My tongue was wooden. “Uh. Yes.” Very much no. Get it together, Marina. “I can carry it, it's not heavy.”
He slid the bag off of me. I didn't even stop him.
My purple sack hung across his chest, indenting his shirt and displaying the groove between his pecs. “It's even less heavy for me. Come on, let's get out of here. I don't want people seeing my car.”
Steeling my nerves, I told my feet to follow him. My finger poised on the light when I reached the door. He waited for me to open it. I did, then turned back to gaze over the room.
My tiny, messy home.
I didn't know what was ahead of me. I only knew that, if I stayed here, this was what I would get to keep; a cold, desolate place to rest my nightmare fueled head.
Flicking the light off, I locked up and didn't look back.
- Chapter 7 -
Kite
––––––––
I could smell her sweat in the car. I'd felt her constant shift between confidence and unease since the start. If she'd been anyone else—and I wished she was—I would have had her against the wall of her apartment.
Shit, maybe before then.
Pressing her against the car window, seeing her breath fog it up... the idea made me rock hard. Marina was a walking beacon of sex and boldness. I liked that. Probably too much.
I'd wanted to kiss her the instant she'd swayed into my life. Now, knowing what she knew about me, that idea had to be shoved aside.
Giving in to my basest of urges was too risky. I'd told her, leaving evidence was a mistake. Fucking her and digging my teeth into her shoulder, my cock feeding between her lovely thighs, it would be a map that pointed back to me.
I needed to hold back.
“This way,” I said, shutting Jacob's car and locking it with his keys. It beeped in the packed garage. Marina looked around, studying the space. I'd seen how wide her eyes had gotten when we rolled up to the building. “What's wrong?”
She blinked, scanning the cars. “Nothing.”
Following her eyes, I noticed where she was looking. My sunset colored Mercedes stood out among the vehicles. The corner of my lip twitched. She recognizes it, doesn't she? If she'd been stalking me at the bar, no doubt she'd watched me park it there before.
Hoisting her bag, I headed towards the stairs. “Hurry up.”
“Can't we take the elevator?” she asked, pointing.
I didn't slow down, my shoes clopping on the first step. “Sorry, not possible.”
Marina followed me, standing in the stairwell. Her delicate eyebrows were making deep grooves. “No cameras this way, is that it?”
Chuckling, I looked down at her from the sixth step. “Clever. Yes, no cameras.”
“If you don't want a record of me being here, it won't work.” Folding her arms, Marina shrugged. “Someone is going to see me eventually.”
“Seeing isn't the same as being recorded.” Turning, I started my climb. I wondered if she knew why I wanted no record. “It's a long way, come on.”
It took her a minute before she followed me.
Only fifteen minutes later, she stopped again. “No,” she huffed, wiping sweat from her face. She'd tied her hair back during the climb. The nape of her neck was hard to look away from. “I don't think I can do this. How much higher do we have to go?”
“I live on the twentieth floor. This is the twelfth.”
Marina pushed through the doorway on the landing.
“Hey!” I hissed.
Ignoring me, she was halfway into the hall before I reached her, snatching her by the upper arm and yanking her back into the stairwell. It was a smooth series of movements, the door shutting softly behind me in spite of my speed.
I pushed her against the wall, my lips inches from hers. “What are you doing?” I growled.
Wide-eyed, the sheen on her cheeks glistened. “I—I was going to take the elevator.” Shaking herself, she tried to regain her composure. With my fingers digging into her shoulders, it was hard. “Let go of me.”
Her breasts were touching my chest; I hadn't realized until that moment.
Fuck, she smells so good.
My cock gave an argumentative throb when I peeled my hands off of her. “Don't just act without telling me first. We're trying to keep a low profile.”
“You're being too cautious,” she said. Rubbing her arms, she erased where I had held her. “If I'm living with you guys, I'm not going to climb twenty fucking floors every single day. And I'm clearly not staying in your apartment for every hour.”
“I said no elevator.”
“You said you didn't want a record,” she argued. Pushing off the wall, Marina stood on her toes until we were eye level. “Is there a camera actually recording in the elevator?”
My molars creaked. “No. It's someone watching the live feed.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she purposefully grabbed the door handle. With me glowering, she opened it. “Then let's take the elevator, and I'll make sure not to look at the camera.”
She was right, and I hated that. “Fine. But follow my lead.”