Chapter Nine #2
“Thank you for trusting me.” We stop at the back of the car. I’m impressed with his process, and watch him in fascination. “What are you going to do with the body?” I ask as he closes it inside a hiding spot.
“Make it disappear.” He closes the back and walks me to the passenger side door. “The night before we met, I killed a man. Bash let me use a building to dispose of him. I suppose I’ll have to ask him again.”
“I wondered if you knew each other. I noticed you were friendly.” I get in, and he pauses, standing in the open door.
“I don’t know if I would describe our new connection as friendly.
” He smirks, leans close, and pulls the seatbelt across my body.
I suck in my stomach as his hand grazes my shirt.
I have the urge to lean close and soak up his warmth.
“I’m determined, though,” he says softly, clicking the lock.
“He needs another friend.” I giggle, and he winks.
He shuts the door, and I take the time it takes him to get in the driver's seat to attempt to calm my racing heartbeat.
“How do you make it disappear?”
“An assortment of chemicals.”
“Do I get to watch?” I ask.
“No. You get to go home.”
“That’s probably best,” I mumble. “Does he melt?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Yes,” he laughs.
“Gross,” I say.
“Very. You get used to it.”
“I don’t think I could.”
“I won’t hold it against you.”
“Good.” I look out the window. “I won’t be sad that he is gone. He shouldn’t have the privilege of breathing,” I whisper.
“I never feel sadness. The men I kill are despicable. They don’t deserve forgiveness or our sympathy.
I sleep well after a contract, knowing the world is a little bit safer.
” He sighs. “I will never make a huge difference. There are too many bad guys, but I like to think someone is sleeping easier with their abuser gone.”
“I’m glad they have you.” I look at him. “You’re incredible at the work you do.”
“Thanks, baby,” he whispers, glancing at me briefly.
“I wish there were a man like you when I needed to be safe,” I say softly.
His hand tightens on the wheel.
“I’m here now,” he says gruffly.
Yes, he is, and I’m beginning to believe he’s here to stay.
“That actually happened,” I whisper, staring at my image in the mirror. I shake my head and grab my toothbrush. “My mate is melting a body.” I turn on the faucet and squeeze toothpaste onto the bristles. “I helped him kill a man.” I huff and brush. “He did most of the work.”
Ezra is mysterious, skilled, honorable, trustworthy, and more attractive than any man I have ever seen.
I’ve never been a woman turned on by power, yet watching my mate in action today makes me warm all over.
He was confident with every action. The humans in the world would find something wrong with wanting to kiss a man while he kills someone.
Right or wrong, Ezra makes me feel things that I’ve never felt.
I spit into the sink and rinse before leaving the bathroom.
Moving to my dresser, I study my pajamas.
I have an obsession with nightwear. Grabbing a yellow silk nightgown, I strip quickly and slide the silk over my head.
I can admit I chose the color because it reminds me of Ezra’s eyes.
Turning with my hands on my hips, I look around my bedroom, and don’t know what to do with myself.
He told me he would call when he was done.
How long does the melting take? I move to the bed and lean over, looking at my books.
I could choose one and snuggle under the covers.
He’ll call when he calls. I trail my fingers over the spines, unsure what I’m in the mood for.
A good paranormal usually does the trick.
Even though I have read all of them, I still get sucked into the story.
Sighing, I stand straight and climb onto the mattress.
Nothing suits the moment when all I can think about is Ezra.
Once we drove into town, he told me I could take off the mask.
It was an interesting sensation. When I wore it, I felt hidden and invincible.
In the moment, I could act like someone else.
I didn’t think about the past, my trauma, or the fear that has leaked into every part of my life for too long.
All that mattered was Ezra and the task Shade gave us.
The blonde wig is tossed on my dresser, and it makes me wonder if my mate would want me for a partner, permanently. I could do all his contracts with him.
I picture his strong hands as he controlled everything, and I tingle.
Shit, he doesn’t have to be in the room for me to desire him.
I trace my lips, staring at the ceiling, thinking about his kiss.
I’ve never allowed a man to tell me what to do, and even though it was an extreme situation, I didn’t mind Ezra doing it.
I was willing to follow his orders, perhaps because he was the experienced one.
He knew what needed to happen, and he protected me with every move.
I slide my hand to my chest, pressing my palm between my breasts.
He is my mate, and the heat of the mating bond is growing.
I know if my body doesn’t get relief from him, eventually, it will become painful.
Pleasuring myself won’t solve the problem, but it may take the edge off until I have the confidence to let him help.
I trail my palm down, applying pressure to my stomach, picturing Ezra in his baseball cap.
He doesn’t try to be sexy, he just is, and it makes him even more so.
I inhale sharply as I move lower, tracing the edge of my underwear.
Should I dare? I grab a fistful of my hair and, with my other hand, slowly pull up my nightgown.
The hem reaches my thigh. I’m warm, and I lick my lips.
My phone rings, and I jerk my hand away. Rolling, I almost fall off the bed reaching for it on the nightstand, barely slapping my hand to the wood in time. I see Ezra’s name, and grip the phone.
“Ezra,” I breathe. Swallowing hard, I inch across the bed, settling in the middle.
“Rylee,” he says, and pauses. “Were you busy, baby?”
“What? No. Why would I be busy?” I push down my nightgown.
“You sounded out of breath,” he drawls, and I clear my throat.
“I was waiting for your call.” I lay my arm across my forehead. He knows. The man can see into my brain.
“Hmm…”
“How did it go?” I ask, closing my eyes. Hearing his voice isn’t helping me calm down.
“It went well. Job's done.”
“Are you at the hotel?”
“Not yet.”
“Are you tired?” I have resorted to small talk.
“Not especially,” he says slowly, and I thread my fingers through my hair, holding my hand on top of my head. “What are you wearing?”
“Umm…”
I glance down as if I don’t know what I have on or what I was about to do.
“You know, seeing you today, volunteering to help me, made me want you more,” he says softly.
“It did?” I release my hair and cup my throat.
“Yeah. I liked the mask and the wig, but I prefer your gorgeous face and beautiful hair.”
“You do?” My mouth is dry, and I look around as if water is going to appear before me.
“The universe gifted me with a stunning mate. I’m lucky that she has a kind heart and qualities I want to explore.”
“Explore,” I say, and he chuckles. The sound vibrates through my body.
“I’ve heard the heat a woman experiences when she meets her mate can be uncomfortable,” he says lightly.
“It can,” I say.
“I wish I could be beside you, but I can help.”
“How?”
“Were you touching yourself when I called?” he asks, and I bite my lip. “Honesty, baby.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Anything we do will always be consensual. You have all the control. If you don’t want to do something, all you have to do is say no.
When we are together, you can pick a word that will stop what we are doing, but I will never ignore your wishes.
If you feel pressured or uncomfortable, tell me, and we can talk about what scared you.
Right now, you are alone and need relief.
I want you to want me as much as I want you, but until then, with space between us, this can please us both. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” He doesn’t know how much his words and understanding mean to me.