I woke up in the morning feeling warm and relaxed. This was nice. But when I tried to roll over, I couldn't.

"You'll fall off," Ashur rumbled in his early morning voice, his arm tight around my waist. "And I have to say, this couch leaves much to be desired."

I smiled, wiggling in his hold until I could turn around to look at him. He smiled back at me, his eyes still slightly sleepy. I smoothed a hand up his bare chest. He'd only bothered to leave his boxers on.

"We could have slept on the bed," I pointed out, kissing his chin, feeling the roughness of his morning stubble.

"Hmm. But then I couldn't have done this."

I gasped as he abruptly shifted us so I was on my back and he was on top of me. I was trying to stifle my laughter as he eased my oh-so-sexy pajama bottoms down.

I wasn't laughing anymore when he slowly pushed into me, his morning erection sliding in like a dream.

I felt like I was always ready for him.

We were both quiet as Ashur thrust in and out slowly, our lips clinging as we both fought for the orgasm that suddenly felt very necessary. Everything felt extra sensitive from last night, each touch feeling like even more. He reached between us and rubbed me right where I needed it.

"Oh!"

I thrust against him as the pleasure stabbed through me, faster than I expected it to. He muttered something before pushing in past my tight, clenching grip on his length, and let out a shaky groan as he came too. Our breathing was the only sound in the quiet aftermath.

"I think I'm dead," Ashur groaned.

I snorted, sliding a hand down his back. "It's your own fault if you are."

He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned down at me. I felt another zing of interest.

Down, body. That's enough!

"Worth it," he said, his tone satisfied. He leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. "But I think you might need to wake Omari up soon."

What? I grabbed my watch off the coffee table.

"Oh shit!"

Ashur laughed as I popped off the couch and pulled my pajama pants back up.

"This is your fault!" I said, though I felt too good to actually be mad about it. I hurried to the bedroom.

"Worth it!" he called out after me.

He was right. But still! I woke Omari up, and he bounced right out of bed, as usual. I wish I had some of his energy. While he went to the bathroom and got ready, I laid out his clothes and then mine. As soon as he was out, I ran into the bathroom and shut the door.

"I'll be out in a sec, Omari!"

A shower was definitely in order. A quick scrub later, I dressed in my usual jeans and t-shirt, throwing on my cleaned jacket on top. I still had to feed Omari and make his lunch, so I hustled out to the kitchen. But then stopped as I saw him sitting at the counter, eating pancakes.

"Here you go," Ashur said, sliding a plate onto the counter in front of me as he flipped another pancake on the griddle. "Hope you like pancakes. I figured it was a safe bet since you had the mix in your cabinet."

Aw.

I had no defense against this.

"I love pancakes," I said, sliding onto the stool next to Omari, who was demolishing his breakfast as usual. "That was really sweet of you. Though I should probably just make Omari's lunch real quick before I eat—"

"Already done," Ashur interrupted, setting Omari's lunchbox down on the counter in front of us. "He helped guide me so I could make him the kind of sandwich he likes."

"It's true," Omari said, swallowing. "Ashur even cut the crust off for me!"

I never had someone just . . . do things for me like this. I was caught completely flat-footed. I met Ashur's eyes as I settled back down onto the stool.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "Really."

His eyes warmed. "You're welcome," he said just as quietly. Then he glanced at his watch. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick, and then I have to head out."

"Can't you at least have breakfast with us?" I asked, feeling a pang in my chest.

"I can't," he said, skirting the counter. "I really wish I could."

"Aw!" Omari said, his face as crestfallen as I felt. "When will you be back?"

"Soon," Ashur promised, hugging Omari. "Eat your breakfast and don't give Mia a hard time, okay?"

Omari nodded, dutifully forking up another piece of pancake. Ashur disappeared inside for a few minutes. I hurriedly quartered an apple and wrapped each piece in a pancake. Not the most nutritious breakfast ever, but he could eat it with his hands and it was better than nothing. He was back well before we were done eating. I stood up to walk him to the door.

"I wish you could stay longer," I said in a low voice, stepping into his arms.

He hugged me tight. "Me too," he said. "But I'll be back soon. And maybe you guys could visit too?" he added hopefully.

I nodded. "Yeah. We could do that," I agreed, trying not to look as glum as I felt.

"We'll figure something out," he said, leaning down to give me a soft kiss. "I'll email you later, okay?"

"Okay."

For some complicated tech reason I didn't really understand, there was a way to get emails into the city dome from outside via satellites that were set up for that purpose, but phone calls weren't possible.

