Page 32 of Beautiful Killer

“You were broken into,” Cage said. “This shit should have been sorted for you straight away.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You got a man?”

“A man?” I frowned, not sure what he meant.

“Boyfriend. You seeing someone?”

“Oh . . .” I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and shook my head. “No,” I said, and was pretty sure I sounded like Minnie Mouse.

“If you were my woman?” he said low. “No one would’ve gotten close enough to lay a fucking hand on you.”

I didn’t know what way to say, especially with Zeke standing there. He’d frozen, mug halfway to his mouth, and that muscle in his jaw was jumping again.

“No,” I said. “I don’t imagine they would.” What else could you say to a declaration like that?

He grinned.

I blushed harder.

Zeke growled.

My nipples tingled at the sound. He growled a lot, and that included when he was with a woman, when he was . . . inside a woman.

Cage frowned and looked between me and Zeke.

That was my cue to get the heck out of there. I pointed at the stairs behind me. “I’m just going up to grab a shower and get ready.” Then I spun and hustled upstairs to my room.

My skin felt hot, tight by the time I reached my bathroom. I shut the door, stripped off and climbed in as soon as the water heated. The water hit my bare skin, and I shivered despite the warmth, remembering that growl. My nipples tightened, and God, I just . . . I went up in flames. I hadn’t touched myself since the break-in. The last thing I’d felt was desire. I bit my lip, I shouldn’t even be contemplating this now, not with Zeke just downstairs. But after last night, the dreams, having Zeke outside my place for three nights, seeing him just now. I needed to get off in a bad way.

Images from my restless night mixed with the hot-blooded, raw, sexy-as-sin reality of my nights with him, filled my head. My hand slipped over my wet skin, toying with my hard nipples. Not for long, though, because I was already wet, desperate to orgasm. I stayed under the firm jets of water, imagining it was Zeke’s hands moving over my fevered skin, and slid my hand between my thighs, gliding my fingers over my swollen clit. It wasn’t enough, though, and I pushed one inside. This was so wrong, but no way could I stop.

A cry escaped my lips. Thank goodness I was upstairs. I needed to do this quickly, and the way I was feeling that wouldn’t be a problem. I pumped my fingers in and out a little longer, until my knees were close to giving out from under me, then slid my hand back to my swollen clit and took myself over the edge. When it shook through me, I hadn’t meant to scream Zeke’s name, but I’d been carrying around so much tension lately it had built to a peak . . . then seeing him this morning, finally feeling safe . . . his name, it just came out.

I slumped back on the tiles, face hot, hoping like hell he hadn’t heard me . . .

The door crashed in and Zeke flew into the bathroom, face like thunder, and gun drawn.

I squealed, hand flying to my chest. Oh God. I stared at him through the glass, blinking water from my eyes, humiliation burning me to ash. Cage came running in next. He only made it two steps through the door, though, because Zeke’s hand came out, and he shoved him back the way he came and slammed the door after him.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes still sliding over me. “You screamed.”

I quickly switched off the water and grabbed a towel to cover myself. “I’m sorry.”

He slid his gun into the back of his jeans. “Why’d you scream, Sunny?”

I didn’t think it was possible, but my face got hotter, I’d reached molten lava territory. “I . . . I got a fright.”

He looked around, trying to see what frightened me.

I wanted to crawl under the bathroom counter and never come out. “It was a . . . a spider.”

“A spider,” he repeated, voice impossibly low.

His piercing eyes did not waver, they stayed locked on mine, searching out my secrets. I bit my lip to stop myself from babbling anymore nonsense. Something flickered in his eyes and I knew he’d worked why I really screamed his name. His nostrils flared, and his eyes dropped to my lips again, then lower.

“You sticking to that story?” he asked when his eyes came back to mine.

He was breathing heavily now, chest pumping, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. Did he . . . did he still want me? If I told the truth would things go back to the way they were? Would he start visiting me in the middle of the night again? How long for this time? Did I even want that? I thought I did. I mean, I wanted him, no question, but just how much I wanted him scared me. Losing him the first time hurt way more than it should, and I didn’t think I wanted to do that to myself again.

So I stared back and nodded my head. “Yes.”