I watch her jogging up to me like she doesn’t have a care in the world. As beautiful as she is right now in her jeans and pale blue tank with her hair pulled up on top of her head, I want to spank her ass. She stops two steps down from where I’m perched by the door to her brownstone apartment.
“Where have you been, pet?”
“Running,” she says, her voice breathless.
“Most people run in exercise clothes.”
“Seemed like an expense I didn’t need to worry about. I don’t get to run that often.” She shrugs.
It bothers me. Has she been going without to cover for her damned brother? She can’t run in jeans. It will chaff the inside of her thighs, and since I now have plans for those beauties, that is unacceptable.
“You ran from my bed this morning.”
“You were sleeping. It didn’t seem right to wake you. I needed to get back to my apartment and start my day.”
“You could have started it in my bed.”
“I’m not sure that would have been a good idea.”
“I’m positive it would have been,” I tell her, sliding my fingers along the base of her neck and cupping the side of her face. “Because then I could have started my day in you.” I watch as her eyes dilate as I bring her closer to my lips.
“I can see how that might have been … preferable,” she whispers. Our lips are almost touching and her tongue darts out to lick against my bottom lip. I capture it, bringing it into my mouth. Somehow, her taste is even better this morning. I could be in trouble with this girl because just this has calmed the anger I had building inside me upon finding her gone. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue play and becoming familiar with her again.
“That’s better,” I tell her when our lips break apart.
“Good morning to you, too,” she tells me.
“You sneaking out on me is unacceptable, pet.”
“I needed to get back to my world and find my brother,” she says.
Her words put me on edge. “I told you I would help you do that.”
“I know, but we kind of got distracted, and I know you just agreed to help me to—”
“To what?”
“Get in my pants.”
“And you figure now that I’ve achieved that, I won’t worry about your brother?”
“Something like that,” she admits. I let my thumb move back and forth over her cheek, studying her. With any other woman, she’d be right.
“You gave yourself to me, pet. I’ll take care of you, and that means helping you find your brother.”
Her eyes study me and I can see distrust in her eyes. She has good reason to feel like that. It doesn’t mean I like it, however.
“I’ll trust you.” Why does it feel like she’s telling much more than what her words are saying? What is this woman doing to me? “Where do we start?” she asks.
“Breakfast, pet. Then we’ll discuss business.”
For a second I think I see disappointment in her eyes, but she nods her agreement. I take a step away from her, which isn’t easy. I hold out my hand, and something shifts inside of me when she places her small hand in mine and squeezes it.