“That’s the job description, yes.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes to keep you alive and figure out who’s coming for you,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “But I need you to trust me with something.”
She swallows, then nods.
“Whatever you’re holding back,” I add, quieter now. “Whatever you haven’t said yet. That’s usually the thing that gets people killed. So, if there’s a reason they were in your apartment, I need it.”
Her fingers tighten around her purse strap.
My gaze drops to it. Back to her face.
Sierra’s breath catches, like the truth is sharp on the way out.
“There’s… something,” she admits. “A flash drive. I found it in my dad’s things. I tried to open it, but it’s locked. I didn’t tell Gray. I didn’t tell anyone.”
A beat of silence.
I don’t let the alarm show on my face, even as my body tenses.
“Where is it?” I ask.
She lifts the purse slightly, like the weight of it suddenly makes sense.
“In here.”
I nod once. “Alright. You did the right thing telling me. From now on, you don’t plug it into anything again, and you don’t let it out of your sight unless I say so.”
She swallows hard. “Okay.”
That last word is small, but it lands like trust.
“You’ll stay at my place,” I continue. “One bedroom. One bed. Couch pulls out. You take the bed.”
Her brows shoot up. “You take the couch?”
“I’ll take whatever keeps you safe.”
She bites her bottom lip. “I’ll take the couch. I’m not going to kick you out of your bed.”
My brain short-circuits. Just like that.
I picture her in my bed, sheets tangled around her thighs, her skin flushed and bare, nipples tight, eyes glazed with need. Her legs open for me, dripping and ready, my mouth buried between them. The way she’d moan when I suck her clit slow… then fast. The way she’d arch, greedy, hips rocking against my face like she’s starved for it.
I’d hold her there, tease her until she breaks, until she’s shaking and breathless, begging for more. I’d learn every sound she makes, every twitch of muscle, every gasp that says I’ve found a spot no one ever touched right.
I want to ruin her for anyone else.
I want her coming on my tongue and screaming my name like it’s salvation.
The rush hits me hard, tightens every muscle, makes me shift in my seat to adjust the tension building under the table.
I drag in a breath. Slow. Measured. Brutal.
Because if I don’t stop thinking about her like this, I won’t stop myself at all.
I take a breath. Lock it down. Let the mission settle over me like armor.