I pressed the still-warm paper bag containing his breakfast into his hands, and with one last kiss, he stepped out. I closed the door behind him, not liking the feeling of seeing him go. But life didn't stop because I felt sad. It was one of the lessons I'd learned early on.

I turned back to Omari.

"I miss Ashur," he said, giving me big eyes.

"Me too," I agreed, walking over to give him a hug. "But we'll see him again soon, okay?" I glanced at my watch. Yikes! I was constantly running against the clock! "And we need to head to school now. Come on, let's go!"

I stuffed his lunch into his backpack while he finished his breakfast. Shoes on, and then we were out the door. As I was locking the old-school component with the key—the other two automatically locked—I heard Jacob's door opening.

I glanced over to say hi, but froze as I met Ashur's eyes.

My brain simply short-circuited for a second.

What was he doing at Jacob's? Didn't he pee around me enough last night?

"Hi Ashur! Were you saying goodbye to Jacob?" Omari asked innocently.

That snapped me right back to the present.

"Yeah, Ashur," I said in a tight voice. "What were you doing at Jacob's?" I asked, trying not to show how upset I was. Omari was right there. But Ashur could tell my reaction wasn't a pleasant one.

"We had some business," he said calmly, not batting an eyelash at being caught.

They had business, did they?

"Omari, can you wait downstairs by the door?"

"But, Mia—"

"Now, please."

He let out a big, put-upon sigh, turning to go down the stairs. "Fine!" he agreed loudly. "I never get to hear anything good," he complained, muttering to himself.

I waited until he was a flight down. I'd be able to hear him when he was at the door, which meant he'd be able to hear me. I stepped close to Ashur and made sure to keep my voice down.

"Didn't you mark your territory enough last night?" I hissed.

He frowned. "What?"

"Don't play stupid! What else was the whole shirt-off, I'm-Mia's-boyfriend, grunt, I-am-Alpha thing about?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Am I not your boyfriend?"

What? I shook my head.

"Don't try to judo this back to me, buddy!" I poked him in the chest with my finger. "I don't want you harassing Jacob, okay? There's nothing going on with us!"

He met my eyes. "We had business," he said calmly.

"You know what?" I said, taking a step back. "Fine! I can't deal with this right now—Omari's going to be late to school." Turning around, I took the stairs down at a speed that was probably too fast for safety but completely necessary at that moment.

Ugh! Men!

"Come on, Omari," I said, opening the door to the street. "Let's go."

He wisely didn't say anything as we stepped outside. Probably I hadn't been as quiet as I should have been towards the end there. After about a half a block, I broke the silence.

"Ashur and I just had a disagreement about something."

"Okay." We walked a few more steps. "Can I have ice cream after school?"

I laughed, relaxing a little.

"Sure, why not?"

I was in and out of the school quickly to drop Omari off. No, I didn't socialize with the other parents.

Next time.

Maybe.

I checked my watch as I strode down the street, tuning out the noise of the crowd around me. It was a skill everyone picked up in the city domes with so many people around all the time. Kind of a means to survive the packed environment.

I scanned my schedule. First job today was a pickup in a nice area of town. That would be a nice change of pace. Fingers crossed that a fancy poodle or something didn't decide to attack me—because wouldn't that just be my luck—I planned out my route. I stepped onto a nearby trolley going in the correct direction, my eye automatically scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious.

Nothing.

The next trolley I got on was the same. Nothing suspicious when I got off and walked the block to the hotel either.

So far so good.

The streets weren't as crowded here, though they weren't mostly empty like the ones in the really bad areas either. More of a trickle of traffic. And any hairline crack in the pavement was quickly smoothed over before it could think of actually forming into a discernible eyesore.

God forbid.

Faux trees were set at regular intervals to give it a throwback feel. I didn't care how rich someone was here, planting a tree still took too many resources to make it a viable effort. Though I'm sure people had tried.

I arrived at the address with no problems, which I counted as a minor victory considering how things had been going the last couple of days. The hotel itself was a pretty white, the columns at the front and the intricate molding giving it a stately look. The doors were etched glass with gold edging. And there was an actual doorman dressed in a red jacket with gold buttons to open the door for me. Seemed a little wasteful when it could just be automated, but I'd found the rich often liked to show just how much money they had. Hence an actual man at the door.

"Good morning, Miss," he said politely, flashing me a smile from that handsome face that probably got him plenty of tips from the female patrons of this place.

Didn't have much of an effect on me.

Ashur was a hard act to follow.

