Braxton
Eliana had walked into the apartment earlier finding nothing odd, everything was in its place. But I, on the other hand, knew better. The cameras I’d installed were gone, every single one of them. I knew she hadn’t left the door ajar, because I checked it myself. It was definitely locked.
The first thing I did when I went back to my apartment earlier was start up my security monitor, only to be met with static. I turned back the recording, and there it was. Someone entered her apartment around lunchtime, and one by one, the person starts to disconnect and remove the cameras. I couldn’t tell who it was by the hood pulled over their face.
And so I decided that if I had no cameras to keep an eye on her, my eyes would have to do. But the fact that she looked so sexy in her tiny nightdress made me wonder if this was the best idea
It’s a job, I remind myself. Damn, she’s getting to me. The slight pout of her lips and the fire that lights up her eyes. I need a night off, go out and meet someone to get lost in. That seems nearly impossible with this job, though. Celebs and musicians are different, they have a few bodyguards who take shifts. A one-on-one job like this is grueling. I look at the time, realizing I need to hop in the shower before she wakes up. I’ve slept here for three nights now, and my back is killing me from that fucking couch. I undress and hop into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me. Once again, my thoughts drift to her, giving me a hard-on. I turn the heat off and stand under the cold spray to try and clear my mind, my breath catching at the sudden drop in temperature.
The sound of humming has me turning around. Our eyes lock. I grin while she places her hand on her mouth and backs out of the bathroom shutting the door. I dry off and wrap a towel around my waist. She’s standing in the corridor, her face flushed.
“Maybe you should consider showering in your own apartment,” She grumbles, looking everywhere but at me.
“And miss this?” I take a step toward her. “You’re blushing, princess.”
“I am not,” she clears her throat, backing away. When she hits the wall, her eyes trail down my body. I place a hand on either side of her head. Maybe I shouldn’t tease her, but her scent is intoxicating, and the way her breath hitches makes me want to keep at it.
“You really want me to shower next door?” I ask, my face inches from hers. Her lips part, and she releases a soft breath. Her eyes close, and by the pebbled nipples poking through her shirt, I know she wants me.
I place a hand on her hips, and she lets out a small moan. “Yes,” she snaps unconvincingly.
I’m so hard right now, I’m barely thinking. I press my nose against her hair then trail it down over her neck. I replace it with my lips, and she visibly shivers. “You like that?” I whisper, kissing the same spot again.
“Mmm…” she moans, looking up at me with a mixture of need and fear in her eyes. I lean in, my lips mere inches from hers, when my phone rings. I push away from the wall, smirking down at her.
She looks down at my towel, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, then rushes past me into the bathroom. Her father’s name on my display is enough to sober me. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have fooled around like that, but something tells me that was only the beginning.
* * *
It’s 6:00 p.m., and she hasn’t come out of the building. The woman at the reception desk packs up her stuff and walks out of the building. “Hey,” I call out.
She stops, and a smile spreads across her face. “You’re Braxton, right? Eliana’s ex?”
I don’t give anything away. “Have you seen her around?”
“She left for the day,” the woman says, her smile not as friendly as I’d initially thought.
“But I didn’t see her leave.”
“Why would you need to?” her brow lifts.
I open my mouth to speak but decide against it.
“A piece of advice, stalking a woman the way you do is hardly the way to get her back.”
I laugh out loud. “Is that what she said? That I’m stalking her?”
“She didn’t have to say anything. I’ve seen you hanging around here on a daily basis. If it wasn’t for her insisting, I’d have called the cops already.”
“Trouble, Kiara?” A security guy I’ve seen around joins us.
“None here,” I turn and walk away.
Opening the door to her apartment, I’m met with silence. I don’t have to call her name to know she isn’t here. I pull out my cell phone and am about to text her when I decide it’ll be a waste. She won’t reply. I open up the tracker app and frown when I see where she is. Quickly changing out of my suit, I put on jeans and a collared gray t-shirt, grab my jacket, and I’m in my car in a few minutes. I haven’t driven my Mustang since I got here; with Eliana working so close to her apartment, it wasn’t necessary, but now she’s a couple of miles away at a club.
Her Benz is still in the parking bay in the underground garage at CJJ, which means she must’ve left with one of her colleagues. How could I have been so stupid? I should have known better when she didn’t leave work at her regular time. I just figured she was busy with the new job.
My jaw clenches, and I have to focus to keep my eyes on the road. Why is she so fucking stubborn?
