Page 10 of Nine of Swords
“Just doing our jobs. Get some rest.”
“I will. Good night, Blade.”
“Night,” I answer, returning to my room.
I sit at the edge of my bed for a while, waiting for her to use the facilities and settle in. When she seems to quiet down, I use the shared washroom. On my return to keep watch at the porch outside our bedrooms, I hear her call my name as I pass her open door.
“How can I h—” I begin to ask if she needs any help, but my mouth goes dry, my dick twitches behind my boxers, and my brain stops processing when I see her sitting there wearing just her work blouse… and her high heel shoes.
Well, well.
Things are about to get interesting.
This might not be a good thing. But it’s been a while since I broke ranks and raised some hell.
Maybe this sexy little knife-loving hellcat is exactly the kind of trouble I need.
9
Blade
“I should go,”she whispers in a tone that’s as hesitant as the tentative expression on her face as she sits there on the side of the bed.
At this angle, the room is dim from the streetlight outside the window. Still, the light coming in from beyond where she sits is streaming a contrast of shadow through her sheer top. I can see the swells of her breasts where the flesh meets her ribcage, and the silhouette of her abdomen from her breasts to her waistband. As forlorn as she seems, she still manages to sit with perfect posture. It’s as though she’s holding herself together, staying strong, putting up a brave front, a façade that has just been betrayed by everything I’ve learned about her story, in her own words.
I want to see her shed all of that bravado for a minute.
Or for a night.
I’d like nothing more than to hold onto her in exactly that spot at her waist and pull her body into my lap, pressing her round, firm ass into my stiff cock.
And to tell her to relax.
To let it all go.
To just be.
Or to be… with me.
As in on her bed, against the nearest wall, or any flat surface as she so desires.
“No. You shouldn’t,” I say firmly, and flash a hint of a one sided-smile. “This is your room. I’m the one who should get out of your hair so you can relax. Unless you want me to stay. We can keep talking… or I can stay and we can just…not do any talking at all. Up to you.”
She shrugs one shoulder and looks at nothing in particular, her head still facing forward as though looking my way would give too much away. “I don’t know… it’s been a while since I opened up to anyone about myself. Or maybe I never have. I suppose we can keep talking.” She throws me a glance, and I see a bit of playfulness flash across her face. “Wait, what did you mean by we can just not talk?”
I sit beside her on the bed, resting my hand palm facing up between our legs. “I don’t have to spell it out, do I?”
Her eyes alone scan down my torso to my hand but she keeps her arms where they rest, clasped together at her knees. Then she meets my steady gaze. “Maybe you should…spell it out.”
“Really now?”
“Yes. Really. What are you thinking?”
“I’m a guy. I’m not thinking about much at all. But there’s a whole lot of other things going on… between you and me. Tell me you don’t sense it.”
“Sense what exactly?” she pries shyly.
“This. Us. Chemistry. Attraction. Fire. Whatever you want to call it. It’s been going strong since the second I put my hand around your waist and told you to keep quiet and not to move.”