"Morning," I responded, walking through the door he held open for me. "Thank you."

The inside of the place was as nice as I would have expected judging from the outside. Gleaming tile floors, two seating areas, a fireplace with a stone mantle. Plush rugs were scattered throughout, with a long runner set down between the front doors and the reception desk situated straight ahead.

The receptionist herself was short and curvy, with warm brown skin and hair only slightly darker, twisted into a knot at the back of her head. Her makeup was delicate and tasteful, her white blouse crisp.

"Good morning. How may I help you?" she asked politely, giving me a smile.

"Morning. I'm supposed to be meeting someone here?" I asked, glancing around to make sure I didn't miss anyone lurking in the corner. Maybe with a convenient sign that said they had a package.

Nope.

Empty.

"Oh, are you Ms. Hill?" she asked.

"Yes," I confirmed, a little confused that she knew who I was.

"Oh, Ms. Hill, I was told to give you this key to room 345," she said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out an old-fashioned key. I wasn't surprised by it given the ambience of the place. "If you'll just go and wait in that room, the person meeting you will be there shortly. He has been held up a bit and wanted me to relay his utmost apologies."

"I see," I said, taking the key slowly.

I was supposed to meet with the client in the lobby of the hotel. That was what we'd agreed on. Public and safe. I didn't like making a last-minute change. Or what the change actually was.

A hotel room wasn't public or safe.

I could have left right then, citing that the client hadn't adhered to the contract. But then I thought of the anonymous emailer and the incidents of late. I needed to see if this was another link in the pattern. So I smiled at the receptionist and thanked her rather than turning around and stepping back out. Pretended nothing was wrong.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome," she responded warmly. "The bank of elevators is to your right."

I nodded and walked over to the shiny gold reflective surface of the doors. I could see the receptionist still watching me in them. Act normal. The bell dinged and the doors opened. I stepped inside, turning around and meeting the receptionist's now-cool eyes. That wasn't completely unusual. Customer service was all about acting. Still didn't feel comforting though.

I pushed the button for the third floor. The doors closed. I palmed one of my knives. I'd already replaced the one I lost from my stash. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror finish of the doors. My dark hair wasn't looking the smoothest, and my clothes were what I would call well loved. As well as casual. I didn't look like I belonged in this elevator. And looks weren't really deceiving.

I tensed as the doors opened on the third floor.

An empty hallway lined with doors greeted me, the lighting dim, the oatmeal-colored carpet soft and dense under my foot. I checked the door numbers as I started walking down the hall slowly, alert to any unusual sounds. I didn't hear anything. Which was unusual in and of itself in a hotel. The room I was looking for was about halfway down the hall. The door for the room across from it was directly in front of it, across the narrow hall.

I stopped and scanned the usual spots for cameras. I didn't see any. Maybe rich people were touchy about having their affairs recorded. In any case, that made things easier.

I went to the door across from 345 and knocked lightly.

No response.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

I knocked again.

Still nothing.

Looked like it might be empty. What do you know.

I tried to turn the knob. It was worth a shot. But it wasn't that easy. It was locked. Guess I'd have to do this the hard way.

I glanced up and down the hall as I took out my tools. I didn't have to use them very often, but I kept them on me just in case. Since this place used physical keys rather than fingerprints or retinal scans, it didn't take me as long as it usually did to undo the lock.

A lot of places kept it old-school because adjusting the locks each time there was a new guest wasn't as practical, though it was safer. This place also had the old-school vibe a lot of these ritzier places liked to give off, so the locks made sense.

I felt it catch through the slim instruments.

Bingo.

Sliding my tools back into place, I opened the door and stepped inside, shutting and locking it quietly behind myself. The room was done in neutral colors, with a bed bigger than my own and a desk in the corner that I instantly coveted. But that was neither here nor there.

There was a small peephole installed in the door, so I situated myself to look through it. I could see the door to 345 directly across, the numbers polished to a shine. Now I just needed to wait and see who showed up. If he looked on the up and up, I could decide to go through with it, but I definitely wanted a look first.

I didn't have to wait long. Less than ten minutes later, I heard the ding of the elevator doors opening. I tensed as I kept my breathing shallow, though I doubted anyone could hear my normal breath through the door.

Footsteps.

Then two figures came into view.

Two men.

Both with knives in hand.

I stiffened as I watched one brace his back against the wall next to the door as the other inserted the key and opened it.

There was something . . . 

The one who opened the door looked back at the man who was waiting.

I froze, feeling my stomach turn over.

I knew that face.

It was the man who'd followed me before.