The Negotiator (Professionals, #7) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,59
felt right.
It felt righter still as he moved out of the bathroom, still perfectly naked, making his way back to the bed, leaning down to turn off the light, sinking his teeth into the side of my ass playfully before sliding in with me, and pulling me close.
"You're staying here tonight," he told me.
Normally, I'd bristle at that demand.
But, instead, my lips curled upward, big enough to make my cheeks hurt.
"Okay," I agreed, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw before nestling in.
And then I did it.
I stayed.
And I had a feeling as I drifted off to sleep that everything had just changed.
Of course, life tends to like to laugh at your plans.
Christopher, me, our budding relationship, that was no exception to the rule, it seemed.
But right then, in that moment, for a short period of time, all I knew was happiness.
And hope.
However short-lived it would all be.
THIRTEEN
Christopher
No one was surprised.
Save for the two of us.
The people around me, the ones who had known me for so long, had seen it coming from the beginning.
In the little things.
Like making her coffee, allowing her to make absurd demands, and following through with them.
They also saw it in the big things.
Like me losing control, beating a man to death in front of her.
I'd killed men before. You didn't get to be in my position in life without getting your hands dirty, rolling around in the blood and filth on occasion.
But death by my hands had always been a cold, calculated thing. Something that needed to happen with as little fuss as possible. It was simply a task that needed to be carried out. Even if that task was dispatching someone I thought loyal, but who proved otherwise.
I never lose my cool.
I never used my fists to beat someone to death.
That was not how I conducted business.
It was never necessary.
It wasn't how I was wired.
Or so I thought.
But then I was shocked awake by Melody screaming my name, pure, undiluted fear clear in her voice.
I shot out of bed, flew into her room, flicked on the light, and saw Niko on top of her on the bed.
And I just fucking snapped.
There was no other way to put it.
Something inside me snapped.
The control I usually had such a strong grasp on disappeared.
I didn't need to kill him, I wanted to. I got a sick satisfaction at the blood flowing, the cracks of his bones crushing, the last gasp of breath.
Because he put his hands on her.
Because he made a strong woman feel weak and scared and helpless.
Because he had no right to do that.
It had nothing to do with his disloyalty. That was a side-effect of working with shady individuals who wanted to go into an illegal enterprise.
It had to do with her.
At first, in those hours afterward, while I made plans to move us to a new location for added security until the threat could be neutralized, I convinced myself it was simply because she was in my care, and that I owed it to her to keep her safe while I was keeping her in my home.
It wasn't until the next morning that I started to understand it was more than that, that she was more than just a guest, more than someone I needed to protect.
I suspected it was genuine affection as we toured my other home, as we played cards, as she opened up to me, as she made food for us.
But I only knew for sure when I got my hands on her again, as we took things completely out of the professional realm.
That this was something.
Something big.
Something with a future.
Which had been a shocking revelation as I lay there in bed the next morning, arm around her lower back, her body draped over me, still passed out, since she always seemed to sleep in.
But I suddenly couldn't picture next week, next month, next year without her exactly there. Without coming in from my workout to find her bleary-eyed, coffee in her hands, eyes roaming over my torso. Without finding her in the kitchen sneaking something sweet. Without her at the dining room table. Without her there in the evenings to watch a show, to play cards, to talk about our varied, interesting life stories. Without her in my bed again at night.
It was too soon to say she was the one, but she was something more than a one-night-stand. And that was shocking enough in itself.
"What?" I asked, feeling Alexander's gaze on me in the kitchen.