Chapter Four
Noemi
Despite my life of privilege, I never acted spoiled—until now.
It’s been three days since Neko Walsh snuck inside my bedroom. Three days of him being my shadow, always right behind me, never close enough. No, he has been the perfect gentleman. Which has been driving me insane.
To be fair, he has catered to each of my whims. Go to the lower market. Go to the park to paint. Stay up late watching old black and white movies I sense he had little tolerance for. Even now, here at this pub downtown, he has given me just what I asked.
I wanted a drink at a dive bar.
Neko brought me here, ordered me an old fashioned, then put distance between us.
It’s no the sticky floors, the awful music, or the scent of desperation that has me in a mood.
It is that damn distance. Since he first let me touch him, I have craved his closeness, craved his touch, and he won’t let me have it.
“Another darlin’,” asks the bartender as he tips his head at the glace I just emptied.
“Yes…yes, I will take another, handsome,” I shoot back with much more confidence than I truly have.
Whether Neko notices or not, my hint of flirtiness leaves the bartender blushing down to his apron. Okay, good—I'm not a total disaster. I thank him for the drink, offering a lingering smile that turns his face an even deeper shade of crimson. Flirting really is so much fun when it works.
Too bad it does not seem to work on Neko. Not since that first day out at the market, at least. My fault—he pissed me off and I showed my uglier sided. I tilt my glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around the ice, but my eyes are fixed on the mirror behind the bar.
Reflected in the glass, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest, is Neko.
He looks as immovable as a marble statue, his usual all black ensemble making him seem a dark, dangerous shadow.
His dark eyes sweep the quiet bar, methodical and entirely indifferent to how I prop myself up for his viewing pleasure.
I sigh, taking a slow sip, and decide to at least have some fun.
Turning, I hop down from the stool, my heels clicking on the shining hardwood.
I glide across the floor, pretending to be as oblivious to his existence as he seems to be to mine.
My pink dress conforms to my curves and I am so glad I got it at the market.
Father would not approve. Hell, he would not approve of anything I’ve done since he hired Neko to protect me.
Neko won’t tell me why my father hired a brand-new detail for me. It’s not as if he has to spell it out. We’ve been through this before. My father hired someone to protect my mother, but it was too late for her. I ought to be more worried about whatever threat is out there looking for me.
To be honest…meeting Neko is the first thing to make me feel alive in a long time. Even if he ignores my flirtations. If he pretends he is just being kind when I ask him to let me have my way. Being with him, having his presence so close now has brought me to life for the first time.
“Lookin’ good, babes,” a rough voice calls, stopping me as I pass through the bar. It’s mostly empty so it’s impossible to miss this man’s words are meant for me.
I stop my stroll towards Neko. Because someone ought to enjoy my flirting if he won’t. Turning back to the man with the thick beard and sleeves of tattoos inked down his thick arms, I offer a smile I hope is playful. His hand comes out to circle my wrist, tugging me closer to his table.
“Well, hi,” I offer, running a hand through my hair. “Can I join you?”
“Sure can,” he shoots back, giving a tug at my wrist.
Before I can stop my forward movement, I topple forward. I land in his lap, his long legs stretched out so mine are tucked between his. I am momentarily trapped. He smells of oil and cigarettes. Not clean soap and good cologne like Neko. Yeah, but Neko doesn’t want you touching him.
That ugly lament echoes in my head, cutting me deep.
I am not a flake of a girl. I do not flirt with my father’s hired hands. I’ve never tried to make any of them notice me or let me touch them, despite how much I crave being touched. Neko is the first man I ever wanted to touch and once he let me…now it’s all I want to do.
“You look bored,” new guy says, tilting his head back so our gazes meet. “Why don’t you let me fix that for you, babes?”
“I think…”
“If you want to keep all your limbs, I think you better take those filthy hands off her, chief.”
It’s whispered low, but dangerously so. I blink up at Neko, flushing when I see how irate he is. Good. Serves him right for pretending he is immune to me. I start to press closer to the fun stranger when his gaze catches mine. I think better of challenging whatever is behind that look.
“Oh yeah? I mean, she came looking for me, bud. Maybe you weren’t doing it for her, yeah?”
“I won’t repeat myself. Miss Noemi, it is time to go,” Neko cuts out.
Miss Noemi. Since he misspoke that day at the market, this is what he calls me. We’re going to be late, Miss Noemi. Don’t try to distract me, Miss Noemi. I am trying to protect you, Miss Noemi.
“Because you said so?” I decide I do want to challenge him after all.
Neko’s entire body is coiled tight. God above, he is a beautiful man. Did my father know what he was doing to me when he hired this beast of a man? Was this some sort of punishment? Teasing me with something the ultimate forbidden fruit—a formidable fruit that does not want me back.
“Yes, because I said so. We’re leaving, now,” he barks, his hand circling the back of my neck.
I cannot hold back the little whimper his touch pulls from deep inside of me. His hand tightens on me, surprising me. I do not hesitate to move. I stumble over my heels, but I push away from the cocky stranger. Neko makes a little rough sound, pulling me to his side.
“Do not play games with me, little girl,” he hisses against my ear.
“Got to put your hands on a woman to get her to obey?”
Neko pushes me behind his big body—no, he adjusts me gently behind him. The stranger stands up, sipping at his beer before he tosses it aside with a crash. I almost laugh. A few days ago, I had never flirted with a man, never dared touch one and now, it looks as if two might come to blows over me.
