cares. Elle hasn’t asked me anything about fashion or what looks good in forever. I have absolutely no fashion sense, and mostly I just don’t care. I just throw stuff on.
“Thought it might look nice.” Everything about him seems dark and big. Almost scary. I really noticed it when I was studying him moving in the kitchen. He’s right. I should have been scared when I walked into my apartment and he was just standing there. He’s built like a freaking giant. His dark eyes and dark hair feed into the deadly edge. I’m sure he could just snap someone in half if he needed to. The tattoos and scars only add to his whole “I could snap you in half or go Hulk smash on you” mystique.
But when I first saw him, I knew something about him just felt right. I felt a pull to him like nothing I’ve ever known before. Heck, I am doing things with him I’ve never even thought about doing with anyone before.
“And what would you suggest?” he asks, like he’d actually do whatever it is I’d suggest.
“A cupcake?” I half-joke, thinking he’d never do that. “It could go right next to that skull.”
Drake throws back his head and laughs. It rocks his body and makes me smile. I seem to even like him doing that, too. Everything he does gets me worked up. It makes me want to be wrapped around him again.
“I’m glad I’m moving in. I think I’ll keep you. We seem to work better than I do with most people,” I confirm. Yes. That seems logical. I could watch him all the time. Though I’m not sure how much work I’ll get done. When I sat down at the breakfast bar, I’d intended to work on my laptop a little. I have a project that I need to get wrapped up—a big one—but my eyes couldn’t seem to leave him.
“You keep saying ‘move in here’ like it’s permanent. Is that what you’re meaning, or am I not understanding you?”
“Is that not…” I pause, trying to think back to what he said. Something about staying with him and I’d be safe. He’d be my bodyguard while he found out who was stalking me. I drop my eyes away from him, feeling embarrassed. It’s a feeling I’m not used to. “You just meant until you find out who’s stalking me.”
I can’t bring myself to look up at him. Is this what all those guys feel like when Elle tells them to hit the road? I suddenly feel bad for them.
I sense him before he even touches me, standing by my side. Then he cups my face in his hand, making me look up at him. Even with me sitting in the high-top chair, he’s still ridiculously taller than me. He bends down a little, bringing our faces closer.
“You can stay here as long as you like.” He moves in a little closer. “I work better with you than I do with most people, too.”
“Really?” I wiggle forward a little bit, wanting to be closer to him. My ass is practically hanging off the chair.
In one movement, he picks me up, takes my seat, and puts me onto his lap. My body straddles his thick thighs, and I settle against him perfectly.
“Yeah, really.” He uses one hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. “When your sister came to me about you and I saw your picture, I knew I’d be the one to take your case personally. I don’t do personal bodyguarding anymore. I have men for that.”
“Did you see a picture of my sister, too?” I ask, wanting to know. If Elle were here, she would have given me one of her elbow nudges to let me know it was a question I shouldn’t be asking. Nine times out of ten, I know when I’m saying something I shouldn’t. I’m not stupid, but subtlety just isn’t a skill I could ever get myself to pick up. If I had a question, I asked it or found a way to get the answer.
“I saw hers first.”
“And?” I nudge.
“And what?” His eyebrows come together like he doesn’t understand what I’m getting at.
“You didn’t want to guard her?”
“Like I told you, I put a guard on her.” He grips my hips in a firm hold. “ I’m guarding you. I