Chapter 18
Colson
When I open my eyes again, I can tell it’s morning even though the thick drapes in Specter’s bedroom block most of the light. I scrub my hand over my face as memories of my aborted escape plans return. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to go somewhere.
Specter is intense, and for a guy so stoic, his overwhelming interest in me seeped into my skin until I wanted to crawl out of it. I’ve never met someone like him. He won’t let me leave, won’t let me run, and I can’t decide whether I like that or not.
Can I believe him that he doesn’t want to take away who I am? Can that be true? Can I somehow remain intact and give myself over to him at the same time?
Forcing the spiraling thoughts away, I roll to my side, but the bed is empty. I sit up, glancing around the room. He’s not here. I’m about to slip out of bed when I see a note on the nightstand beside me. I unfold it, taking in the strangely neat handwriting.
Morning Gorgeous,
There are tea bags if you want them. Coffee is downstairs in the kitchen. I’m also downstairs. I can show you the gym and the indoor pool today. If you need something extra like a massage, I can get it scheduled for you. If you’re hungry, let me know and I’ll get breakfast for you.
I hope you slept well. You look like a goddamn angel. A hauntingly dark angel. You belong here in my bed, my home, my life. But I will give you the space you need. Just don’t try to leave again. I can’t bear it.
~S
I read it a second time, the written words unraveling the knot in my chest. At least he can respect some boundaries. I suppose that’s a start.
Climbing out of bed, I stretch my neck back and forth.
His bed is nice, luxurious, and I could get used to it.
Should I? Is there a way that this thing with him is a temporary blip, and that someday not far from now, I’ll be back in my cold, tiny apartment in a sketch part of town with only the memory of his intensity?
Will it burn out once he’s had his fill or does he believe the words he says?
I mean everything I say literally.
His words resurrect in my memory. He must mean it. He may be a lot of complicated things, but I don’t believe a liar is one of them.
I shuffle to the bathroom and start the shower while I brush my teeth even though I took a lovely bath after Specter turned me inside out with his fingers alone last night. My mind won’t allow me to imagine what his dick will feel like. I somehow don’t think my imagination is capable of it anyway.
The heat of the shower melts away some of the remaining tension in my shoulders, and afterward, as I dry my hair, I gaze at my reflection in the steamy mirror. The bruise is almost completely gone now, and I look good. Well rested. The tension in my brow is gone, my skin smooth.
Of course. Just give me more reasons not to resist Specter’s intrusion in my life.
You called me.
Ugh, he’s right.
Back in the bedroom, I dress in a pair of leggings and my favorite oversized sweater. I’ll have some coffee then check out the promised gym. If there’s a ballet barre that would be ideal, but I can work with just about anything. I just need to stretch before my muscles lock up on me.
I walk downstairs, my eyes flitting in every direction as I find my way to the kitchen at the back of the house. It’s quiet. Very quiet. I wonder if anyone is here.
I step into the kitchen, clearly interrupting Shadow and his man, Bellamy, who’s perched on the island with an adoring Shadow standing between his legs. The two of them are so enthralled with each other they haven’t noticed me.
Doing my best to avoid detection, I keep my attention on the coffee bar to the left of where I’m standing, and as quietly as possible pad to it to get some much-needed caffeine.
“Oh, good morning.” Bellamy’s happy voice fills the space. “Cashmere, right?”
I turn and nod, offering a slight smile. “That’s right. Good morning. Sorry if I’m interrupting.”
“You’re not,” Shadow says, even though his tone is so flat I couldn’t begin to decide whether he meant that or not. “Specter is in the rec room if you’re looking for him.”
“Thank you.” I pour my coffee and fiddle with the cream and sugar, aware of both men’s eyes on me.
“You have beautiful hair,” Bellamy says. “I’m jealous.”
I scoff, shaking my head as I lift the steaming liquid to my lips. “You really don’t need to be jealous. You’re stunning.”
“I agree,” Shadow says, brushing his lips along Bellamy’s soft jaw.
Bellamy blushes a bit. “Our boys have good taste, huh?”
Boys? That’s the last word I would use to describe Specter or Shadow, but it is kind of cute.
