Page 33
Story: The Russian Retribution
“You’re taking things too seriously,” I remark. “What would an intruder want with my milk?”
“That’s not…” Erik sighs wearily. “You could have been in trouble.”
“Oh, no,” I tease with a smirk. “Someone save me from overboiling the milk and catching my fingers on the grater.”
Erik rolls his eyes and sets his gun down on the counter. “I take your safety seriously.”
“Stalker much?”
“And yet you thank me each time I save your life.”
“Yes. Well, thank you, but as you can see, the greatest threat to my life right now is bacteria.” I resume my stirring, then pause and playfully narrow my eyes at him. “Actually, I was in here for quite a while before you appeared. Are you sure you have decent alerts?”
Erik huffs out a breath as he moves closer. Soon, he’s standing next to me with intense heat radiating from his bare torso. “I was asleep, so it took me a second. Which means you also should be asleep?”
“Oh, I totally am. This is all a dream.”
“Oh, really?” He looks at me, and I lift my attention to his eyes. In the dull light, his eyes look like pools of ink and shadows dance across his handsome face, highlighting just how angular his jaw is. Warmth curls through my gut and settles down between my legs.
“Yes.” All thought of milk and hot chocolate fades from my mind as a new, much more intense distraction presents itself. “And in my dream, I’m in control.”
“How so?” Erik’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, then they flick down to my lips.
My heart skips a beat. I told myself this would never happen again. It couldn’t. Erik is my bodyguard, security advisor, and technically, an employee. Any of those reasons should keep me away from dirty thoughts, but as he stands here, all I can think about is how sexy he looks.
And how effective an orgasm is in sending me to sleep.
“When did you get this?” I delicately press my fingers against the tattoo resting on his chest. His heartbeat thrums beneath my touch and excitement jumps through my arm.
“My tattoo?” He glances down at the hourglass anchor nestled among colorful roses. “After I left the army.”
“Does it have meaning? Or did you think it looked cool?”
“Both. I wanted a reminder that time is precious. Hard to forget after I lost my parents and my sister.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happens. But I also wanted to remember to be strong and fair. Hence the anchor, and then the flowers.” His chest flexes faintly underneath my fingertips.
“It’s difficult to hold those values in this life.”
“True. So I focus on those close to me. I can’t save the world. I can’t even save myself, but I can make sure that I do what I can to keep true to myself and keep my people safe.”
“Including me?”
“Including you.”
“But I’m your boss.” I trace the tattoo lightly. “Does being paid to keep me safe fit in with those morals?”
“Sure,” Erik replies softly. “No reason I can’t benefit from my morals, right?”
Laughter rises in me, unexpected and soft. “I’m sure that’s how mercenaries sleep at night.”
“Helps me.”
“And this?” I touch his other tattoo on his arm just below his elbow.
“That one was to look cool,” Erik replies, flexing under my touch. “Nothing cool there.”
“That’s not…” Erik sighs wearily. “You could have been in trouble.”
“Oh, no,” I tease with a smirk. “Someone save me from overboiling the milk and catching my fingers on the grater.”
Erik rolls his eyes and sets his gun down on the counter. “I take your safety seriously.”
“Stalker much?”
“And yet you thank me each time I save your life.”
“Yes. Well, thank you, but as you can see, the greatest threat to my life right now is bacteria.” I resume my stirring, then pause and playfully narrow my eyes at him. “Actually, I was in here for quite a while before you appeared. Are you sure you have decent alerts?”
Erik huffs out a breath as he moves closer. Soon, he’s standing next to me with intense heat radiating from his bare torso. “I was asleep, so it took me a second. Which means you also should be asleep?”
“Oh, I totally am. This is all a dream.”
“Oh, really?” He looks at me, and I lift my attention to his eyes. In the dull light, his eyes look like pools of ink and shadows dance across his handsome face, highlighting just how angular his jaw is. Warmth curls through my gut and settles down between my legs.
“Yes.” All thought of milk and hot chocolate fades from my mind as a new, much more intense distraction presents itself. “And in my dream, I’m in control.”
“How so?” Erik’s eyes dart back and forth between mine, then they flick down to my lips.
My heart skips a beat. I told myself this would never happen again. It couldn’t. Erik is my bodyguard, security advisor, and technically, an employee. Any of those reasons should keep me away from dirty thoughts, but as he stands here, all I can think about is how sexy he looks.
And how effective an orgasm is in sending me to sleep.
“When did you get this?” I delicately press my fingers against the tattoo resting on his chest. His heartbeat thrums beneath my touch and excitement jumps through my arm.
“My tattoo?” He glances down at the hourglass anchor nestled among colorful roses. “After I left the army.”
“Does it have meaning? Or did you think it looked cool?”
“Both. I wanted a reminder that time is precious. Hard to forget after I lost my parents and my sister.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happens. But I also wanted to remember to be strong and fair. Hence the anchor, and then the flowers.” His chest flexes faintly underneath my fingertips.
“It’s difficult to hold those values in this life.”
“True. So I focus on those close to me. I can’t save the world. I can’t even save myself, but I can make sure that I do what I can to keep true to myself and keep my people safe.”
“Including me?”
“Including you.”
“But I’m your boss.” I trace the tattoo lightly. “Does being paid to keep me safe fit in with those morals?”
“Sure,” Erik replies softly. “No reason I can’t benefit from my morals, right?”
Laughter rises in me, unexpected and soft. “I’m sure that’s how mercenaries sleep at night.”
“Helps me.”
“And this?” I touch his other tattoo on his arm just below his elbow.
“That one was to look cool,” Erik replies, flexing under my touch. “Nothing cool there.”
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