Page 32 of Pitbull
“All right, come back here,” Beast said. “I’m going to assume you didn’t get much sleep last night, Pit. I say you pick up Anke and the both of you get some sleep. Report back to HQ later tonight around seven. If they are going to be moving anything, they want the cover of darkness to do it in.”
Pitbull frowned but he twisted the key in the ignition. “Yes, sir.”
With the call over, Pitbull pulled from the curb. He kept a watch on the store for as long as he could then focus forward again.
The moment they made it back to the house, Anke went into the kitchen. Pitbull changed into a pair of jeans and stood by the door watching as she opened containers from the night before and sniffed. Neither of them had bothered to put anything away. But Anke seemed satisfied with what she smelled so she set the put back on the stove and turned it on.
“You really don’t have to,” he said.
She gasped and whirled around while reaching for a knife. Pitbull arched a brow.
“Jesus, Pitbull!” Anke pointed the knife at him. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Did you just call me Pitbull?” He quirked a brow. “No more Daniel, Anke?”
“Really?” She frowned at him, setting the knife on the counter. “Nothing about scaring me half to death?”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to startle you. Now, stand still so I can kiss you.”
“Oh no.” She moved so the island was between them. “We can’t keep doing that. I don’t want to be anyone’s second choice or guilt.”
“Are we still talking about Mack?”
“Of course we are! Are you always this slow?”
Pitbull laughed. The little minx who had taken heated pleasure from his mouth was serious about Mack. He moved to one side but she only slid around to keep the island between them. “Anke?”
“We really shouldn’t.”
“Mack and I have been friends for many years.” Pitbull explained. “There has never been anything sexual about our relationship and there never will be.”
“Right—you expect me to believe this woman with legs for days and dark hair long enough to pull on has never been to your bed?”
“She’s not my type.”
“Daniel…”
“I thought it was Pitbull now.” He teased.
“Can you be serious for one second?” Anke growled. “This is confusing. You and Mack…”
“Friends.”
“I see.”
“Now, with that out of the way—Anke. I really need to kiss you again.”
She sighed and for a moment, Pitbull thought for sure she’d come to him. But she merely raised her hands.
“I can’t—I mean you scare me.”
“Do you think I would hurt you?”
“Not on purpose—I er, not really. You’re so big and you standing there covered in tattoos without a shirt with your cum gutters—”
“Um—my what?”
“Cum gutters…” She pointed to the well sculpted V leading down beneath the waist of his pants. “Those.”