“They do.” I lift my mug slightly. “Gonna go find him. See you later.”
Bellamy waves happily at me as I take my leave. As I move closer to the rec room, I hear muffled voices, deep and deadly. A shiver runs down my back, and when I lay eyes on Specter, that shiver moves between my legs, igniting a surge of heat. Awesome, all I have to do is look at him now?
His eyes find me and he gestures to Wraith and another man whose name I don’t recall. All three of them look at me as Specter waves me closer.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Specter says. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.” I glance at Wraith, then turn away quickly. He’s the one who ratted me out last night. At least I assume he did.
“You remember Foster?” Specter says.
“Nimble,” he corrects, offering his hand.
I shake it and smile. “New name?”
He smiles, nodding. “Finally picked one.”
I sip my coffee. “Is there a rule about not using your actual names?”
“It’s best we keep those under wraps, given our profession,” Wraith says. “If we ever fuck up and say someone’s code name, finding someone called Wraith is real different from Phillip.”
“Is your name Philip?” Nimble asks, incredulous.
“No.” Wraith chuckles. “Just an example.”
“Alright, yeah, ’cause you definitely don’t look like a Phillip.”
I’m suddenly very curious about what Specter’s real name is. He knows mine, and a part of me wants to know what it would sound like on his lips, but that would tear away my last line of defense. My name means a lot to me, which is why I don’t give it out freely.
“I was gonna go to the gym,” I murmur. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course.” Specter glances at his watch. “You’ve got about another hour before it gets busy.”
My brow creases. “What do you mean?”
“The guys will likely be down there around eleven. That’s pretty typical.”
“Oh. Everyone’s asleep?”
“Or something.” Wraith winks at me.
“Right. Okay.”
“Be right back,” Specter says, turning in my direction.
He leads me down a hallway to a door. After opening it, he stands to the side to allow me to pass. I follow the stairs down, noticing how the scent changes. I can smell the metallic scent of weights, cleaning products, and just a hint of chlorine.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I pause, taking it all in.
Holy shit. I was expecting some quaint little home gym, but that’s not what this is.
It’s massive, with a tiled floor, mirror-lined walls, and just about any piece of equipment you could want.
Through a wall of glass I spot the indoor pool.
“There’s a sauna back there too,” Specter says. “Dry and wet.”
I whistle low, walking around the space. “This is impressive.”
“We don’t have a lifestyle that makes it easy for us to go to a regular gym, but it’s important that we stay in good shape. We’ve had this for about three years.”
I spot a place against one of the mirrors that would be perfect for a barre, but obviously, they don’t have one.
“Does it have what you need?”
“I can make do.”
He turns to face me. “I don’t want you to make do. I want you to have what you need.”
Should I ask?
“Tell me.”
“A ballet barre is helpful. Or a pole. Don’t suppose you have one of those around here.”
“Not down here.”
“Wait. Does someone have a pole?”
He nods. “Phantom. I’m sure he’d let you use it but I’d rather you didn’t.”
“I’d rather not work out in someone’s bedroom either.”
“So a barre and a pole. What else?”
“Um, a mat or two. Everything else is perfect. I can do my cardio and my strength training. The other things are to practice my routines.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
A protest rises immediately in my chest. “You don’t have to. I don’t expect you to modify your permanent space for me. It’s wasteful.”
A knowing smile spreads across his sexy face, and last night’s confrontation rushes back into my mind. To him, I’m a permanent part of this space too.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Not yet. I’m gonna stretch a bit, I think.”
He nods, walking across the space and sitting on a workout bench.
I watch as he retrieves his phone from his pocket.
He’s very casually dressed, in just black athletic pants and a white T-shirt, but damn is he hot.
The knowledge that I have full access to him is heady.
I can touch him, kiss him, invite him to fuck me, whenever I want to.
I finish off my coffee, then start my stretching routine. Sitting on the floor, I work my calves, glutes, and hip flexors. Tonight’s performance is pole based, which I love, but it also takes a lot out of me. I should probably do some free weights to prime my muscles.
When I glance at Specter, he’s tapping on his phone, his brow creased with concentration.
