“You don’t owe me anything. I had a duty, that’s all,” she said, barely above a whisper. He was still invading her space and her senses. He backed up, giving her some space.
“I owe you my life, so at least let me feed you until we can figure something else out.”
She rolled her eyes, wishing he would feed her in ways that would make a preacher blush. But she kept her mouth closed.
Paige muttered, “I know that’s right,” from the back, rooting for whatever shenanigans were going on up front.
He knew it wasn’t going to be a one-meal situation, but he didn’t want to seem too pressed, especially about a woman who needed someone’s approval to experience life with a man who would change hers. She had to see his weight in gold because it was heavy.
“Yeah, but am I safe with you? I don’t even know how you got shot or if that’s handled or what.”
“My bad, baby. You’re right. It’s all good. You good with me. You can take that to the bank,” he declared knowing he should’ve led with that. She didn’t budge. “Damn you gon’ do me like that?”
“Exactly like that! I don’t know you, and it took you weeks to come back here,” she fussed with pouted lips and folded arms.
He thought it was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his life. “But fuck all that,” he thought, “she been thinking about me.” That confirmation hit him somewhere foreign. And those damn lips of hers did something to him. Right then, watching her pout about missing him, he knew she was going to have his heart and pockets sewn up tight, and he wouldn’t even protest. That was a promise.
He stepped closer, erasing the space he had graciously given her earlier. With no distance between them, he braced one hand above her head on the wall, then reached around her with the other to slide her phone from her back pocket. He swiped up, watching her face, waiting for protest. But she didn’t move, just stood there with her chest rising and falling rapidly, arousal evident in her quickened breath. The air grew thick between them as her breathing turned labored. Emon’s tongue swept across his perfect juicy lips before he smiled down at her. Her exhale was shaky. He didn’t mind the chase for now, but it wouldn’t last long. When he came for something he wanted, he went hard like a rabid dog. And he wanted her.
“I’ll be in touch. Something about hearing no just don’t sit right with me. Plus your body ain’t saying no and I’m inclined to listen to it,” he said, plugging his number into her phone and calling himself. Emon disconnected the call and kissed her temple softly before turning and dropping a few hundred dollars on the couch and heading out.
“Lock this door behind me. I mean it,” he said firmly but gently, his protector instincts already kicking in. He didn’t need another nigga dropping in with a gunshot wound, this was his sanctuary and his only. And he’d hate to have to resort to his old ways about Blake, but he would.
She stood frozen, watching him leave, her skin still tingling where his lips had touched. The man moved like he owned every room he entered, and somehow he’d just claimed space in her mind too. As the door clicked shut behind him and his boys, Blake touched her temple where his kiss still burned.
“What the hell just happened?” she whispered to herself, but deep down she knew - her life had just shifted on its axis, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.