Considering the clock besidethe bed read 6:42am, I was evenmorepissed. I’d had eighteen more minutesbefore my alarm went off. Eighteen minutes would have beenplenty.
At least it was probablyenough to get myself off before I had to face the world. Closing my eyes again,I let my sleepy, sex-starved brain conjure up the image of Gray again, loomingover me, smirking, blue eyes glittering as he sized me up, trying to decidewhat to do with me.
I could have had anything inthe privacy of my own mind, but what I wanted, a little guiltily, was for himto kiss me. I couldn’t help feeling like I’d made a mistake by not doing that when Ihad the chance.
Gray seemed like the kind ofman who kissed with his whole body, and in my head that was exactly whathappened. He leaned in, still smirking until he was too close to see, andpinned me to the mattress at the same time for a kiss that started gentle butended in him licking his way into my mouth, thrusting his tongue in as Iwrapped my hand around my cock, hissing when I found it already oversensitivewith need.
Screw whatever had woken meup. I wasstillgetting this, even if I had to do it myself.
Fantasy Gray kissed his wayalong my jawline, humming the soft, happy hum of someone who was excited to bewith exactly the person they were with. That was a dangerous route to go down,but I wasn’texpecting him to stay in my life a whole lot longer. Just long enough to fillmy spank bank with smoldering looks and really great views of his ass. Ooh, andbiceps. I still wantedhim to lift me clear off the floor. That would have beenhot.
But in my head, he just keptkissing me. Because yeah, screw it, in the safety of my own mind, I could admitthat I was lonely. That what I wanted was aboyfriend, not yet anotherquick hookup, not even a hot bodyguard who’d fuck me whenever I asked.
It wasn’t going to beGray for a whole bunch of reasons, but right now, he was my current favorite sexualfantasy, and it couldn’t hurt to make him into whatIwanted for this.Knowing it wasn’t reality didn’t matter.
The sound of my front doorslamming shut made my blood run cold.
No one should have been inhere at this hour. My maid service came in the afternoon. Maintenance wouldhave called if they needed access to the inside of the apartment.
Any urge I still had to fantasizeabout Gray dissolved instantly. Someone was—orhad been—in my apartmentwithout my knowledge or permission, while I was asleep.
What was I even supposed todo in this situation? If I tried to call the police and there was still someoneout there, they’d probably hear me and realize I wasn’t asleep anymore.
What if they had a weapon? I’d be screwed.
But then, what if they werecoming to hurt me and just hadn’t made it into the bedroom yet? I couldn’t think ofanyone I’d pissed off enough to make them want me dead, but…
Maybe the car and officebreak-ins had rattled me a little more than I thought. Ihadbeenrelieved when Gray accepted the job.
Could I text him?
No. Not if there was stillsomeone in the house. I’d be dragging him into a situation where I wasputtinghimin danger, too.I was only paying him, he didn’t owe me his life.
The best I could think ofwas to press myself against the wall beside the door, so that I’d be hidden ifanyone tried to come in. Weapon-wise, all I could find was a shoe.
It’s probably not aspider,mybrain reminded me. Hell, even if it was a spider, a shoe wouldn’t be much useagainst a spider big enough to slam my door shut.
So.
I had a shoe.
Whoever was or had been inmy apartment could have had anything up to and including a rocket launcher.
Totally fair fight. I’d be fine. Rightaround the time I could get my lungs to cooperate and breathe slowly and deeplyinstead of panting so harshly it was making my head light.
I stood behind the door withmy shoe until the clock beside my bed read 7:30am in big, judgmental redletters.
There hadn’t been anothersound since, and I’d been standing there for over forty-five minutes. Like thebiggest coward on the face of the Earth.
With my heart in my throat,I held my shoe closer and risked turning the knob on the bedroom door, wincingat the way it squeaked as it turned. I’d never thought much of it before, but ifnot getting it fixed was what got me killed, I’d bereallyembarrassed.
On the other side of thedoor, my apartment was a mess. Books littered the floor, one of the bookcaseshad been toppled over—how the hell did I sleep through that?
My desk, though, was at the centerof the chaos. Papers everywhere.
My stomach sank. Papers.
This kept coming back topapers, didn’tit? What were theylookingfor?
