Right?
My god, but he’s perfect.
I can’t help but smile with Kane either, there’s something so disarming about him when he’s not punching people out or growling, or making me faint from just being so damned irresistible.
“I’ll have to change though… these are my good clothes.” I caution him, and he holds both hands up in mock surrender, putting on a serious face for me while he sits himself down, dwarfing my tiny couch with his huge muscular frame.
I know he’s already got me, I just have to make out like he has to win me properly.
There’s still a huge part of me who, even when I pinch myself, that still feels like all of this is a dream that started bad but turned into one come true as soon as Kane showed up.
“Where’s your work?” he asks, and then quickly adds, “How much is a shift worth to you for one day, usually… on a Wednesday?”
“It’s about ten blocks from here and I get around eighty dollars, mostly tips,” I tell him, furious at how red I turn. Realizing how ashamed I actually am about my job, my life… about everything.
“I need to change…” I remind him and he takes a sharp breath in as I slide behind the door which leads to my tiny bedroom. I half wish he’d just come in here, run those huge hands all over me, take care of this sodden ache between my legs and get it over and done with. Let me get on with my life without this crazy urgency that’s taken over.
But he doesn’t. He’s the perfect gentleman and he waits until I come out ten minutes later having tried on everything I own, deciding none of it's any good to wear in front of him, settling on the only jeans I have that fit and an oversized blouse.
“Beautiful,” he growls to himself under his breath as I come out, looking down at the floor and feeling like I’ve just come last in a beauty pageant.
“Shall we go?” he asks, eyeing me greedily, getting up and holding out his arm for me to take.
I feel almost like royalty as I step out onto my old balcony, pulling the rotted door shut to lock it behind us as we float down the old wrought iron staircase, which I somehow know won’t be a journey I’ll be making again anytime soon.
Not if Kane gets what he wants.
CHAPTER SIX
Kane
Seeing Trudi in two outfits in almost as many minutes, it’s too much. When she tells me she’s gonna go change, my instinct is to follow her, to undress her and to spend the rest of the day finding ways to keep her from getting dressed.
But I have to try hard to remind myself she wants to take it slow. Not everyone wants to jump into bed with their new landlord after five minutes.
Looking around the apartment, I can see nothing that holds value or promise, apart from the fact it’s where Trudi comes from.
I have to pick my jaw up off the floor before I can even stand, and I don’t care if the world sees how hard she’s making me anymore. I can’t control it. My jacket should keep me from getting arrested, but her eyes glancing down and watching her smile turn up at the corners make me even harder for her by the minute.
The fresh air and Trudi on my arm as we leave the building makes me feel like a new man. My car’s waiting across the street and I feel Trudi tense up as we get closer.
“This is your car?” she asks, and I feel like I’m dragging her the last few steps but we need to get off the road.
“Yes,” I say, opening the rear door for her and helping her in.
She stifles a guffaw of disbelief, which reminds me of how I must’ve looked when I saw her coming out in those jeans just now. The surest way to a man’s heart is through wearing a decent pair of jeans, and Trudi’s curves in that denim, with a pair of low black boots has me panting like a wolf.
I like to drive, but when I’m busy, or in this case have a major distraction like Trudi, I’m grateful for the limo. It’s flashy but I often need to concentrate on other things while getting someplace.
Today is all about Trudi though, so I need both eyes fixed where the rewards are greatest, and I feel spoiled today, right now, having to choose between staring at her pretty face or her ample chest, which is like two giant magnets for my eyes.
Her wide eyes are running over the interior of the car and mine are running over her. I sit opposite her, facing backwards so I can watch her, watch the world she’s leaving behind.
“So… where are we going?” she asks, looking suddenly nervous again after the initial surprise of the limo wears off. My driver knows to take me to my next appointment after the apartment complex, which was a morning coffee meeting, which I’ve just canceled.
“For coffee,” I say, smiling. Promoting her to the most important thing on my calendar all day, and every day after this one.
“I think you can tell me about that building you lived in too, all the things wrong with it. Don’t hold back, I want to know how much of a lemon I just bought into.”
She looks sheepishly out the window and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve by focusing on her apartment.
“Well, the doors don’t close… the hot water is always on the fritz,” she begins.
“Uh huh, okay, this is good to know.” I tell her, making little mental notes while watching the light dance off her glossy lips, the shine in her blue eyes spectacular from the morning sun in them.
“…The fire escapes are rusted shut, the windows never open… the a/c has a pigeon living in it…
