My arm was numb when I startled from my restless doze. The culprit was cuddled to my side, her bare chest gently rising and falling against my ribs. I’d dreamed of this day for years. I had always crushed on her. Any male would by her photos on social media. She was beautiful, and my simple crush magnified once we started talking on a regular basis. Our conversations were platonic, mainly about writing and marketing. We were colleagues, but the simple ad-ons and small talk about our lives outside of the writing world made me fall deeper. I loved to banter with her.
The fact that she was married helped curb my attraction and desire for her, but the more she talked about that prick, the more I wanted to rescue her. Now that I knew her divorce wasn’t just ignorance and lack of compatibility, I wanted to scoop her up and keep her from that asshat.
Teaching him a lesson would happen in the very near future. I had the resources and the capability. I was more than just a lone author living in New Zealand, and wasn’t a man to be messed with. My dark past was still very alive in my present day, I’d only learned to use it for good.
Cora stirred, rolling away from me, but still using my forearm as a pillow. I couldn’t help but turn with her, scooting on my side and molding my front with her back. My hand found her hip, half between the soft fabric of her shorts and the smoothness of her silky skin. I wanted to explore her body further, but she wasn’t in the right frame of mind. That fuckhead hurt her, and without her saying it, I knew physical contact with him hadn’t always been consensual.
The last scenario I wanted was my cock to be inside of her and cause for her to have a meltdown. I understood Post Traumatic Stress. It was a bitch, and would haunt a person for the rest of their lives. I had been living with my own nightmares buried deep in the trenches of my brain.
I ran my hand along her rib cage and to her shoulder, trailing down her bicep and back up, mapping out her Pakeha body while I could. Glancing at the alarm clock, it wasn’t even midnight.
I’d normally fall asleep around one or two, but I might not sleep at all tonight.
The text message from her douchebag of an ex-husband was a threat, an unlikely one, but I still needed to be on high alert. I knew all about him, where he worked and his past. Nothing shady was in his records, but that didn’t mean anything. The sound of Cora’s voice when she spoke of him told me enough, and when she had deflected discussing him, that raised more red flags.
He was successful and held power in the business world, but he wasn’t a match for my type. If he stepped foot on my turf, he’d be fucked, and I wouldn’t introduce him to Jake Cooper, the author, he’d meet the dark side reserved for bastards who deserved a beating.
I rested my head against the pillow, breathing in her scent. She smelled divine, the citrus scent of her shampoo captured my senses. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pulled her flush against me, the bare skin of her back hot against my chest. I circled her navel, flexing my hand along her stomach. She was in shape, more so than I expected. Her hourglass figure was to die for, and her arse pressed against my groin wasn’t helping to keep my naughty thoughts at bay. Keeping my hand on her waist and not traveling upward to her naked breasts was a true test of self-control.
Just as I was about to close my eyes, a creak of the floor stirred me from the quiet of the night. Normally I’d blame it on Shepley, but he was sprawled across the dresser and asleep.
I swiftly removed my arm from underneath Cora’s head, sneaking from the bed. She only fidgeted some, but went back into a peaceful slumber.
Inching to the closet, I felt for the hidden drawer on the top shelf. I kept a glock there, amongst other places throughout my house. Not taking my eyes from the door, I found the latch, snapping it open and retrieving the weapon.
I was on full alert, trained in combat and prepared to handle any intruder or situation. I’d taken down multiple men on my own without batting an eye. Now that I had precious cargo sleeping in my home, I was an even bigger force to be reckoned with.
I crept to the door, holding my glock in position to check the perimeter. The door was ajar, making inspecting the dark hallway easier. Once the hallway was clear, I gently closed the door, pacing toward my office and bathroom, keeping an ear out for more noises.
I relied on sound as much as my sight when it came to stalking a perpetrator. I’d served in the military as a First Lieutenant, leading troops to capture terrorists.
That was when the real monster inside evolved.
It had been five years since my accident, now I had my own way of dealing with the horrors I’d seen. Writing helped to mask the memories, but they still burned inside of me. I’d never be able to completely forget.
