Chapter Twelve
The cameras pointing out into the tiny excuse of a carpark flickered, a red dot flashing intermittently, matching the rhythm of the alarm, counting down the time as I pulled the door closed. And then that smell. Spicy and warm, like heated leather with the remnants of aftershave. Not overpowering. Just clean. And now a sudden presence. Eyes boring into me.
He was inches away from me when I turned around, spinning straight into him, like the other night.
“Fuck’s sake, Fury,” I hissed against a chest clad in the cold leather jacket he seemed besotted with. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a security alert.”
“What? How? And even why?”
“The system. System breach notification came to my phone.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s been a system breach.” The big fucker rolled his eyes.
“No. Why have you received the notification on my security system?”
“ My security system,” he added. “I haven’t finished both installs yet. And until I get my payment. It remains mine.”
“I wasn’t paying you for it.”
“Yes, you are. In kind.”
He took another step towards me. No more space between us and the door at my back. But I wouldn’t be fucking intimidated by him. By those dark eyes, and that long hair that now fell about his shoulders, or the tiny indents of dimples in cheeks covered by an immaculately trimmed beard. No. Fucking. Way.
“You gonna let me in to check it out? Or are you just going to push those lovely tits into my chest?”
Heat leapt at my cheeks. Into my stomach. And fuck, somewhere else. I pushed my lips together, anger and need creating a crazy tango inside me. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I knew when I opened my mouth the most pathetic sound would slip out. And he wasn’t getting the satisfaction. Nor was he getting a hold over me.
The key slid easily into the lock, the mechanism inside scraping against itself, stuttering and then unlocking, and the alarm that had only just quieted fired up its warning pips.
“Well, put the code in then,” Fury commanded when I stood to the side to let him through, the sound of those words instructing me grating on every bone in my body.
Yet I didn’t resist, slipping past him and rushing to the keypad just behind the reception desk, the pips ringing in the space even more alarming as they counted down, the threat of the whole system coming alive making my fingers stagger over the buttons, the second attempt finally disarming it.
I hadn’t heard him move in behind me. Hadn’t even felt him. But as I turned, it was right back into that chest, again.
“Wasn’t hard, was it?”
“What?” My voice caught in my throat. Pathetic.
“Doing what I told you.”
I ignored him, treating him to silence and staring up at him, the only illumination coming from the emergency lighting casting a green glow over the profile of his face. The prominent cheekbones. The lips really too full for a man. The scar under the beard. Even in the shadows, I could see the way the hair changed direction, the tiniest bald line running just under the hair on his right cheek.
My chest rose and fell. Tightness grabbing at my ribs, each breath becoming harder to control. Jagged. Uneven. Uncontrolled.
“This intruder, then.” My voice was a whisper. My throat dry.
“Hmmmm,” he hummed in response, and I could feel the vibrations of that noise in my chest.
“You want to go check whether there is one, then?” The whisper continued, the sheer closeness of Fury stealing my voice, knocking me off kilter.
“Uh, huh.”
But he didn’t move, just stood. Staring. Our bodies separated by a tiny gap, his head stooped and mine pushed up towards him, my last act of resistance. My last stand. I could feel his breath on my face, warm and fresh, the slightest hint of mint, lifting the little wisps of hair around my forehead and creating the weirdest buzz through my body.
The sound filled the building. Sheer and horrific. Filling my ears with pain and I jumped backwards, a blunt force hitting my chest where my heart floundered, trying to escape. Run. That’s what I should be doing. And that was all I could hear in my head, run, run, run. But I couldn’t move and nor did I want to.
Fury’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me to him. A reaction. An instinct. Shielding me from something that neither of us could see in the shadows.
“Stay here,” Fury instructed.
“Fuck no!”
“Heidi.”
“No. It’s dark, and I’d be alone. Reckon I’m far safer right next to you, big guy.”
And in the bleating yell of my new alarm, Fury turned. I could barely see him in the dark, but I could feel the hand shove into my hair, grabbing a handful. The sudden pricks in my scalp casting a tingling energy all over my skin, ricocheting off every nerve. I gasped. Too loud. Involuntary. Fury’s grip tightened and his lips brushed mine, the scratch of his beard confusing my brain, which couldn’t decide whether to fight him off or attach my face to him.
