Page 10 of Fire
Chapter 3
Luca
“I want to go to the mailbox alone.”
“Not going to happen,” I tell a red-faced Evan with an amazingly calm voice that only years of meditation and centering practice have made possible, considering it’s our fifth standoff today.
Evan’s amber eyes practically glow with anger. “You can’t stop me.”
“I can, and I will,” I say evenly, not letting an ounce of emotion into my words to fuel his temper.
Evan huffs, puts his hands on his slim hips, and studies me. He’s trying to figure out if I’ll back up my words with action.
The answer is yes. He won’t get past the door I’m currently standing in front of without me, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Because to stop him, I’m gonna have to touch him. I really don’t want to do that because the worst part of being Evan Kelly’s bodyguard is not the lack of sleep I’m clocking nightly because of Evan’s habit of muttering and pacing the small apartment while he works on the next article he’s writing, or his fondness of wonky jazz music which bores and irritates mein equal measures, or even his multiple rebellions and temper tantrum regarding my presence in his home.
No, the worst thing is fighting my white-hot attraction for Evan Kelly.
It hit me the second I saw him last week. Twenty-something hipsters of medium build and medium height have never been my type, but then Evan opened his door. There he was, standing there in his rolled-up chinos, black V-necked t-shirt overlaid with a beaded necklace, looking up at me with a confused half-smile on his face like he’d somehow been waiting for me, and I was finally here.
It ignited me. My reaction was the strangest mix of emotion and possessive desire I’ve ever felt. I had an almost impossible-to-ignore urge to sweep Evan up in my arms, tell I’d been waiting for him too, kiss his full, pouty lips, and then fuck him right there in the hallway.
It's an attraction on steroids, and given the circumstances, it's damned inconvenient. One, Evan hates me. He’s made that pretty fucking clear from the beginning. Two, I’m here to protect him, and wanting to see him naked gets in the way of that. Whether Evan takes the threats against him seriously or not, I know just how much danger he’s in. Cash says that finding Evan and bringing him to Digger is the Reivers Chicago chapter’s main assignment right now. Neither of us can afford for me to be distracted.
This means that, even though I‘d love to let Evan go to the mailbox alone just so I could get a five-minute break from the twenty-four-seven hard-on I have from being cooped up with him, it’s not happening.
“I’ll only be gone five fucking minutes,” Evan gripes.
“No,” I tell him calmly.
Evan flashes me a look of pure defiance, squares his shoulders, and charges for the door.
It’s easy to stop him. I simply reach out, wrap my hand gently around his neck, and stop his forward motion. He lets out a faint cry of surprise as he comes to a halt in front of me.
I just made a big mistake.
His racing heartbeat pulses beneath my rough, calloused hand, and I swear my own heart responds by synching to its beat. My thumb rebelliously reaches out across his soft skin and traces the line of his jaw.
He gulps. I feel the movement under my hand, and I’m instantly hard as steel.
For just a second, I imagine giving in to the fantasy playing out in my head of my hand still around his neck, gently forcing him down to his knees and pushing his lips open.
I’d pause before filling him up. Let him feel my size and weight as I let him taste my precum on his lips. Then after he was begging me for more, I’d fill that mouth of his that had yelled at me and called me names with my large cock, all the while telling him that I’d known all along that was what he wanted from me.
It doesn’t have to be a fantasy.
My hand tightens around his neck, but just before I start to push him to the ground, he begins the descent himself. Seeing him there on his knees for me satisfies something primal in me that I didn’t know I needed. My free hand moves toward my belt.
A loud pounding on the door breaks into the silence of the apartment. I freeze. Evan looks up at me, his eyes huge and full of emotion.
“I know you’re in there, so answer the damned door.”
Fuck. It’s Grave. I pull Evan up and release him. He stumbles back a few steps and begins to say something when another, much softer knock sounds. “We brought you dinner,” Dream calls behind the door.
“Gimme me a sec,” I say, my voice sounding thick to my ears. Clumsily, I undo the series of locks I’d recently installed and open the door to the couple carrying several bags of food.
“Sorry to just show up, but a wedding reception got canceled.” Dream doesn’t wait for an invitation and sails through the door and into the kitchen to set the bags down, Grave following right behind him. “Fortunately, the bride got caught kissing her maid of honor.”