My heart pounded while I stalked through the house, hyper-aware and prepared for what might pop out in front of me. Holding my gun ready, I stealthily moved into the kitchen and living room, the most opened areas of the house.
Searching intently, careful to watch for shadows playing tricks on me, I followed my instinct, crouching as I moved to the front entry. A patter sounded, and I flung my body in the direction of the noise, heart thumping sporadically with the chase. Did her dumbass ex-husband really find us? I had underestimated him if he did.
Then again, I wasn’t very popular. I’d destroyed a few drug cartels’ businesses with my new line of work, and keeping an eye out for their henchmen was a constant battle.
The sound continued, and sweat beaded behind my neck. The rush of the unknown and possible danger thrilled me, keeping my fears away, only the cold stone killer’s persona, making its appearance in the dark of the night.
Turning quickly from the living room and into the kitchen, I aimed my gun forward. If someone was here, they were hiding behind the kitchen island, and they’d be fucked once I got to them. I shuffled forward, ready to pull the trigger.
I released a heavy breath and lowered my gun when I reached the back of the island. A mouse was nibbling on a crumb from our dinner on the floor, not bothering to run when it saw me. Worthless cat, I thought as I watched the mouse sniff around the edge of the island, picking up another small piece of food that I somehow missed.
I ran my free hand along my forehead and through my damp hair. I needed to get a grip on the small noises that invaded my house. It happened every night, my combat instinct would kick in, as if it were looking for a reason to hunt and kill.
“Come here, little guy, you don’t belong inside,” I said in a hush, chasing the mouse toward the deck, opening the slider and shooing him outside.
I double checked all the locks in the house, telling myself to stop being paranoid. It didn’t matter, though, I’d always think someone were watching. It was how I was trained, embedded in my brain that the enemy was always lurking and waiting.
Heading to the sliding door of my bedroom to the wrap around deck, I decided to help calm my nerves. Her ex wasn’t a threat to me, but there was something I could do.
“Hey asshole, you thinking about me in bed again?” Ben, the voice teased on the other line. It was mid-afternoon his time. I knew because it was the same time zone as Cora’s.
“I’m always thinking about you,” I joked back. “Really, I need a favor.”
He chuckled. “Saving your life wasn’t enough?”
I smiled fondly. Ben worked side by side with me in the Middle East when I’d earned the majority of my scars and fucked up mentality. He got me, even if he was on the other side of the world. “I’ll add to my debt. I need you to check up on someone for me.”
“I assume it’s the same guy as last time?” I glanced through my door and out into the hallway toward the living room. The last thing I needed was for Cora to catch me on the phone asking about her ex-husband.
“Yeah. He’s making threats. I’m not worried, I just want to make sure the asshole is still hiding in his tower.”
Ben’s interest was piqued. “He normally is. What kind of threats are we talking about?” We worked the same way and for the same people. Trying to turn our darkness into good, only he handled the nightmares better than I had.
“Just a text message. Seems he’s ‘coming to get her.’ I’m not worried.”
“What? She flew to you? Your crush turning into something else?” He prodded. Ben loved giving me a hard time when I first asked him for information on Martin Kartman. He told me I would go for a girl I couldn’t have, even though I never admitting to having more than friendly feelings towards Cora. “Time will tell.”
Ben laughed under his breath. “Good luck to you, bro. You’ve had a thing for this chick for some time now. Don’t worry about her ex-husband. You’d kick this twig’s ass in two seconds. I’m sure it’s all talk. I’ll stop by his office tomorrow. I’ve got business that way.”
My shoulders shrugged, releasing some tension. “Thanks, mate. I know it’s a few hours from your location.”
“No biggie. Like I said, I’ve got to check up on a client that way, anyway.”
“Thanks again, talk to you soon.”
“Good. Call you tomorrow.”
I sighed after hanging up the phone, leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. If Cora knew how much I’d scoped out on her, she’d be terrified. Shaking my head, I went back to what I was doing, shoving my phone in my pocket.
Once I was finished checking the locks, I went back into the kitchen and turned on the dim light above the stove, downing a glass of water, glock still in hand. I gripped it with white knuckles. I’d need to get a hold of my constant fear of someone watching me.