11. Jet #2
She looks at it like she’s almost afraid of it. When I gesture for her to take it again, she does and holds it close. Still keeping one eye on me, she grabs the purse up from the sofa and opens it.
“Where are the other things that were inside?”
I make a point of peering into it and point out the objects I left in there. “Your lipstick’s right there and—”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. There was another notebook. And two phones.” She tucks the diary safely inside.
“You’ll get them back once you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here. Now let’s go. I don’t want my pastry getting cold.”
“Fuck your pastry and fuck you. I need those things.”
“Fuck me?” I ask with a snort, stepping toward her. Looming over her. She shrinks back looking at me like I don’t expect her to. Like she did the night she thought I’d hurt her. She sees the man I’ve become. The Devil. I back off. “Be careful, Little Virgin. Let’s go.”
“You don’t understand. I need those things!”
“Once you tell me why and what you’re doing here, we’ll discuss.”
“You don’t—”
“I’m being patient with you, Amal, but don’t push your luck.
” I tell her. I bend to pick up her duffel, but she shoves me, trying to get my attention, I guess.
“See now that’s pushing your luck.” I grip her arm, spin her around and smack her ass.
She yelps, her free hand covering her butt as I turn her to face me again.
“More of that to come in a little bit. Remember your vow of obedience.” I release her and pick up the duffel. “Let’s go.”
She doesn’t quite know how to respond. I see it on her face which is growing red with fury as her hands clench into fists and she grits her teeth, digging her heels in.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Jet. You don’t have the right to take my things!”
“No?” I drop the bag, patience worn out.
“Everything that was yours is mine now. Including you. And as far as this being a joke,” I start, walking her backwards.
“What about anything I’ve done gave you the impression any of this is a joke to me?
” She matches each of my steps in the opposite direction until her back hits the wall.
“You stole something from me you have no idea about. In the meantime, I’m trying to keep my fucking promise to you to keep you safe because I guess I’m just that kind of guy! ”
“I never asked you to.”
“Well, I guess I did anyway. Now tell me, Amal. Tell me what the fuck makes you think any of this is remotely funny to me.”
She sets her hands against my chest to push me away. “I told you I’d get your watch back. I didn’t have a choice when I took it.”
“You had a choice. You chose wrong. Do you know how fucking hard it’s been keeping your location a secret from Cassian until I got to you?” I say, slamming my hands flat to the wall on either side of her head, making her jump. “Until I made sure I could keep my promise to you?”
“By forcing me to marry you? Who the hell is going to keep me safe from you?”
That hits like a slap to my face and I find my hands turning to fists against the wall. “Safe from me? You really think I’d hurt you?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“It’s what you do now, isn’t it? You’re an enforcer. The Devil, they call you. I know. I know all about it. Allegra told me all about it, Jet.”
“Did she?” I hear myself ask. My gaze narrows on her. What she’s saying, well, I can’t deny any of it. Though inadvertent, I built a reputation for myself. All that rage, that fury inside me, it needed an outlet and I guess I found it. “I’m not your devil, Amal,” I say.
“Aren’t you? Look at you. Look at us.” She gestures to the window in which we’re reflected and I see us. She, a tiny thing. A lost little thing. And me. The Devil in my long black coat, twice her size, looming over her.
Casting my dark shadow over her.
I back off a little. Just a little. I take in the wildly jumping pulse at her neck. She’s pressed herself as far as possible against the wall, her hands on my chest to hold me back. As if she could. I feel them on me now, like two brands burning into my flesh through my shirt.
“You’re afraid of me?” I ask her, my voice a rumble.
She swallows, her non-answer answer enough.
I feel it deep in my gut. I draw a tight breath in, and I swear I can smell her fear, but beneath that, something else. Excitement. Arousal even. And I breathe it in like it’s the sweetest nectar.
But I could never hurt her. Not her. It’s been like this with her from the first minute so many years ago.
“I am your protector, Amal. I’ve always been your protector. I killed a man for you last night. Outside your door. It’s not the first time. Blood stains my hands for you.” I lean toward her. “For. You.”
Silence falls heavy around us.
“Do you understand that?” I ask in that same low voice.
When she doesn’t answer right away, I feel a need, an ache, to touch her.
To feel her skin against mine. I pull my hand from the wall and when she flinches, I pause, my eyes on hers.
I take a lock of her hair and feel the silk of it. The weight of that curl.
“And I’d do it again,” I say, searching her face, my gaze dropping to her mouth. She licks her lips, and when I meet her gaze again, the blue of her eyes is darker.
She swallows hard, hands no longer pushing me away, fingertips searching, feather light and delicate on me.
“Kiss me, Amal.”
Her breathing is audible, and her hands are clutching my shirt, holding on to me to stay upright.
I slide one arm behind her, cupping the back of her head, fingers weaving into a tangle of curls. Hand turning into a fist. I tug her head back, bring my face to within an inch of hers. We’re so close I smell her scent, bergamot masking the heady scent of fear. Of desire.
“I said kiss me,” I whisper against her ear, dragging my lips across her cheek to her mouth.
“Kiss. Me.” I demand, but don’t wait for her to comply.
Instead, I take. And it’s not the chaste kiss that sealed our vows.
This kiss, it’s to taste this woman who was a girl when I first laid eyes on her.
Who has grown into this frightened yet fierce thing.
The woman who was always going to be mine.
And the taste of her lips, her gasp when my tongue licks hers… fuck me.
Fuck. Me.
She makes a sound, a moan, and when I pull back, she nearly stumbles into me. I set my forehead against hers. I am as breathless as she. Our eyes lock and for a long moment, the only sound in the room is that of our breathing.
“You belong to me now, Little Virgin. You are my wife. I will claim you hard tonight and you will know you are mine in here.” I draw back, setting the flat of my hand against her chest, over her heart. “After tonight, you will never again doubt that you are mine.”
She swallows, blinks. I take a step away and wrap one arm around her to tug her to me.
“And Amal, if you ever try to run from me again, I will find you. I will find you and I won’t be so gentle when I bring you back.”