Her white teeth capture her plush bottom lip, and all over again, I’m aroused. “Yes, but?—”
“So come to me.” I keep my voice low and coaxing. This is my obsession. Every message, every present, is leading to her in my arms, for real. It’s been years since I felt a connection—no. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. The instinct to care for her, nurture her. Be as good as she needs me to be.
I’d give up Norwood.
It’s a weird realisation. The mafia I’ve worked to build over my whole life, and has defined me, if she wanted out, I’d go. No question. Nina is everything.
“I would, but—” she begins then her eyes go wide and she cuts herself off as a door opens.
There’s a muffled call from somewhere else in her apartment. “Nina?”
“I have to go!” she stammers, the colour washing out of her cheeks.
“Wait—”
“Sorry, thank you,” she babbles, not listening. Her expression is panicked.
I have to calm her down. Get her to understand.
“Nina, it’s?—”
But she’s already gone. Hung up, without noticing that I used her real name, not the nickname we’ve been using to pretend anonymity for her.
I slump back.
Instantly, her absence hollows out my chest in the place most people have a heart.
I can’t live like this. It’s insane, but she’s as necessary as air. I’ve never felt this way about a woman. And if I’m honest, there’s been something special about my bunny from the start. Before I’d ever seen how pretty she is, and heard her moan as she came and those soft whimpers from the filthy words I said to her.
Those sounds, I could listen to her for the rest of my life.
She’s funny, sexy, brave. I crave her.
I love her.
The thought is a shock, but it’s… Correct. It’s just giving the feeling a name, when it’s been there, lodged inside me from the beginning.
Fuck it.
Enough messing around. I need to get my girl.
14
NINA
The notification from Paddington Station makes me grin sleepily. A third present? It’s Saturday morning, and I’m still in bed, having a lie-in.
I didn’t realise I was wondering how I was going to fill my day—apart from the unending laundry and cleaning—but the idea of crossing London to get a mystery parcel is perfect.
And if part of me wonders if I need to leave Norwood to have my excitement fix, since Blake lives in this part of London. I squash that thought firmly.
BunnytheKiller
What is it?
Blake
Good morning life-ender. It’s a surprise.
