Stretching out my legs, which are clad in turquoise Lycra, I raise a brow. “No? How do I look?”
“Like a girl who belongs over my knee for running around town without permission.”
My pussy clenches. He is so good at playing the stern Daddy Dom. Not that I’ve ever had one. But Tavi makes them sound very sexy.
Mafia. Fucking. Hitman,I remind myself.
Exhaling, I try to convince the parts of me that find him incredibly sexy to settle the hell down.
“I appreciate the concern,” I say, forcing my voice to drop the flirty undertone. “But as you saw, Eden has private security now. I’ll be safe here.”
Not that I actually want to stay. Eden likes to swing, which means I’m likely to get hassled to join in. I won’t. It might even freak me out. Past trauma lingers… a memory slithers across my mind, of Bray’s frat brothers and their sinister intentions. As always, I shove the memories away. It’s over. I don’t want to think about that night.
Erik moves a stack of magazines and mail from the end of the couch to a side table, so he can sit. “Let’s talk about why you left.”
It would probably be dangerous to accuse him of being a deadly criminal, so that’s out.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Viking. All I need to say is that I’m more comfortable at my friend’s. If anything, it’s safer here because there are a lot more people around. Your area of the waterfront is deserted.”
“Let’s talk about why you left,” he repeats just as firmly.
I shake my head.
Erik’s hand catches a foot that’s near his knee and massages it. I try to withdraw, but his grip tightens. My nipples tingle and ache.
For God’s sake. Your attraction to this man is deeply fucked up. You need to go back to therapy.
“I didn’t think my statement could be confused for a question, Arya, but let me rephrase things just in case. I’m not leaving until you tell me why you left.” His dominant tone sinks me farther into the abyss.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the text from Eden.
Eden: I invited a few people over. Erik should come. Then you guys can see each other without you having to go home alone with him.
Eden: You should wear my red silk slip dress. looks better on you. panties optional ;)
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.
Eden means well, but she’s always angling to get me into a group scene, which I don’t think I could ever do now.
“What’s wrong?”
I glare at my phone and then at him.
If Erik wasn’t living a suspicious life, I would still be at his place, trying out new sex positions and trading barbs with him until he decided to get sexily rough again.
“Where did the plastic-wrap bundles of cash come from, Viking?”
His gaze stays steady, holding mine. “I get paid under the table for some work I do.”
“What work?”
“As a mover.”
“Bullshit. Movers don’t get paid in stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”
He glances around as if federal agents might be in the closet, ready to spring out. “I move contraband liquor.”
Staring at him, my brows rise. “Really?”
