blows out a breath. “To give you something.”
“Something else?” I still have the Taser he gave me in my bag. Not that I could have used it on him. He caught me totally by surprise just now.
He reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. This time I don’t need to hold it to know what it is. I don’t extend my hand either.
Instead a strangled sound escapes me. “A gun?”
His expression is almost bashful, a sharp contrast to the sleek heavy metal thing he holds so expertly. “I was thinking…the Taser isn’t enough. Not in this neighborhood. Not with you working here.”
“Is that even legal?” I squeak.
His low laugh is my answer. “Do you want to put your name in a database?”
“No, but I don’t want a gun either.” I’m more likely to accidentally shoot somebody than protect myself with that. The Taser was already a big step for me. The gun is downright terrifying. It’s too much. I can’t take it.
He seems to understand that. He nods and puts it back in his jacket. “If you change your mind…”
I stare at him, both confused and captivated. What strange gifts he’s brought for me. First the Taser. Now the gun. They’re both so violent. I hate violence. But they are also protection—and I need protection.
He’s like a cat bringing me a dead mouse as a gift. Disturbing. And sweet.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
I should tell him yes. I should tell him to leave. “Don’t go.”
Christ, I’m in too deep. How long has it been since I was attracted to a man? I’m not sure I ever have been. I had a crush on the bodyguard, but that was girlish—despite the adult things he did to me. There had barely been time, or opportunity, to look at men before I got engaged to Byron. And now I’m so far into this man, into Kip, that I don’t know how to back away.
Kip smiles a little. “Then I’ll stay.”
I narrow my eyes, playfully suspicious. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”
His smile gives me all kinds of suggestions. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you like.”
Oh, he’s good. A little spark of pleasure lights up in me. It may just be a line he gives all the girls, but it works. It’s more seductive than his scruff or his muscles or his boots—the idea that he cares. I dance every day, trying to please men I don’t even know. And here is this one, trying to please me.
“I like to dance.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Then why don’t you come into the club?”
“Not like that. I’d like to see you dance the way you want to.”
I’m not sure that’s even possible. If I know he’s there, I’ll be dancing for him. I’ve been trained too well—by Byron, by my father. I even perform for Clara, in a way. There is no freedom with other people. Only in being alone.
“No dancing,” I say, strangely disappointed.
“Then let’s lie down,” he says gently. Maybe he knows how hard this is for me, to get close. Maybe it’s hard for him too. “We can look at the stars and let them dance for us.”
My heart clenches with something like wistfulness.
He’s not even gone, but I already miss him. I’ve had so little kindness lately. Or ever. And here he is with a whole weapons cache full of kindness. The killing game. I remember what Blue said about him. Even Ivan warned me away.
Kip stands there looking gruff and intimidating, like he would take on the whole world for looking at him sideways. There are scars on his knuckles that say he tried. And there’s a bend in his nose that says he’s lost. But despite all that violence, he touches me with desire.
He already has my body, already bought and used up. But he wants something else.
He wants me.
* * *
My father loved my mother. I was young when she died—when he killed her—but I remember that much.
I remember how he doted on her, giving her everything she asked for and more. I remember how she would laugh and tell him not to spoil
“Something else?” I still have the Taser he gave me in my bag. Not that I could have used it on him. He caught me totally by surprise just now.
He reaches into his jacket and pulls something out. This time I don’t need to hold it to know what it is. I don’t extend my hand either.
Instead a strangled sound escapes me. “A gun?”
His expression is almost bashful, a sharp contrast to the sleek heavy metal thing he holds so expertly. “I was thinking…the Taser isn’t enough. Not in this neighborhood. Not with you working here.”
“Is that even legal?” I squeak.
His low laugh is my answer. “Do you want to put your name in a database?”
“No, but I don’t want a gun either.” I’m more likely to accidentally shoot somebody than protect myself with that. The Taser was already a big step for me. The gun is downright terrifying. It’s too much. I can’t take it.
He seems to understand that. He nods and puts it back in his jacket. “If you change your mind…”
I stare at him, both confused and captivated. What strange gifts he’s brought for me. First the Taser. Now the gun. They’re both so violent. I hate violence. But they are also protection—and I need protection.
He’s like a cat bringing me a dead mouse as a gift. Disturbing. And sweet.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
I should tell him yes. I should tell him to leave. “Don’t go.”
Christ, I’m in too deep. How long has it been since I was attracted to a man? I’m not sure I ever have been. I had a crush on the bodyguard, but that was girlish—despite the adult things he did to me. There had barely been time, or opportunity, to look at men before I got engaged to Byron. And now I’m so far into this man, into Kip, that I don’t know how to back away.
Kip smiles a little. “Then I’ll stay.”
I narrow my eyes, playfully suspicious. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”
His smile gives me all kinds of suggestions. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you like.”
Oh, he’s good. A little spark of pleasure lights up in me. It may just be a line he gives all the girls, but it works. It’s more seductive than his scruff or his muscles or his boots—the idea that he cares. I dance every day, trying to please men I don’t even know. And here is this one, trying to please me.
“I like to dance.”
“I’d like to see that.”
“Then why don’t you come into the club?”
“Not like that. I’d like to see you dance the way you want to.”
I’m not sure that’s even possible. If I know he’s there, I’ll be dancing for him. I’ve been trained too well—by Byron, by my father. I even perform for Clara, in a way. There is no freedom with other people. Only in being alone.
“No dancing,” I say, strangely disappointed.
“Then let’s lie down,” he says gently. Maybe he knows how hard this is for me, to get close. Maybe it’s hard for him too. “We can look at the stars and let them dance for us.”
My heart clenches with something like wistfulness.
He’s not even gone, but I already miss him. I’ve had so little kindness lately. Or ever. And here he is with a whole weapons cache full of kindness. The killing game. I remember what Blue said about him. Even Ivan warned me away.
Kip stands there looking gruff and intimidating, like he would take on the whole world for looking at him sideways. There are scars on his knuckles that say he tried. And there’s a bend in his nose that says he’s lost. But despite all that violence, he touches me with desire.
He already has my body, already bought and used up. But he wants something else.
He wants me.
* * *
My father loved my mother. I was young when she died—when he killed her—but I remember that much.
I remember how he doted on her, giving her everything she asked for and more. I remember how she would laugh and tell him not to spoil
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