And we did neither. Not one of us moving. Standing there with lips a fraction from touching, our breath mingling, both too stubborn to pull away or take the other on.
“Fine. But you do as I say, when I say it. Understand?” His lips moved against mine as he spoke, a beautiful contradiction of satiny smoothness and the sharp prickles from the short hair on his face.
“We’ll see.”
“You’re impossible.” His voice was a growl. “You’re standing here in the dark, a death threat hanging over your head, while someone is breaking into your premises and you’re having a fucking argument with me about following orders.”
“People don’t give me orders.”
“And I’m not fucking people. I’m the Vice President of the Northern Kings MC, an army veteran, and if you want to stay safe tonight, then you’ll do as I say.”
But maybe I didn’t want to stay safe. Maybe, for once in my life, the danger of him was alluring. And fuck knew why.
“Ask rather than order, and you might find you’ll get somewhere.”
I knew I was pushing it. Pushing him. And it was a stupid thing to do. This man I didn’t know. A man always clad in leather, strutting around like he owned the place. A man, Dave, and the receptionist revered to the point of fear. Stupid. Very stupid. But consuming. Addictive. My blood boiled every time I set eyes on him. Half irritation, half something else that I knocked far, far away.
“Behave or I’ll leave you here in the dark.”
“Whatever. Let’s just find out who’s breaking into my building.”
“This way then.”
His hand clasped round mine, hot rough skin scratching at my palm, engulfing me as he tugged me forwards. I wriggled a little, trying to pull away, loosen his grip, but it only tightened. A vice I couldn’t get out of, so for a while I let him lead me on into the dark, manoeuvred so I was a step behind him, covered by his mass as we trailed through the shadows.
The corridor towards the morgue was eerily quiet, both of us holding our breath, listening for anything that might wait for us round the corner. Footsteps. Movement. Anything. But the building was as silent as death itself. Fury pushed each door gently, our bodies flush with the wall, my body protected partially by the doorframe and partially by the huge mass of man that guided me round the dark building, his hand firmly in mine.
And with each step towards the cold room right at the back, my heartbeat quickened, bounding against my ribs, pulsing down my arm, my grip on his hand tightening. I tried to steady my breath, to stop the ragged gasps becoming audible, but the pressure in my chest barely let me pull in enough air to keep me conscious and moving. I staggered on, a whirring sensation in my head. My heels clacked loudly on the linoleum tiles, Fury’s footsteps soft and barely audible, even in the thick-soled boots he always wore.
“Fuck’s sake,” he whispered beside me. “Can you take them off?”
“What?”
“The shoes. Take them off. They’re making far too much noise.”
“I’m not walking along here in bare feet.”
“Take them off or stay here.”
Stopping, he pulled his hand from mine, rough skin scratching as he slid it loose.
“The sound you’re making is enough to wake all those stiffs from their eternal sleep. If you don’t take them off, I will.”
His voice was like smooth gravel, rough enough to cause a shiver down my spine, but painless. Distracting. A memory smouldering in my deepest parts, thrumming a rhythm in my stomach, and down my legs, where he now dropped to on his haunches, fingers wrapping round my ankle and tugging my foot off the floor.
I stifled the squeak and grabbed a handful of his shoulder to steady myself before I teetered backwards. My shoe slid off with a slight nudge, and he reached for the other leg.
“Ok, ok. I got it.”
He didn’t let go, the scratch of the pads of his fingers against the skin of my ankle, as he pushed my suit trousers up, his hand sliding higher.
“Fury, I don’t wear my shoes up there. And there is still someone loose in my office.”
He didn’t move, his hand still on my leg, fingers trailing over the back of my knee, forcing a deep heat into the pit of my stomach.
“Let go,” I barked. “I can do it myself.”
I kicked my leg from his grasp, his fingers brushing my skin as he let go, a hundred thousand energised tingles shooting up my leg quick enough I had to swallow hard to not let the gasp slip out into the darkness between us. He couldn’t see what he was doing to me. If that happened, I would lose all control. He would think he’d won something. Had some hold over me.
Fury stood up; the towering mass of man amplified now I’d shrunk by three inches. And for the first time in his presence, I felt vulnerable. Small. Weak.
“Come on,” he tugged at my hand, and I didn’t need to see his face in the dark to know he was grinning like an arsehole.