Lured (Team Zero #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,34

bastard.

I take the quickest shower because my body is demanding coffee. I don’t bother with wearing clothes. I just wrap a towel around my torso, let locks of wet blonde hair fall to my shoulders, and saunter down the hall.

Not to be dramatic, but morning coffee is like air.

Dominic’s flat is huge but not huge enough to rival the mansion Papa built. After all, we’re talking about a flat, not a mansion.

He has four bedrooms. One of them is his office. I tried breaking into it a few times, but it’s locked and only he has the key. I wondered if he kept dead bodies there, so I brought him a drink once. It looked like a normal office. Which was a bit disappointing. I didn’t want the dead bodies, but I was intrigued to see what he created when it was only him and himself. That brain of his is so fascinatingly screwed up, I’m sure unimaginable things come of it.

Perhaps it’s his research. I’m glad he’s channelling that destructive energy towards something good.

I come to a screeching halt at the threshold of the spacious kitchen.

Dominic.

He’s in black boxer briefs. The defined muscles of his back contract as he perches on the stove.

The swirls from the ‘No Regret’ tattoo send tendrils along his back and shoulders. All my craving for coffee almost becomes nil and void.

Dominic is more addictive than coffee. Ha. I never thought any person would be more important than my magical coffee.

What is he doing here anyway? He goes for a jog every morning and would usually be at the lab about now.

Not that I’m complaining. I mean, I get a view of all those drool-worthy muscles. It’s a blasphemy to complain.

I stand there and admire his backside. A throb starts between my thighs by just watching.

He turns around, and when he catches me checking him out, a sly smirk tugs his lips.

“What?” I feign nonchalance and head to the coffee machine. He always has it ready for me. “You’re so gorgeous, it’s unfair.”

He appears thoughtful for a second as he sprinkles salt on the eggs. “Why is it unfair?”

“People like you shouldn’t get the beautiful package. It helps who you are.”

He rubs his bottom lip with his forefinger. “Maybe we become who we are because we have the package.”

I pour coffee in my mug on which is written ‘La vie commence après la première tasse de café’ – the only utensils I brought from France. It’s old and a bit too big, but it’s Papa’s precious present since I started my coffee addiction.

I pause, mulling Dominic’s words. Since I didn’t fill my system with coffee, I’m not in a mood for early banter, so I just drop it.

Dominic, being an asshole, smirks announcing his win as we sit down across from each other on the dining table.

Aromatic scents float around us. He went all out with breakfast today. Jam, marmite, eggs, and even bacon. It looks delicious but not more than the half-naked man savouring his eggs. Locks of his dishevelled dark brown hair fall on his forehead. He appears pretty tame if not tired today.

He seems like… himself.

A giddiness takes hold of me. I thought I was above all the teenage emotions, but it turns out that my hormones are freaking loud and demanding around Dominic.

I take a sip from my mug to stop myself from jumping him. The bitter black coffee is the most heavenly taste on earth. I close my eyes and moan softly.

“What do I do to become that coffee?”

My eyes shoot open, and I almost spit the mouthful of coffee.

Dominic is watching me with an amused gleam as he nibbles on his eggs.

Well, two can play. I feign a mocking tone. “The mighty Dominic will reduce himself to being mere coffee?”

“Hey, if you’re addicted to me and can only start your day after having me, then I’m game.”

My fingers clasp the coffee mug tighter. He appears neutral, relaxed even, but I’m not sure if he means it or he’s just fucking with me as usual.

I don’t want to get my hopes high in case he crushes them, so I evade. “You should try coffee, it’s so good.”

“You French are so obsessed with coffee, it’s ridiculous.”

“And you British are so possessed by tea, it’s more than ridiculous.” I shoot back. “You drink 60.2 billion cups a year. That’s crazy.”

He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter. “I’m not a tea person.”

“I noticed. You’re an anomaly.”

He shrugs again. Only this time, he definitely