Page 22 of Retaliation

He answered on the third ring. “Well, good afternoon, Little Viper.”

“You’re fucking hilarious. You know that?” she said as a way of greeting, sitting down on her couch.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you mean.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Do you have any idea what a creep my landlord is? And for you to insinuate that I’m a prostitute? The slime ball practically shoved the dollar bills into my bra.”

His laughter rang through the line, vibrating through her entire body, and she smiled.

“Fucking hilarious,” she repeated.

“I certainly thought so,” he said, once he caught his breath.

“So, I’m not even going to ask how you’re getting any of my numbers. I’m not sure I want to know. But were you calling to cancel?” She hoped not.

“I just wanted to ensure you weren’t canceling on me. I couldn’t reach you on your cell, so I tried the address.”

“I was out with a friend.”

“Oh, right. You did mention you wanted to check up on a friend,” He sounded surprised. “Anyone I would know?” The caution of their initial meeting was back in his voice. Or was it jealousy?

“No,” she answered, contemplating his response. “She’s a Normal.”

“So I’ll see you at nine?” He sounded less wary.

“I’ll see you then.”

She hung up and stared across the room. Her eye caught the time: seven o’clock. Jumping to her feet, she rushed to the bathroom to get ready.

In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to wash away the lingering annoyance from Vince.

She turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room before stepping in. As the hot water cascaded over her, she allowed herself a moment of relaxation, letting the tension melt away. Her mind wandered to Scorpion, his laughter still echoing in her ears. She felt oddly excited and nervous about their date tonight.

The buzzer echoed through her apartment precisely at nine. She took her time, applying another layer of black lipstick, before gathering her things and heading downstairs. Scorpion deserved to wait for the stunt he pulled with Vince.

She was relieved to see the lobby deserted, except for the elderly doorman, who just smiled at her passing.

Once outside, she found Scorpion leaning against his bike. With his ankles crossed and hands stuffed into

his pockets, he studied his surroundings, always surveilling.

As he turned his head in her direction, she felt the breath hitch in her throat, time stretching into an unhurried flow, and everything happened in slow motion.

His gaze, under those thick, dark lashes, traced an unhurried journey from her toes, gliding up the length of her legs, igniting a trail of unseen flames before finally locking with hers. The slow appearance of a smile, tugging at those lips she’d often thought of kissing, sent a ripple of heat coursing through her, pooling between her legs.

Fuck, he looked like trouble on two legs, and she was so ready to dive headfirst into the chaos he promised. Gone was the uniform from last night and the tailored suit of this morning. In its place was a pair of black jeans, hugging every bulging curve of his lean muscled legs, tucked into steel-tip boots. His white t-shirt, though strung impossibly tight over his sculpted chest, was a stark contrast to the tattoos crawling from his left wrist to his elbow.

He got onto his bike without a word, and she envied the machine between his legs for several reasons. He grabbed the gas tank to steady himself and planted his palms on the metal so firmly that she wished it had been her ass instead. She stood, clenching her thighs, as he reached a hand out to her.

Silently, she took it and got onto the bike.

SEVEN

Phillip was all too aware of her breasts pressed against his back, her arms tight around his chest, as he sped through the night. Not even the cold air whipping past them could calm the hardness compressed by his suddenly too-tight jeans.

He weaved through the light traffic, heading toward downtown. He had planned on taking her to the Lotus Lounge, but seeing her… those eyes, those black lips, it felt like home. And a wave of anemoia hit him so hard that it was nearly impossible to breathe. So, instead, he was taking her to the one place in this world that actually felt like home.

Her face leaned against his back, her breathing calm as she traced lazy circles with her fingers on his ribcage. Yeah, he didn’t want to share her with a crowd tonight. Instead, he stopped in front of the abandoned factory. Taking a deep breath.

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