“Hmm, not at all. This one just happens to prefer my hands on her, chief. I am going to warn you to get lost, this ain’t a fight you want.”
I press against Neko’s back, stunned when one of his arms bends behind him to wrap around me, holding me there. I am shaking from the contact. A starved women given sustenance after a long fast. I burrow closer and smile against his shoulder.
“We’re going now,” Neko announces as if warning the stranger. “Be smart and keep your fucking hands to yourself in the future, chief.”
Then he storms from the tiny bar, leaving the entire bar to stare after us. I am used to being watched. Used to people wondering who I am or why I slip past velvet ropes or get past doors closed to them. This is not the same. They’re not watching a spoiled princess—they’re watching him.
Neko in action is a force of nature. He stalks out of the place as if walking through fire that doesn’t burn him.
He keeps that arm bent to pin me to his back as he cuts through the small crowd to get us outside.
There is a car waiting for us that he loads me into as if I am the most precious thing on earth.
“I…I didn’t mean,” I trail off when he climbs in after me, barking an order at the driver.
“Do. Not. Speak,” his bark is aimed at me now, his eyes dark as he slides close on the back seat of the blacked-out SUV.
I can’t breathe. Neko’s hard body is pressed close, pinning me to the cool leather. I have a drink or two in me, so I am braver than usual. I do not dare speak. I do, however, dare to move. Lifting a hand, I let it drift up his back, over his broad shoulders, diving into his dark hair.
“Do you want me to hurt people? Does the idea of me breaking someone’s fucking hands for touching you turn you on, baby?”
Swallowing hard, I don’t dare break our heated stare. “Yes.”
Neko’s head bows, stunning me as he presses his face against my throat. It is the first contact he has initiated. The first time he has been so close in days. I whimper, my fingers tightening in his hair as I hold him to me. His hand drops between my thighs, and I gasp as it scolds me.
In a way, it does burn. Right to the pulse between my thighs that came to life the moment he showed up in my bedroom. My thighs spread a little and he grunts, his fingertips walking up the bare skin. I cry out when he flips my skirt up, pushing it almost to my hips.
“Fucking rules. Fucking right from wrong,” his voice is raw, rough, his words warm against my throat.
“Who said your rules count with me, Neko?”
His growl of a response ignites something deep inside of me. Low, deep, in the place that craved touch for so long. It was his touch I was seeking without knowing it. Because I held back for twenty-two years. I waited until he showed up, then I could not wait a moment more.
“Neko,” I whimper when his fingertips brush over my panties.
“Shh, be quiet now. We’re breaking the rules remember.”
I bite back a moan when his lips brush over my throat. I almost can’t stop the sound of pleasure when his teeth scrape against my skin next, then sink in, hard. My thighs being to tremble. His fingers push at my panties and I swallow a gasp when he touches me where I ache.
“Ah, fuck. Soaked. For me, yes?” he hums, chuckling as I nod furiously.
Neko’s rough fingertips brush over my swollen clit and my hips rock forward. We’re tangled up on the back seat as the driver heads for home. We’re definitely breaking rules. Rules that were meant to be broken.
Only he goes still suddenly. His mouth is gone from my throat. His warmth moves away. The illicit touch between my thighs is gone. I blink, wondering if I am waking from a fantasy. No, he is there, still close, yet so far away it makes my chest ache.
Because there is something in his eyes as they stare down at me.
Something distant. I’m new to wanting a man, to wanting his touch, his mouth on my skin, his hand between my thighs, but I am not new to that look.
It’s the same look everyone else in my life has when they realize what knowing me, what being close to me could cost them.
Neko shakes his head, his jaw ticking. “You cannot put yourself at risk just to piss me off.”
Just like that, everything in the back of the SUV shifts. The little space between us grows as wide, as deep as the Grand Canyon. The warmth of his mouth, the heat of his touch, the softness in his eyes, it is all gone in a flash. It’s replaced by indifference that cuts me deep.
I am not upset—I am furious.
As soon as the SUV rolls to a stop, I am stumbling from it. I do not even care if we’re home yet. Fortunately for my need for theatrics, we are. I storm up the stone walkway, running from him for the second time in just days. I cannot even look at him because I am terrified of what I might see.
Even if I have no idea how this works, how flirting or dating or wanting someone should work, I am sure he is doing it wrong. You don’t touch someone the way he touched me just now and then stop. You’re not supposed to turn someone on then flick a switch and turn off right before their eyes.
“Miss Noemi we’re not going to break the rules again,” his words follow after me as I reach the front door. “I am not here to play games with a little girl. I am here to protect you. To ensure you stay safe, stay alive.”
Whirling to face him, I cross my arms as I huff. “You're impossible! Do you even have a heart in that big body of yours or was the removal of it what makes you so good at this job?”
“Oh, I have one, it just happens to be worthless, Miss Noemi,” he replies, stepping forward to open the door, gesturing politely for me to go inside
I brush past him, catching the faint scent of soap and cedar that belongs entirely to him. I linger in the doorway just long enough to glance back, searching his eyes for even a flicker of warmth, a crack in the armor, a sign that maybe his heart is not as worthless as he claims.
“I apologize for being foolish back there,” he goes on cooly, not giving me an inch. “It is late, please go to your room while I secure the grounds.”
“You can’t keep me safe from yourself, Neko,” I challenge before I do go inside and up to my room where I pout like the spoiled little girl he sees me as.