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A comfortable silence stretches between us for almost the rest of the ride. When we finally arrive, the sky is pitch black, stinging with enough stars to outshine the moon.
Instead of parking directly in front of the building, I park further away, ducked in the trees, since it happens to be stuffed in the woods. I get out of the car, the pricking air bitch-slapping me straight in the face. I hate the cold; it makes my balls tight and my fingers numb. I purse my lips, jamming my fist into the opening of my pockets.
I meet Anita on the other side of the car, her shoulders near her jawline, and her hands stuffed in her black bubble coat; it’s not thick enough to withstand the chills.
Her foot goes to walk further, but I put out my hand. “Wait.”
Her brows scrunch together, looking at my hand. I open the trunk of the truck. Pushing aside a hammer, an ax, and a few guns, I grab a thick coat with thick fur stitched inside and a hood attached. Something I’ve kept in my car for purposes when the weather kicks my ass, but it’ll come in handy for her instead. I shift to her. “Take that off.”
Her mouth parts and her face scrunches further with a quizzical look. “Excuse me?”
“Unless you want to die from hypothermia, take it off. It won’t keep you warm.” I rotate my fingers over her jacket, shaking my head.
She clutches the zippers of her coat. “It does the job,” she defends as her shoulders quivers a little.
I raise a brow, watching her. “Off.”
She huffs, crossing her arm, her foot tapping on the pieces of tree bark. “Have you heard of ‘can you and please?’”
I roll my eyes up, my teeth gripping together. Stubborn as shit. Unfortunately, I like it. I let out a deep huff, looking back at her. I inch closer, her body rigid from the cold air. Normally. She’ll step back when I am near her. I’m guessing it’s because she never knows what I’ll do. Her guard is forever up, ready to deliver her venom. However, I never want her to be afraid of me.
Never. Her fire ignites my flame, burning my mess and leaving beautiful ashes in its path. If anything, she terrifiesme.
“Can you,” my body is now towering over her, “put on the damn jacket before I force it on myself. Please.”
Her lips part in utter disbelief. “You are so insufferable.”
I shrug with a bored stare and continue holding the coat up. Her eyes roll, and a frustrated groan comes out, seeing that I’mnot going to change my mind on it. She glances at the coat in my hand—that seems to take an appeal to her by the way she shifts on her feet. Her stubbornness relents.
“Okay fine!” She backs away and quickly takes off her little coat, so the unfriendly air doesn’t mutilate her bones. Her teeth scrape over her plump bottom lip. I take the coat from her, tossing it over my forearm, instead of her taking it directly out of my hands. I step behind her, placing the thick jacket over her frame. Securing it tightly before swooping my hands through her nape and the hoodie to pull her hair out. My stomach flips; I finally get to touch her hair again. My guilty pleasure. I lean in without her noticing and sniff softly. My body tingles from her vanilla scent filling my nose. A week too long for me. I quickly part my lips and bite her hair, letting my spit from my tongue to soak it a little. I don’t pull. I only give that much before I pull away like I’ve done nothing.
It’s nothing more than a small touch.
I stroll around, facing her innocently, before reaching down to the zipper. My eyes gazing down at her, and she looked up at me whilst zipping the jacket up. The tall trees cover up the crescent moonlight. It helps with giving light to the night, but there’s nothing stopping me from still etching out her entire face.
Memories of her legs wrapped around my waist, grinding on me, and moaning in my mouth plasters like a billboard; her begging mepleaseto make her cum. She submits wonderfully behind the Venom.
We don’t move, nor do our eyes waver. I want to kiss her.
Another jerk in my pants snaps me out of it. Four blinding lights flash on the side of us; we both look in the direction, making Anita step back, and my hand to fall down, irritation settling in me from the bright ass lights and the interruption.
I can’t be angry. I want this.
The car shuts off and a door slam; boots and rocks being kicked from under their feet sound out in the night air.
“Fucking balls, it’s cold,” Mal says, walking toward us with her hoodie jacket duo and black gloves on.
Boone walks behind her; the large coat he is wearing appears small on him.
I turn, tossing Anita’s coat in the trunk before grabbing two guns and slamming the trunk back.
Without looking, I pass Anita the gun. “We see what we can handle. Scope out the area. See how many men, routes, ins, and outs there are.”
She takes the gun from my grip, her fingers grazing across my knuckles sending an electric wave down my cold back.
Ignore it.
“Any questions?” I place the gun in the holster, waiting for any concerns or ideas. I’ve never been the guy to leave his team voiceless and unheard. I’m open to suggestions, as long as it doesn’t get us killed, and, of course, if it’s not stupid. My gaze lands on each of them. Anita’s the longest because I can’t help it.