“Say it.”He leaned closer, breath warm.
“A deserter.Marked.”Her pulse raced as she pressed her forehead to his.“Killer.”
“Yeah.”His jaw tightened.
She should pull back.
“Keisha,” he said, fingers brushing her wrists.“Your tremors.”
“It’s fine,” she said, shaking worse.“I’m fine.”
“When’d you take your meds?”
The question stung, exposing her guard.“Before the warehouse,” she said, meeting his eyes.“I’ve taken all of my emergency backups.My full bottle is at my place.”
Sergei stood, grabbing an orange bottle from his bag.
Levetiracetam.
“I had Mateo get these just in case,” he said, uneasy.“I knew it was a possibility that we couldn’t go back.”
Their fingers brushed as she took it, heat sparking low.She swallowed a pill dry.
“They know about my epilepsy,” she said.“They’ll use it thinking I’m weak.”
“I know.”
His fingers grazed her hands.Killer’s hands, artist’s hands.
“Why’d you dig into this, Keisha?”he asked, thumb on her pulse.“You could’ve dropped Tiana’s case.”
“No one protected me,” she whispered.“In the system.”
His eyes flashed with understanding.His hand moved to her cheek.“I read up on you,” he admitted.“Before we met, when your name came across the radar.”
Relief hit, not anger.She didn’t need to explain.“Then you know,” she said, leaning into his touch, a surrender.
His thumb traced her lip.“Yeah.”
Need and want surged through her, pooling between her legs.His knee pressed between hers.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, thighs parting.
“The worst,” he rumbled.“I’ll keep you safe, Keisha.I swear it.”
* * *
Sergei moved closer, mouth claiming hers, hunger shocking him.Keisha gasped, tensing, then melting.He pressed her back onto the bed.Her hands slid up his chest, hesitant, then bold, clutching his shoulders.
His cock hardened, straining.He’d wanted this since their encounter at the community center.
“Fuck,” he groaned as her hips shifted, electricity spiking through his body.
Her lips parted, breath fast as he pinned her wrists with one hand, arching her breasts against him.His other hand dug into her hip.“Sergei,” she whispered, question and answer.
He pulled back, seeing her...eyes dark, lips swollen, hair wild.Beautiful.His.“You’re mine,” he growled, possessive.“Fuck, you’re mine.”
She didn’t recoil, eyes darkening, hips lifting.“Prove it,” she challenged, husky.
