Chapter Five #2
“It’s all they had,” he said as I eyed it.
“That’s okay. I do love the city,” I said, reaching to whip off my hoodie, leaving me in just a plain beige bra.
This time, there was no mistaking the way his gaze dipped and lingered before he finally forced it back up.
I reached for the tee, pulling it on, then reaching under to unfasten the back, then doing the magic trick to pull the bra out of my sleeve.
Christopher tracked the movement, eyes on the bra for a second, then sliding back over my chest where my cold-hardened nipples were pressing against the material.
Heat bloomed, chasing away the chill from being soaked.
I took a deep breath just to watch how his eyes went heavy-lidded as he watched my breasts press more fully against the fabric.
“Is there something still in the bag?” I asked before I could do something stupid like jump on him and demand he fuck me.
“Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his tie. Bothered. The man was hot and bothered. And I took way more pleasure in that than I should have. He reached into the bag. “Sweatpants. Your pants are three inches deep in puddle water.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“Had to guess on the size, but they had a drawstring, so—oh,” he trailed off as I pushed my pants down off my hips after kicking off my shoes.
Were my pink and purple polka dot panties the sexiest pair I owned? Not by a long shot. But that didn’t seem to matter to Christopher.
His gaze slid up my legs from ankle to hip, and I swear the skin warmed under his inspection.
It wasn’t until I was wiggling the pants up to my hips that he finally forced his eyes up to my face again. The need was still burning there, and I felt a similar heat spread through me.
Christopher cleared his throat again. “Fit?”
“Yep. Just need to…” I said as I pulled the drawstring tight and tied a little knot in it. “Thank you. I was going to be freezing all day.”
“Pretty sure Brio would pluck out my eyes if he knew I saw you cold and wet and didn’t do something about that.”
“Nah. That’s not an eye-plucking offense.”
“No?”
“Nope, the real issue wouldn’t be your eyes in this case. It’s your hands. Your hands were useless. So those would come off.”
“Know a lot about Brio’s… hobby, huh?”
“Much to my sister’s chagrin, we like to discuss torture methods over the dinner table.”
“You are a mildly terrifying woman, Alara.”
“Stop talking dirty to me,” I teased. But the way his eyes warmed had an ache starting between my thighs. “I’ll get you your money,” I said, deciding the coffee could wait. Because if I spent another second in the room with him looking at me like that, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.
“Hey, so do you know anything about wiring?”
“What kind of wiring?” he asked as I dug around for the cash, realizing I hadn’t thought to look for it during my search. But it was right where I left it. It wasn’t even a good hiding spot, so I had no idea how they hadn’t seen it.
“My surveillance camera isn’t working. I just noticed when I checked the feed.”
“Why were you checking the feed?”
“To make sure it was working.” It wasn’t a lie. But judging by the disbelieving look Christopher shot me, I had a feeling he wasn’t buying it.
“I’ll take a look,” he said as he tucked the cash into his breast pocket. “Where is it?”
“The one outside.”
He moved to the door, paused, and shot me a smile so charming, my belly flipped.
“Should I be worried that you’re asking me to look at outdoor wiring during a rainstorm?”
“Huh. I have to add that one to my list.”
“You keep a list of kill methods?”
“What kind of murder enthusiast would I be without one?”
“What’s at the top of your methods?”
“Assuming the victim is a man who is arguably larger and stronger than me?”
“Yeah.”
“I love a good garrote from behind. It lets you put your knees or feet in their back as leverage. And piano wires work great for that. They’re so strong.
If that’s not possible, something heavy to the head.
A bat would be best. A hammer would do the trick too.
Not with the first blow, but eventually. ”
His arm still fiddling with the camera, Christopher shot me a bemused smirk. “Thought about this a lot, huh?”
“I had a lot of time imagining killing these few guys through my teens. They were lucky the mob came for them before I finally got up my nerve because my methods weren’t going to be anywhere near as quick or painless as all that.”
“You had one loose wire on the back,” Christopher said, but his hand shifted toward the camera lens. “But this is the actual culprit.”
He held out a small round piece of black paper.
“Someone put a sticker over it?”
“Seems like it. Someone casing the joint, maybe.”
“But how come I didn’t see anyone?”
“This camera is older than me,” he said. “The night vision is probably shit. My guess is they just walked up at night in hoodies, looking like a shadow, and you just didn’t notice.”
That was possible.
I hadn’t been analyzing the footage frame by frame. I would have to go back with a fine-tooth comb. Once he was gone.
“Why would someone be casing this place out? You have a lot of valuable shit?”
“No.”
But that was exactly the question I intended to answer once he was gone.
And I was only going to go to the Costas for help if or when I had names or faces to give them.
At least, that was the plan.