Page 21 of Pitbull
“When was the last time you had a massage?”
“Would you believe, never?”
“You need to relax more.” Anke advised. “The muscles in your neck are all knots. I’m no professional. I can’t do anything about them.”
When she released him, Pitbull caught her arm. “Please—don’t stop.”
She smiled, her cheeks heated. “Are you sure?”
“Very.”
“Okay.”
To his pleasure, she caught his shoulders in her skillful fingers once more. She sunk them into the flesh and rubbed causing him to sigh then growled. He couldn’t have stopped the sound from leaving his soul if he tried. It was as if she was the puppet master, pulling on his strings, making him dance.
In the moment, when the pleasure became too much, he caught her arm and turned to face her. The urge to kiss her rage inside him and he knew she could tell. There was a certain way she gasped and bit against her bottom lip that confirmed to him, Anke knew precisely what he wanted. Though if she knew how badly he yearned for it, she would turn and run and never look back. She stared into his eyes and Pitbull allowed her. He wanted her to find whatever it was she had been looking for in him.
His body heated where he held her arm. The soft flesh beneath his gun roughened hands soothed him. It was almost as if he didn’t remember what a woman was supposed to feel like—it had been so long.
Though Anke didn’t pull away, Pitbull knew the reason she was with him wasn’t for love or lust. No matter what he thought of her he couldn’t give in the fancies of his body. As a professional, he had to keep whatever was pulsing inside him at bay. The most important thing was to find Claudia before it was too late so the two of them could be on their way. Until then, Pitbull had to stay out of trouble.
“I know.” Anke’s voice cracked. “I know what’s happening right now and we can’t.”
“Why? Just so I know.”
“You have your doctor, Daniel.”
“Call me Pitbull.”
She pulled her arm away. “I should go take a shower.”
Pitbull nodded. “Yeah. Maybe that’s for the best.”
He watched the way her hips moved as she left him. A shard of electricity tore through his veins bringing all the hairs on his body to stand on end. It burned sweetly at ever big of him making him bite back a moan then squeeze his eyes closed.
Whatever the moment between the two of them—could not happen again. He was stronger than this—better than letting a soft touch affect him so deeply. Pitbull wondered if this was how hard Beast found being with Miracle. If it was a struggle, Pitbull knew he was in serious—serious—trouble. Beast had lost the fight and now Miracle stood strong by his side and in his bed. But love wasn’t always black or white.
Ugh—I’m starting to sound like a damn novel.
Pitbull dragged his fingers roughly through his hair and pushed from the chair. The views outside did nothing to assuage the turmoil inside him and he longed for a stiff drink. But he had to remain focused, clear-headed. He had to be ready in case Tex and the others found something that needed his immediate attention. No matter how hard his body grew in her presence, no matter how much she made his heart race and her lips called for his kiss—Anke Fischer was off limits.
6
Long after she all but fled the office, Anke pressed her back to the closed door and exhaled long and hard and loud. It would have been so easy to kiss Daniel—to let him take her mouth and drink his fill. She had no doubt a man like him knew just how to kiss a woman to make her do whatever he wanted. But what kind of woman throws themselves at their best friend’s brother?
Though she said she wanted to take a shower, Anke’s brain was too busy and she feared she’d drown. Bravely, she ventured back out to find Daniel in the kitchen tapping away at the keys of a laptop. He glanced up at her but only for a moment but it wasn’t with the same eyes as the man who’d caught her arm earlier. There was no denying he oceans for eyes for her to get lost in and wouldn’t even care.
This man seemed uninterested in what he was looking at when their gazes locked. Anke coughed and took a seat on one of the stools.
“Um—what’re you doing?” She asked.
“Some research.”
“Oh—on what?”
“Missing persons.”
“Oh—do you think someone might have reported Claudia missing?”
