He cleared his throat. “You look sexy holding that gun, princess.”
“Idiota,” I murmured, unable to help the upward tick of my lips as he pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1.
The King To Her Queen
Ben
Whenthepolicearrived,Eve handed over the gun, finally letting her composure slip as she ran into my arms. I held her tightly as she shook, tears staining her cheeks.
“Shh,” I murmured, smoothing her hair through my fingertips as she fell apart. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” I soothed.
“She almost shot you.” She reached up, taking my face in her hands and stroking the stubble that lined my jaw.
“Nah, she couldn’t hit a broad side of a barn,” I joked, ignoring the thundering of my pulse. “She missed me by a mile.”
“How are you making jokes right now? I’m shaking like a leaf.”
I rubbed calming circles over her back, grateful to finally have her in my arms.
“Because while you were busy holding her at gunpoint, I was freaking the fuck out. And now that the cops are here and she’s in handcuffs, it’s your turn to freak the fuck out.”
I might be downplaying things a bit, for Eve’s sake. Everything about that standoff had me on edge, but I’d had plenty of time to think of every scenario that might have happened if I hadn’t gone into the locker room at that moment. And now I was ready to focus on the fact that we were both still here, uninjured and whole.
“Okay,” she whimpered, nodding into my chest. My heartbeat slowed as I held her. I wasn’t letting her go. Ever.
It was sheer luck that neither of us had been shot. Luck and Eve’s quick thinking with the pepper spray.
I hadn’t jumped into motion when I saw the gun. I had been frozen to the spot, watching in horror as my girl disabled her own attacker, unable to move until Eve’s voice had thawed my fear.
I wasn’t some hero like Jack, who had rescued Olivia from her crazy ex last year. I was a bystander who watched as my girlfriend subdued her own attacker. She hadn’t even needed me, but instead of feeling flawed and insufficient, I just felt proud.
Proud that she was mine.
Proud that she didn’t need me, but she chose me anyway.
I buried my face in her hair, allowing her scent to chase away the residual anxiety. The lingering buzz of adrenaline left me aching to take her home or pull her into another room where I could bury myself inside her, to sate my need of knowing that she really was safe in my arms.
I didn’t take my hands off her while we gave our statements to the police and the entire train ride home. Every touch, every brush of her fingers on mine was all-consuming.
I needed to touch every inch of her, needed to tear her clothes off and take her hard and fast. And from the way she looked at me out of the corner of her eyes, her fingers digging into my thighs, she wanted it, too.
We were both held on a tight leash, ready to tear into each other the second we were alone.
Our hands didn’t leave each other until we got to my apartment and then, only to strip off our clothes. She tore at my shirt, buttons popping and clicking against the wood floors. Kissing my chest as she pulled my shirt all the way off.
I stared at the ceiling while she licked and nipped down my stomach, making my skin quiver. I was so hard it hurt, and I didn’t know if I could wait for her this time. The pin of the grenade had already been pulled, and I was one thrust away from detonation.
“Pants off,” she panted.
“Yours, too,” I growled, unfastening mine and letting them pool at my feet.
She dragged hers down her thighs with her thong, her shirt and bra already tossed on the floor carelessly.
When had she taken those off?
I’d been so captivated by her touch, I hadn’t even noticed her clothes coming off.
My hands slid under her ass, and I lifted her up, carrying her to my bedroom as I captured her mouth in a frenzied kiss.Her nails pierced the skin of my back, dragging me tight against her. I bit her neck and reveled in the sound of her sweet moans.
