorite breakfast, doesn’t he? I don’t even need to bite into it to know he made me an egg-and-cheese burrito with avocado. It’s what I eat every single day.
Pulling a stool before the counter, I settle onto it and place my cell down.
“Morning, baby bird. Slept well?”
The seductive twinge in his tone does something to me, heat coiling between my thighs as I fight the urge to curl my arms around his biceps and pull him in for a kiss.
The fact that I want to—that I desire something normal after everything I was put through—is tremendously scary, yet beautiful. He’s made me want things I once never dreamed of wanting. Now I’m here, in his home, in his arms at night and being fed by him in the morning. There’s something warm and safe about him. You know, when you’re not thinking about the secrets and the mask…oh, and the fact that he’s a killer. We’re a match made in hell.
“As per your note…” I say back. “I slept quite well. If I’d known you were asleep next to me, I’d have awakened to pull that mask off your face and kiss you.”
His burly, defined chest jolts.
“Then what?” he asks, practically groaning.
“Then I’d go back to bed.” I grin, yanking the corner of my bottom lip.
He inhales a sharp breath, his feet slowly advancing toward me like a predator about to make me his willing meal. Placing thesteaming plate beside me, he flips my stool around to face him.
With a towering frame, he pushes himself between my thighs, opening me up, bare and pantiless.
He cups my jaw in his palm, thumb stroking across my lips, hips jutting out into my core, eliciting a wanton sound from my lips.
I swallow down the ball of nerves, anticipating his next move. He drops closer, leaning his torso into mine. His fist snaps around my hair, yanking my head back, his chest pressing into mine.
“The fact that you think we’d stop at kissing is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I gasp a quiet breath, mouth parted slightly, just enough for him to push his thumb inside, pressing it down onto my tongue.
“Fucking beautiful,” he rasps, and my body peaks with awareness, with harrowing need.
I wonder what he’ll do next. Say next.
I jump back as my cell rings, over and over. He doesn’t move, except his free hand as he picks it up and examines who the caller is.
“It’s Michael,” he announces before he decides to answer for me, placing him on speaker.
“Kayla.”
“What the hell?” I whisper to A, my expression horrified.
I had no intentions of answering this call.
“Hey, Michael. What’s up?”
“I wanted you to know that you have a new bodyguard assigned. His name is?—”
“I’m sorry, what? Where’s Chris?” My eyes widen at A.
He did something to him. He had to have. It’s why he said not to worry about him.
Oh my God. Did he burn him in the furnace?
“Chris had a family emergency. He had to go out of the country to take care of his mom, who’s dying.”
“Oh, no. That’s so sa?—”
