“I’m not.”
“Alright, princess. Show me what you know.”
Cha Cha leans into me, and rests her lips against mine. Not in full contact; this is the barest ghost of a kiss, if it even is one. I release a groan as she leans back, triumph written across her eyes.
“You told me to earn it.” Her breath grazes my mouth. I ache to taste her, but now is not the right time. Heat from her blazes at me. “But also, I asked you not to call me Cha Cha then because it made me feel unsafe. Objectified. And even when you were pretending to be cruel and harsh, you did as I asked. You respected me.” She raises a shoulder. “So. I get a goodnight kiss, right?” Her lips purse in a pretty pout.
I swear if she fucking giggles once more I’ll burst in my jeans.
“I pretended, huh?”
“Mhmm.” She sways a little, her thighs brushing mine.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, princess. You’ve earned that kiss. But later. It’s still morning, and we have a lot of training to do. You’re gonna be sore by tonight,” I promise her. She’s not the only one who’s going to earn something.
“Pity.” She turns to flounce away, but I haul her back.
“Last lesson. Breathing.”
Cha Cha rolls her eyes. “We did this already.”
Brat.I file that information away for later, too. Earlier, I wasn't sure about the source of her tantrums. I should be thanking her for providing me with the answer.Earned, indeed.
“Not like this, we didn’t." I position her between my legs so we’re thigh to thigh, and tip her chin up. “Don’t look away. Breathe with me. Count. I’ll breathe out soon, and I won’t take another breath in for a while. It’s controlled breathing, and a shooter will call it hollow breath. It’s used for hunting and rifle shooting. Snipers use it too. But if you panic like before, and you need to take that shot, I think this might help. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, worrying it.
The note of uncertainty is back in her voice. I hate that I've put that there, but today is about a whole lot of firsts for my girl.
“Alright, let’s find a breathing rhythm that works.”
It takes a few tries, but we get there, matching out inhales and exhales. As a singer, Cha Cha can hold her breath for a whole lot longer than I can. I seek her pulse point on her wrist again, rubbing gently. Her breaths start to speed up again, taking my own heart rate with it.
“Easy,” I murmur, making a liar of myself as my own heart rate spikes at her proximity. I battle with my own need as I attempt to calm her. “Breathe in with me. Don’t look away. Out. Right here, princess. This is where we are, right now. In again. And out.”
We do it again, and again. Then, when she slows with me, her pulse rate sinking, that’s the last breath I take. I let the air flow from my lungs, leaving me empty and hollow. If I had to fire a weapon right now, my body holds no tension at all, and I’m far less likely to pull the shot. That was my intention with showing Cha Cha.
But instead, I find myself lost in honey dark eyes, seeking golden flecks in their depths. She stands a breath away, if that. My hand rises to cup the back of her neck, drawing her closer. Her forehead bumps mine, and our skin touches, resting together. Our body warmth melds, her eyelids growing heavy.
Drake,” she whispers.
I release her and lean back, inhaling sharply through my nose. “You did good, princess,” I mutter, attempting to offer her the praise she needs.
Cha Cha gazes at me like I’m her fucking idol while I’m furious with myself for not letting her get a day of training in before I fuck around with her. What the hell is the point of making a promise to myself—toher—if I can’t keep it in my pants long enough to complete the job I was hired to do?
But let’s be fair: I exceeded my contract the moment she stepped into my arms this morning. When I fed her breakfast and explained how her stalker’s mind works.
When I watched her for two solid weeks without break, learning everything I could about Cha Cha Min, the moment I took the job, before I was on the payroll.
When I developed my own little celebrity crush that’s becoming so much more so damn fast. I’m snowballing into a land of heartache, while she’s after a fling to ease the loneliness of her existence.
The only question is how fast I’ll solve her stalker problem, and how quickly my celebrity crush will shatter this old grunt’s heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHA CHA
I’m exhausted after my first full day with Drake. He worked me hard, taking me through self defense after shooting lessons, and driving tips after that. I sway on my feet, drinking the green smoothie he made me when I can’t stomach more than part of the steak that sits on my plate, alongside a vegetable salad well after the sun has set over the mountains beyond the house.
