Chapter 8David
8
David
I turn the key in the lock and step into the foyer of the condo. It’s quiet and at first, I think that Hazel might have skipped out on her end of the bargain. My heart sinks a little at the idea of her ditching me.
I set the keys down on the side table when I’m distracted by the muffled sound of heavy breathing. I stop walking, my heart jumping into my throat.
“Hazel?” I place my hand on the back of my gun clip, ready to pull it out. The noise comes again, louder this time, as if someone is moaning. In pain?
Adrenaline surges through my bloodstream and I spring into action, barreling down the hallway without a second thought toward the noises coming from the bedroom.
A million scenarios play out through my brain of Hazel in the bedroom alone, trying to fight off an intruder. I knew I should have insisted that someone stay with her while I went out to conduct my meeting with Oleg.
Oleg!
Is he responsible for putting her in danger? My jaw clenches with a fresh wave of rage, and guilt. There were no signs of forced entry coming into the house. I keep my address private, even from my most trusted captains, which Oleg is definitely not on that list. Did he follow me here? If so, how did he get in? We’re on too high a floor for him to climb up and crawl through a window.
It seems unlikely that he’s in the bedroom with Hazel, but I’m thinking the worst, and hoping he isn’t that stupid to cross me after what just happened.
Hazel definitely isn’t crazy enough to let a strange man into the condo, especially when she knows her life is at risk since the gunfight at the warehouse.
I burst through the bedroom door, the intense need to protect Hazel fueling all my movements. I lift my gun and point it around the room, eyes scanning for any threats I might need to take down.
Hazel is laying on the bed. She’s alone. Her cheeks are pink, and her hair is askew, tumbling over her shoulders.
The bed is unmade, and most of her body is under the sheet. Her knees are bent and pointing up toward the ceiling, her legs spread wide open.
One hard nipple pops out from the sheet and when she jerks her head up and spots me, her eyes go from glazed and relaxed to wide and wild, snapping in my direction.
She’s panting hard.
I rush over to the bed, shoving the gun back beneath my pants again. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
My eyes move over her. She’s trembling. Her eyes are as wide as the moon, and she can’t seem to catch her breath. Her pink lips are parted. She stares at me, stunning, and stunned.
Her legs immediately snap shut but I can see through the thin fabric that her hand is between her thighs.
“What’s going on?” My eyes skim from her legs to her face and that’s when I realize what’s happening.
Guilt and embarrassment crawl across her face and I realize the initial pinkness of her cheeks was coming from pleasure, not pain. And now the color is blooming to a dark crimson.
She yanks the bedsheet up around her naked body and snaps, “I’m fine. What are you doing back so early?”
The thoughts in my brain go cloudy, and I’m being strangled by my own desire. I tread across the room, setting the gun on the dresser. I need a minute to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were hurt. I heard noises coming from in here.”
“ Private noises,” she says, and I can hear the humiliation in her voice. She avoids my gaze. “You invaded my privacy.”
I turn around and start walking back over to where she’s still lying naked under that flimsy sheet. She’s still breathing hard, and her eyes are glazed with lust and confusion.
“I can make it up to you,” I tell her through the pounding in my skull.
She gives me a skeptical look. “In what way?”
“I can help you finish.”
Her breathing gets rapid again, and her eyes are frantic. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stare at her, watching a flint of longing go through her eyes. I stand my ground, waiting.
She licks her lips, and her fingers brush over her collarbone. She’s shaking, peering at me as if waiting to call my bluff, but I’m serious. That kiss is still heavy on my mind, and I can’t block it out.
“That’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of making myself come.” She sniffs and looks out the window, a defensive tone in her voice.
“Clearly.” My heart is blazing with yearning. “But sometimes it’s more fun with another person.”
Her brows furrow. She’s frustrated. “The mood is over, now.”
“Let me help you get it back,” I try again.
“I said I don’t need any help.” Her features are bleak as if she doesn’t believe or trust herself.
“I know you don’t need it. Maybe we could have fun together,” I suggest instead. Maybe if I’m doing it too, she won’t be as shy.
I have this possessive craving for her that’s sending me to another dimension in my mind. I want to touch her between her legs and feel the warmth and the wetness gushing on my fingers.
I want to watch her face and look into her eyes as she comes hard on my hand. My cock strains in my pants at the idea of it. I know it’s too intimate and she won’t let me, but it’s a fantasy I’m hoping will eventually happen.
Hazel looks down. I lift her chin with my fingers, but she wiggles away from me, tightening the sheets around her naked frame. “Don’t.”
“Hazel, just listen.” I do my best to be gentle with her, but my desire is a pulsing giant. I want her. Badly. My self-control is collapsing like a house of cards.
“You should go,” she whispers, still refusing to look me in the eye.
“Are you sure?” I don’t want to pressure her, but the pressure of wanting to watch her moan and orgasm is threating to crush me.
“I’m…” she trails off, then releases a half sigh, half groan. “I’m sure. Please. This is embarrassing enough.”
“It doesn’t need to be embarrassing,” I tell her. “It’s perfectly natural to play with yourself. It’s sexy.”
She looks at me like I’m sprouting another head in front of her. “Well, it is embarrassing.
For me. I don’t know what kind of women you are normally around, but I don’t masturbate in front of strange men.”
Her comment grates under my skin, but I don’t let it show. “I’m hardly a strange man.”
“Well, you’re not my lover,” she argues. “And we are supposed to just be working together.”
“Maybe we could change that,” I suggest, even though I know what the answer will be. “Or, change the rules of our work relationship.”
Hazel’s jaw gets tight. “Professional only. You don’t get to change the rules just because it’s your house. It’s…”
“I know, it’s what we both agreed to,” I finish her sentence for her. “Sorry for my reaction, but when I see a naked woman getting herself off in my bed, my immediate reflex is to want to jump in and help.”
“I’m guessing that’s a regular occurrence for a bratva boss?” She winces as if she’s waiting for a physical blow to come.
I dare to sit on the edge of the bed, but when I reach for her, she shakes her head, and I see her mental walls go up. Her eyes flash with warning.
“Just go. Leave me alone.” She sounds resigned.
I hesitate for a moment more, but when she cuts me another warning look not to mess with her anymore, I slowly rise, backing across the room. I have my hand on the doorknob when I look at her over my shoulder.
“If you change your mind, I’ll be out here.” I shut the door behind me and stand outside of it, ears perked and waiting.
Disappointment drizzles through me when I don’t hear any noises or movements. After a few seconds, I give up and walk away, trying to untwist the knots of desire that are forming in my stomach.
This woman is turning into my weakness, and I’m afraid of what will happen to me if my guard goes down too quickly.