Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I think about last night.
I think about her hand on my cock and the sounds she pulled from me. The way she took control and submitted all at the same time. I think about the way we lay in the dark and talked about inane things like life hacks and musical one-hit wonders until we were kissing and fucking again.
And the easy, easy way we simply fell asleep tangled up in each other. It was so comfortable and the sleep was without dreams.
I push the eggs once more before taking the pan off the heat. I sprinkle the fresh dill and then put the lid over the top to keep them warm.
And then I think some more about the decision. I made it last night around the second time her hand found my chest in the dark and I held it there. I knew it then and I know it now.
I am going to give her Voronin.
Footsteps on the stairs have my head twisting that way and I don’t try to analyze the low burn in my chest and the stirring of my dick as she comes through the doorway.
She’s in one of my white button-downs, which hangs to the middle of her thighs. The sleeves are rolled up at her wrists, and her hair is a wild, blond jumbled mane.
Josie’s in my kitchen, in my shirt, most likely a little sore between the legs, and it’s the most beautiful thing this house has ever held.
I don’t say it.
“Morning,” I say instead, taking the kettle and pouring the water into the French press.
“Good morning,” she says brightly, leaning over the counter to examine the eggs, toast and place settings. “You really do like to cook.”
“It’s scrambled eggs.”
She lifts the lid on the pan to inspect it. “But it’s scrambled eggs with dill. That’s a level of fancy you just can’t hide, Finn.”
I snort and plate the food. “Sit.”
She takes a seat on one of the high stools and I slide the dish toward her. I then press the coffee and pour two cups.
We sit side by side at the counter as we eat. I watch as she doctors her java with cream and sugar and then loads her eggs onto a piece of toast. Josie ignores the knife and fork and gently nibbles at the toast while holding it in her hand, using her fingertips to ensure no eggs fall free.
“You’re staring at me,” Josie says after licking a crumb from the corner of her lip and then dabbing it with the napkin. She sets her food down, takes a sip of her coffee and then swivels her stool to face me.
“I find you utterly beautiful and fascinating,” I say dryly. I reach down, place my hand on her thigh. “Of course I’m staring at you.”
“You’re very much a charmer,” she murmurs, ducking her head and at the same time, laying her hand over mine.
“If only we could spend the rest of the day in bed, where I’d do nothing but charm you and give you endless orgasms.”
Josie blushes, her lips tipping upward. “But we can’t do that, because we both have work to do.”
I nod. “Adulting sucks sometimes.”
She chuckles but then her expression turns serious. “And… we have very adult problems before us.”
My lips flatten in disdain, because she’s not wrong. I’m going to give her more information, not just because we made a deal but because I’m now emotionally invested in this woman and I need to keep her safe.
The only way to do that is for Voronin to be taken out of commission. “Before I tell you what I’m about to tell you, I need something from you.”
She nods, once. “What is it?”
I take a breath. “I’ve spent many years being very careful about what I know about Anatoli Voronin. The arrangement I have with him has kept me and my crew alive. They’re like family to me and I have to protect them.”
Josie’s expression is sympathetic. “I completely understand that. I suppose you’re not going to tell me exactly what you and your crew do for a living, are you?”
I angle my head, my eyes censuring. “You know I won’t. You know I can’t. You work for people who hunt people like me down.”
Josie flinches, as that’s the closest I’ve come to admitting what I am.
“I don’t get it, Finn,” she says, reaching to take my hand. “You own a successful art gallery. Why do you need to—”
I place my fingertips over her lips to quiet her. “I own an art gallery, Josie. That’s all you need to know, okay?”
She stares at me a long while before pulling my hand away from her mouth. She nods, voice soft and brittle at the same time. “Okay.”
“Your people and the FBI know I picked you up out of the water, but that’s all the involvement I want them to think I have in this.”