Page 46 of Pitbull
The group chuckled.
Pitbull glanced over to see Anke had fallen asleep. The others hugged him and left him alone in the room with her. He walked over to her in the chair and hunched down beside her. Unable to stop himself, he caressed her cheek. “Anke…”
She shifted, moaned, but didn’t open her eyes.
With a smile, he bushed his lips against her hair line. “Darling…wake up.”
“Daniel, we can make love later. I’m really tired.”
Pitbull laughed softly. “Anke, open your eyes for me.”
Though she groaned, Anke did as he asked. For a moment she seemed to have forgotten where she was. When she looked back into his face, Pitbull grinned.
“So, you said we could make love later—should I hold you to that?”
Anke bowed her forehead against his shoulder and all Pitbull could do was laugh until she smacked his arm.
“Okay. Let me take you home. I can feed you, then take you to bed.”
“For sleep, Daniel Hunt. No hanky panky.”
“Scout’s honour.”
Anke crinkled her nose at him. “I have a feeling you were never a scout.”
“I admit nothing.”
Once home, Pitbull realized there was no food in the house. Instead of panicking, he ordered a pizza while Anke showered. He remained in the kitchen, shirtless and tapping away at his keyboards, going through a list of all the guys with records known to target the prostitution racket within CIRO’s jurisdiction. But he couldn’t focus.
Although he doesn’t know it yet, Daniel Hunt is mine. And if because you refuse to talk, I lose him, I’ll be coming for you.
Those where Anke’s words. He had a feeling she didn’t know anyone was on the other side of the glass. Or even if they were, they couldn’t hear what was being said. He was certain, Anke didn’t mean for him to hear those words.
Daniel Hunt is mine.
He trembled. For the first time in his life he reveled in belonging to a woman. Just the idea she claimed him made him want to charge up the stairs and crash into her body as hard as he could. He loved the idea—it made every part of him warm even as a charge of electricity rushed along his spine.
Mine.
“I hope you’re sure, Anke.” He whispered.
“Sure about what?”
He turned and eyed her. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
“Sorry.” She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.
“It’s okay.” Pitbull rubbed the back of his neck. “As for your question, I wanted to make sure you’re sure about getting into all of this. I mean, we can leave you at home with someone while we…”
“Nope. My life too and I want to fight for it.”
Pitbull nodded. He extended a hand to her and when she accepted, he pulled her into his body. Anke pressed her face into his throat and he moaned at her closeness. No words passed between them. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Pitbull wanted to soothe her, to give her words to set her mind at ease. But all he had was his body. Weak with helplessness, he kissed the side of her head. He dragged his mouth along her hairline to her forehead and placed a kiss there.
A loud knock interrupted, and he frowned. He wanted to ignore it but he was pretty sure it was the pizza he’d ordered. They could always continue after—that was why they invented microwaves.
With a sigh, he eased her away from him, checked to ensure his gun was still strapped around his thigh. Satisfied, he reached for his wallet.
Out of habit, he peered through the peeping hole and noticed something was sitting on the step, but no one was there. He frowned and made his way back to the kitchen. “Here’s what I want you to do,” Pitbull said. “I want you to go upstairs, grab the heavy blanket from the bed and crawl into the bathtub. Cover yourself with it and keep your head down. Don’t come out until I come get you. No matter what you hear…”