Does he have a lot of money or is it somehow communal like the living arrangements?
I can’t decide how I feel about him spending money on me.
Outside of the club, I generally don’t allow it.
I’ve learned the hard way that when men spend money they expect full access, but Specter is different. He expects my full access regardless.
I shake my head as I bend forward and touch my forehead to the floor, increasing the stretch in my hamstrings.
I’m so in over my head, but what are my options?
Even if I somehow slipped past him, where would I go?
My own apartment is likely a very bad idea, and I don’t have many other choices.
That’s what led me to call him in the first place.
What I can’t figure out is why I still want to run. Shouldn’t I be soaking this up? I mean, I’m living in a damn mansion, for fuck’s sake, with a sexy as hell man catering to my every whim. What is in me that makes me see this as danger instead of safety?
“Hi, yes, I have questions.”
Specter’s voice cuts into my reverie. I discreetly watch him as I move through my stretches, pretending I’m not paying attention as he asks about delivery schedules.
“And you have mats too? What sizes?” He nods, his gaze flicking up to me.
I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.
“Perfect. Can I pay for priority shipping and install?” He nods again, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Tomorrow? Excellent.”
I watch him navigate the transaction, ignoring the enormous amount of money he must’ve just dropped for me. When he ends the call, he crosses the space, stopping at my feet and towering over me. I suddenly feel very small.
“The barre, pole, and mats will be delivered and installed tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” is all I manage.
“Avec plaisir.”
I tilt my head at his use of French. “Ah. Quand as-tu appris le francais?”
He chuckles, scratching his jaw. “I have no idea what you just said.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “I asked when you learned to speak French, but I suppose you haven’t.”
“Looked up a couple of words.”
“Like?”
“Tu es exquis.”
His accent, or lack thereof, is adorable. He sounds uncomfortable and a bit clumsy, but if he was going for brownie points with me, he earned them.
“Tu es étrange et déroutant, et pourtant l'homme le plus beau que j'aie jamais vu, avec un c?ur d'or. Une surprise pour un tueur.”
Specter’s gaze heats as he listens to me, and he kneels down so we’re face to face. “That is fucking sexy.”
“You like that I can speak French?”
“So far, there isn’t a damn thing I don’t like about you.” He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers under my chin. “What did you say?”
I smile, keeping my words to myself. I’m not ready to say it in English. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”
“Or maybe I’ll learn. Are you fluent?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure anymore. The basics are still there, knocking around my head, but I don’t use it much.”
“Do you want to?”
Beaucoup.
“Yes.”
Specter nods, studying my eyes. His gaze is so intense, and my body reacts to it, heating up as sparks of electricity prickle across my skin.
“I want to make you happy, Cashmere. I want to make you feel everything I see when I look at you.”
“You still don’t really know me. Maybe I’m not worth all this trouble.”
He smiles, just slightly. “Maybe I like trouble. It’s kind of what I do.”
How can I argue with that?
“I’m going to go upstairs now and give you space, but I’d love it if you found me when you’re done here so we can have lunch together.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I have to work tonight,” he says softly, his voice tight now. “I shouldn’t be long, but you won’t be alone. Phantom and Ghost will hang out at Segreto until I’m available again.”
My teeth graze my bottom lip as my chest floods with curiosity. “Are you gonna kill someone tonight?”
“It depends on lots of things.”
“Like?
“If the situation works. I have to calculate a lot of things. Witness potential, ease of access, ability to get away unseen.”
This is the part where I should be afraid of entangling my life with a killer’s, but I can’t find the good sense to feel that.
“Okay” is all I say, already aware that fighting him on any aspect of what he said is a fool’s mission. I need to save my energy for my performance later, not use it arguing with a man whose sole mission in life apparently is keeping me safe.
His smile grows, just a bit, and I wonder what a full, genuine smile would look like on that pretty mouth of his.
“See you soon,” Specter says, eyes still boring into me.
“à plus tard.”
I watch him walk out and exhale slowly to center myself again. Jesus, this man. I can’t fully wrap my head around his attention, but it’s become very clear that I better get used to it because he doesn’t plan to let up.
And maybe, for once in my life, this is a good thing.