brows furrowing.
"The steps."
"The steps?" he repeated, lost.
"To the cave house, Christopher. The steps. I made a promise to my thighs that I would never put them through that again."
To that, his eyes danced, his lips twitching up. "We will have to train them to toughen up."
"That sounds like it involves exercise," I said, lip curling.
"Well," he said, eyes going sultry. "There are some forms of exercise that are better than others," he told me, bending low, throwing me over the shoulder, and carrying me off to my room.
He was right.
If I got to choose sex as a way to tone up all the time, I would. And, I guessed, now that I had a steady guy, I actually could.
There were definitely a lot of perks to having a significant other that I never considered before.
One of my favorite parts, though, was the way he reached for me after our bodies were spent, once we'd found our way under the sheets again, pulling me up onto his chest, lazily running his fingers over me until I was too relaxed to do anything other than fall asleep.
"Isn't this cozy?"
I wish I could say I shocked awake at that. That I knew instantly what was going on. That I immediately sprang to action.
But all I noticed right away was a small surge of annoyance, wondering which of my coworkers had disengaged my security system just to sneak in and tease us while we were in bed.
It took an almost embarrassingly long time to realize that none of them would do such a thing.
And that Christopher's entire body was tense beneath me, his fingers bruising into my hip.
My eyes shot open, and I was thankful I had argued with Christopher about needing to leave the TV on low while I went to sleep at night, because it made the room that would otherwise be pitch black light up with a purplish hue, making it possible to make out Chernev leaning casually in the doorway, gaze on my mostly naked body.
I could actually feel the path his eyes followed, leaving a slimy trial in their wake.
"Don't even think about it, Adamos," he demanded as Christopher's body moved ever so slightly, likely trying to get closer to the gun on the nightstand without Chernev noticing.
"Miss Miller," he said, making my stomach roll. "Why don't you slide off the other side of that bed for me?" he asked, and it was clear that it wasn't a suggestion. Since he was presently the only one of us holding a gun.
"No," Christopher snapped, wrapping his arm more tightly around me.
"I'm afraid it isn't up to you," Atanas told him, words icy.
"What are you hoping to accomplish here, Mr. Chernev?" I asked, untangling myself from Christopher, trying to gather the sheets to cover my naked body as I sat up in the bed. "Making him suffer," he decided, teeth clenched. "And you," he added, shooting me disdainful eyes. "Come over here," he demanded.
There were two schools of thought here.
Christopher's and mine.
I didn't have to ask him to know he thought me getting anywhere near the man was a giant mistake.
But mine said that getting close meant I could maybe get control of his gun. Or, if nothing else, distract him enough to allow Christopher to go for his gun and put an end to all of this.
Taking a steadying breath, I decided to opt for distraction.
Stomach rolling, I slid out from under the sheets, getting off the side of the bed, keeping my gaze on Atanas as I moved around the bed, stark ass naked.
"Is this what you wanted, Atanas?" I asked. I couldn't muster the suggestive tone I knew I should be using, feeling a little too sick at this whole interaction to be at the top of my game.
He said nothing.
He didn't even glance my way.
Not even when I stood right beside him.
His gaze stayed on Christopher.
Until, in a blink, it was on me. But only because his hand was on my neck. And the gun was pressing into my skull.
I could hear the hiss of breath from Christopher over the pounding of my own heartbeat.
I closed my eyes tight, seeking some sort of inner calm, trying to conjure up memories of self-defense classes, of sparring with Smith and the guys to make sure we were all capable of escaping several basic holds.
"Knock over that nightstand with your foot, Adamos," Chernev demanded, wanting to get the gun away from him without him being able to pull a fast