Page 67
Story: Seek Him Like Shelter
“That’s part of the job sometimes,” I told her. “But, unlike the Bratva, women and children are off limits with us. If someone is killed, it’s because they are in the life and they crossed us.” I paused, watching her process that information. “What are you thinking?” I asked, unable to read her thoughts.
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “I guess I’m just imagining that if you came a couple of minutes earlier when I was being chased, and if you shot him, that I wouldn’t think that was wrong. I think sometimes it can be justified.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. I felt like maybe it wasn’t the best time to say it wasn’t always as reactive as that. Like the hit that was going down later that night. It wasn’t always noble or justified in most people’s eyes what we do, how we run our organization.
That was shit I would have to tell her eventually. If things continued to progress with us. If I wanted to, as Serano put it, claim her.
The pizza arrived then, and Serano joined us to loom silently over the table as we ate with the news playing in the background at Elizabeth’s request, wanting to keep an eye for updates on the senator’s condition. Then he headed out after a few slices.
“You’re quiet,” I said as she cradled her coffee in her hands after dinner, but didn’t so much as sip it as she stared off into the distance.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” I asked, sitting down beside her.
“What happens now. If he wakes up, do I still go to the police with the recording? If he passes, am I safe again? If not, what do I do after? Where do I go? A lot of things.”
“What do you want?” I asked. “If you got to pick anything, what would you want? To stay? To go?”
“I want to stay,” she said, looking over with so much sadness that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her, pulling her legs up over my lap. “I want to stay. And I want to go back to working for myself. And I want,” she said, her voice dipping lower.
“What do you want?” I asked, picking up on the heat in her gaze.
She reached out, settling her coffee cup on the table, then slowly moving to straddle me.
Her hands rose to frame my face as mine slid to her lower back.
“This,” she said before sealing her lips to mine.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elizabeth
I was almost overwhelmed with the potentials for my future as we ate in near silence, just listening to the news broadcasts that came with no updates on the senator’s condition.
My mind swirled with all the things that could be coming. Police interviews and fighting off the press if the senator lived and I had to let the world know what he’d been involved in. If he didn’t survive, the funeral, the press I would be in charge of until his wife officially fired me.
Then, of course, everything after that.
Different cities, different lives I could try on like outfits, all of which I was sure would feel scratchy and too tight, not quite right.
The only thing that I concluded that I knew I wanted, at least in my immediate future, for as long as I could have him, was Elian.
So just this once, I wasn’t going to weigh the pros and cons. I wasn’t going to second-guess myself. I wouldn’t let my mind get in the way of what my heart and body were begging for.
I set down my coffee then moved over him, my hands sliding up the sides of his neck to cradle his face as I lowered fully down on his lap, then sealed my lips to his.
His fingers dug into my hips as his lips came alive under mine, deepening the kiss as my arms slid around his neck, pressing my body close to his.
This, this was the only thing I was sure of in my life right then.
Elian sat up, bending me backward a bit as his lips bruised into mine, as his hands slid from my hips down to my ass, squeezing, then pulling me more fully against him.
I rocked my hips forward, feeling his hardness against me, dragging a ragged moan from deep in my chest, the sound vibrating on our lips.
Elian’s lips broke from mine, his heavy lids watching me as his hands dug further into my ass, dragging me against his cock again, this time watching me as a moan escaped me, as my head fell back and my fingers dug into his shoulders.
His hands slid from my ass, reaching up under my shirt to touch my overheated skin, then slowly draw up my shirt and toss it to the floor.
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “I guess I’m just imagining that if you came a couple of minutes earlier when I was being chased, and if you shot him, that I wouldn’t think that was wrong. I think sometimes it can be justified.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. I felt like maybe it wasn’t the best time to say it wasn’t always as reactive as that. Like the hit that was going down later that night. It wasn’t always noble or justified in most people’s eyes what we do, how we run our organization.
That was shit I would have to tell her eventually. If things continued to progress with us. If I wanted to, as Serano put it, claim her.
The pizza arrived then, and Serano joined us to loom silently over the table as we ate with the news playing in the background at Elizabeth’s request, wanting to keep an eye for updates on the senator’s condition. Then he headed out after a few slices.
“You’re quiet,” I said as she cradled her coffee in her hands after dinner, but didn’t so much as sip it as she stared off into the distance.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” I asked, sitting down beside her.
“What happens now. If he wakes up, do I still go to the police with the recording? If he passes, am I safe again? If not, what do I do after? Where do I go? A lot of things.”
“What do you want?” I asked. “If you got to pick anything, what would you want? To stay? To go?”
“I want to stay,” she said, looking over with so much sadness that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her, pulling her legs up over my lap. “I want to stay. And I want to go back to working for myself. And I want,” she said, her voice dipping lower.
“What do you want?” I asked, picking up on the heat in her gaze.
She reached out, settling her coffee cup on the table, then slowly moving to straddle me.
Her hands rose to frame my face as mine slid to her lower back.
“This,” she said before sealing her lips to mine.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elizabeth
I was almost overwhelmed with the potentials for my future as we ate in near silence, just listening to the news broadcasts that came with no updates on the senator’s condition.
My mind swirled with all the things that could be coming. Police interviews and fighting off the press if the senator lived and I had to let the world know what he’d been involved in. If he didn’t survive, the funeral, the press I would be in charge of until his wife officially fired me.
Then, of course, everything after that.
Different cities, different lives I could try on like outfits, all of which I was sure would feel scratchy and too tight, not quite right.
The only thing that I concluded that I knew I wanted, at least in my immediate future, for as long as I could have him, was Elian.
So just this once, I wasn’t going to weigh the pros and cons. I wasn’t going to second-guess myself. I wouldn’t let my mind get in the way of what my heart and body were begging for.
I set down my coffee then moved over him, my hands sliding up the sides of his neck to cradle his face as I lowered fully down on his lap, then sealed my lips to his.
His fingers dug into my hips as his lips came alive under mine, deepening the kiss as my arms slid around his neck, pressing my body close to his.
This, this was the only thing I was sure of in my life right then.
Elian sat up, bending me backward a bit as his lips bruised into mine, as his hands slid from my hips down to my ass, squeezing, then pulling me more fully against him.
I rocked my hips forward, feeling his hardness against me, dragging a ragged moan from deep in my chest, the sound vibrating on our lips.
Elian’s lips broke from mine, his heavy lids watching me as his hands dug further into my ass, dragging me against his cock again, this time watching me as a moan escaped me, as my head fell back and my fingers dug into his shoulders.
His hands slid from my ass, reaching up under my shirt to touch my overheated skin, then slowly draw up my shirt and toss it to the floor.
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