Chapter 6 #2
“She hasn’t been seen in two days, and her phone’s off. Deviant’s trying to find a digital trail but wants to meet with you. See if you can remember anything that might help.”
Her eyes filled with horror, and her hands pressed to her stomach like she needed to physically hold herself together. “Oh no. No, no. She’s so sweet. And kind. Who would…why?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” I stepped forward to pull her into my embrace. She came willingly, burying her face against my chest like it was her safest place.
And it was .
There was nowhere that Gemma belonged more than in my arms. I held her tighter than I meant to. But she didn’t protest or try to break away. My hands splayed across her lower back, fingertips brushing the top of her jeans.
She felt so fucking right . Fitting perfectly against me. Another confirmation that she was made to be mine.
My woman. Old Lady. Wife.
I wanted to hold her like this every fucking day for the rest of my life.
Eventually, she pulled back with a shaky breath.
“I should—I need to work,” she whispered. “I need to keep busy and try not to spiral.”
I didn’t want to let her go, but I did. Barely.
She stepped away and moved toward her computer, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt.
At first, I searched for something to say, then I realized that the silence between us wasn’t strained by tension. It was comfortable and easy. Like simply being in each other’s company was all we needed.
I adjusted the bulge in my jeans and went to work setting up the final security feeds in the studio. I used the same method I would for any high-level asset.
Except this wasn’t any client. This was Gemma. And that made what I found next a hell of a lot worse.
Buried in a light fixture above the chaise lounge, so small I nearly missed it, was a bug.
The device wasn’t high-tech, but it was expensive enough to have decent audio. I looked closer. And video.
Fuck!
My entire body went still, then tight with fury.
They’d been listening to her.
Fucking watching her.
For who the fuck knew how long.
My jaw locked, and I turned to stare at Gemma’s silhouette as she sat at her desk in the corner, the light catching her profile.
They’d been spying on her.
On my woman.
My pulse turned to thunder.
It didn’t matter that she’d only been mine for a day. Or that she didn’t even know it yet. This motherfucker was gonna suffer. No one fucked with the people I cared about. Especially not the woman who belonged to me.
After taking a picture and sending it to Deviant, I snapped the bug in two, crushing the pieces in my fist as I marched across the room.
Gemma turned, startled. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not staying here.”
She stood, blinking in confusion. “What?”
“You’re moving to the Iron Rogues compound. Tonight.” My voice was hard, leaving no doubt that I wouldn’t budge on this.
Her head cocked to the side, and her brows drew together. “Wait. What? No. I have clients. A business. I can’t just?—”
“You can,” I snarled. “And you will. End of discussion.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue more, but something in my expression made her close them again.
The last thing I wanted to do was make Gemma scared to be in a place that was usually her sanctuary. But she deserved to know why I was putting my foot down about this.
“The studio was bugged, baby. For the moment, you’re not safe here.”
Gemma gasped and covered her mouth with one hand as her brown eyes filled with tears.
I hated that I’d put that look on her face, so I softened my voice when I spoke again.
“You can work, but I’ll be with you.” I held up my hand when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “Not inside the studio. I’ll be just outside. Watching. Because not one motherfucker is gonna come near you unless I say so.”
She hesitated and glanced around with a defeated expression. Then she nodded slowly. “Okay. And I’ll reschedule what I can.”
I inclined my head in appreciation for her meeting me halfway.
“But I won’t let this bastard derail my whole life,” she snapped.
“He won’t,” I said, my voice dark. “Won’t live long enough for that.”
Her eyes grew wide, but she didn’t comment on my threat. Instead, her shoulders drooped, and she gave me a soft smile. “I know you’re only doing this because of Lainie, but I’m really grateful for your help.”
My head popped up, and I growled, “Not doing it for Lainie.”
Gemma hesitated, her expression puzzled. “Then…why?”
I prowled toward her, slow and deliberate. Backing her up until she hit the wall.
Then I braced one hand beside her head and the other on her round hip. Our eyes locked, and for the first time, I didn’t mask the raw hunger, the primal need I felt for her. “I protect what’s mine.”
Her breath caught, her skin flushed, and her irresistible lips parted.
My control shattered, and I kissed her.
Hard. Possessive. A fucking claiming.
Her body melted against mine, and I deepened the kiss, letting her feel just a fraction of the heat burning inside me.
My hands glided over her hips, down to her thighs, lifting her off her feet.
I braced her back against the wall and ground my steel shaft against her hot center.
She arched into me with a whimper, her fingers gripping my shirt as though she was afraid I might disappear.
I wasn’t going any-fucking-where. However, this wasn’t the right time to give in to our passion. Cursing a blue streak in my head, I pulled back just enough to let her slide along my body as I set her back on her feet.
Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead to hers, trying to calm my racing heart. Her panting breaths rubbed her big tits against my chest, and I groaned in acute frustration.
When I could speak again, I grunted. “Pack your shit, baby.”
“Why?” she whispered, dazed.
“Because if we stay here another minute, I’m gonna throw you on that bed and fuck you so hard the cameras will melt.”