“Good.” He unzips the bottom and flips it open to reveal neatly arranged stacks of cash next to a row of phones, cables, and several closed plastic containers I can’t figure out the use for.
He takes out all the cash and piles it onto my kitchen bar, then zips the bag closed. He’s carrying something large. It’s not his clothes. It’s not his money. It’s not a laptop. His bag is long and pretty scary, to be honest.
“Do you ski?” I ask. Skis are long.
He shakes his head.
“Snowboard? Play hockey? Is it an instrument?”
The man snatches my wrist and pulls me to stand between his legs. He cups my face and gently kisses my nose. “You’reso cute. Please stop asking about my bag. I would hate it if something happened to you.”
I stare into his eyes, painfully aware of our proximity, of the fresh soap he used. Mine. The orchid shower gel smells differently on him. It’s more serious, more potent, masculine. As masculine as his energy, his big, rough hands, his hard chest that I rest my hands on.
Then I push.
He releases me, and I step away, unsure if he threatened or warned me. Even a threat from his lips sounds sexy.
I’m going to buy myself a dildo with his money.
Chapter 6
I almost kissed her
Declan
Fuck. I almost kissed this woman.
If she hadn’t stepped away, clearly not wanting my attention, I’m not sure I could have resisted kissing her. My ninjitsu training with Master Yi didn’t prepare me for fighting the urge to bend a curvaceous older woman over my knee and spank that sass right out of her.
I hope my erection isn’t obvious.
It’ll make the proximity I’m enforcing with her more awkward than it needs to be. I need her to feel comfortable with me invading her space, and instead of being standoffish and appearing disinterested, I grabbed her and almost kissed her.
I can’t do that again. I consider apologizing, but I REALLY can’t have her asking about my drag bag either. This situation is less than ideal, but I had no choice when she hit me with her car. She ought to have run me over and kept driving.
I sit on my hands and turn toward the television. People are gathering in the city’s square, presumably for a march toward the Crossbow mansion. There’s another group of people formingaround the hospital. There could be clashes now. Not everyone hated my dad. He funded certain groups for years who have supported his rule for no other than reason than to gain access to privileges afforded only to the wealthy.
“The cops will restrict access to Selnoa General. Emergencies only.”
“You think so?” she asks.
“Mmhm.”
“They’ve never done that before.”
“Because a violent kingpin who ruled over the city has never been presumed dead before. The city has a procedure for how to handle gatherings around Selnoa General.”
She’s quiet, standing in the middle of the room watching TV. “How do you know that?”
I shrug. “It’s a publicly accessible city policy. You can get the books from the library.”
“Who reads that, though?”
Another shrug. “Me.”
“Meanwhile, most people read thrillers. Or romance. Or watch movies.”
“I read thrillers,” I counter. Sparring with this woman is thrilling. She’s sassy but not obnoxious or deliberately offensive. I really like how she challenges me. I shouldn’t like her, but she makes it impossible not to. I think she’s cute and kind, and her sass is just frosting on the cake.
