K nods, brushing his thumb across my lips. Then he’s gone.
I slump into a chair, taking a moment to recover from the whiplash of shifting emotions so quickly. From paralyzed with fear to nearly orgasming on K’s lap to laughing and joking around with the usually reticent man—my head is spinning.
Now that I’m no longer in the safety of K’s arms, anxiety floods my system and I begin to shake. My teeth actually chatter from the adrenaline letdown. I reach into the neck of my shirt and pull out my pendant, squeezing it in my hand. Memories… my memories are coming back. Visions of huddling under the desk in the school’s office flicker through my mind. And K’s eyes. What is it about them?
Thankfully, no one enters Gabriel’s office while I fall to pieces. The only thing worse than remembering would be everyone knowing why I freaked out.
6
Killer
I’ve never been so relieved to get on a plane in my life. The last two weeks have been brutal. Between cutting weight, training, dealing with that idiot Jackson and that sick fuck Max, plus having no clue how to process my feelings for Britt after what happened in Gabriel’s office, I’m a fucking wreck.
I close my eyes and think about that day. Seeing the normally fearless girl—the only one who can look me in the eye—so vulnerable, huddled on the floor cowering in fear, was shocking. And it takes a hell of a lot to shock me, especially since I don’t usually feel anything. But having her pressed against me, it was so right, so perfect. The desire to have that again is so strong, it’s all I think about when she’s around.
I tried to avoid Britt after mauling her like an animal, but every time I turned around she was there, too close, too warm, smelling too fucking good. If I didn’t know how sweet she was, how innocent and good, I would have thought she was getting some perverse pleasure in torturing me with her presence.
The empty seat next to me sinks down and I inhale a soft breeze of citrus. It wraps around my dick, jerking it from soft to hard in a heartbeat.
Fuck.
“K.” Britt’s voice caresses my stiffening cock, making it throb painfully in my jeans. “Are you nervous for the fight?”
My fingers tighten around the armrests. How the hell am I supposed to talk to her here? We’re in an extremely small, enclosed space, she smells so good, and now my dick is so goddamn hard. All I want to do is push her to the bathroom, push up her obscenely short skirt and bury myself in heaven. Three weeks since I kissed her and I’m more obsessed than ever. I don’t even need her sitting next to me to get me hard. Hell, Roxie made me a citrus protein shake the other day and I started to sprout wood at the front desk of the gym just from the scent.
“No, Britt. I’m not nervous,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Oh.”
She sounds odd, unlike the perky girl I’m used to. Against my better instincts I give in and turn toward her sitting in the aisle seat on my right. Sunlight is filtering through the small window to my left, highlighting every inch of her gorgeous face. High cheekbones, a delicate nose with a slight upturn, a smattering of light-colored freckles across the bridge and continuing beneath those piercing blue eyes—she’s stunning.
And I’m staring.
“Sorry.” I slouch down in my seat until my hoodie covers my eyes. If I let her in any more than I already have, Britt could easily peel back my defenses until I’m exposed and squirming under her gaze. Better to hide, to keep her at arm’s length so she won’t figure out I’m not the man she thinks I am. I’m not a man at all. I’m a monster. A killer. She deserves better than half a human with a black heart and no soul.
“I didn’t mean to bother you, K.” I flinch when her warm hand curls around my wrist. Against every rational thought I have, I push back my hood and meet her intense gaze. She’s leaning out of her seat, her entire body turned toward me. “Jack kept bugging me.” Britt uses her thumb to point over her shoulder and rolls her eyes, smiling.
Of course he is. That fucking douche is begging for a flying knee strike to the face.
My revulsion must be evident. “Don’t worry,” Britt laughs. “I can handle Jack.”
“I’ll handle him if he doesn’t fuck the hell off,” I growl.
Britt’s eyes widen and she shoots me a huge grin. Her hand tightens around my wrist. My calmed-down cock fills up again in less than three seconds.
“That’s sweet of you.”
What? She thinks it’s sweet that I want to rip Jack’s arms off his body and beat him to death with them?
Britt gives my arm one last pat before sitting back and placing her hands in her own lap. She pulls a book out of her bag, cracks it open, and begins to read. Naturally, I’m gaping at her like a teenager who saw his first pair of tits. Great, now I’m thinking about her tits.