Phantom: Her Ruthless Villain (Ruthless Triad 5)

The tattoos on his back were a fascinating mix of east and west. A giant American-style skull surrounded by waves with an Asian influence. And for some reason, there was a wild rose inked on top of his right scapula.

The urge to touch his muscled back made me reach out a hand, but then he turned over, revealing something even more impressive than his full-back tattoo.

I blinked at the flesh, standing like a thick monument between his legs. How could he have morning wood after everything we did last night?

I rubbed my thumb against the suddenly tingling palm of the hand I’d reached out, kind of wanting to touch that too.…

But no. It was Saturday. And weekends were for getting stuff done.

I hauled myself to my feet instead of giving in to the urge to touch the huge fake fiancé sleeping in my bed. It was already eleven a.m., according to my FitBit watch. That meant I’d wasted most of the morning.

I decided to run through my usual routine anyway. Shower and shave. Then I applied my weekly orange turmeric mask while listening to the tail end of the American Top 40 countdown.

If not for the sore ache between my legs and the protests of my abductor muscles which weren’t used to being worked out like that, I might have forgotten what had transpired last night. Yes, best to go about the rest of my weekend as if nothing had happened.

I mean, who even knew if Hak-kan would still be there when I emerged from the bathroom anyway? He could disappear like last time. Call it Schrödinger’s Dragon.

However, that hypothetical question died a quick death when Hak-kan abruptly crashed through the door, his eyes hooded and sleepy.

I was brushing my teeth at the sink, so I couldn’t say good morning, but I waved at him in the mirror.

He waved back and made a beeline for the toilet.

Garrett usually asked for privacy when using the toilet, but my unexpected guest didn’t even bother to close the frosted glass door as he did his business.

And I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from the cause of that sore ache between my legs.

My gosh, he was huge. If I hadn’t witnessed so many babies coming into this world, I would have had questions about how he managed to fit that monster inside of me.

Of course, I quickly looked away when he was done and walked over to the bathroom counter.

But his cock pressed into the backside of my towel when he came up behind me and reached his arms around my waist to wash his hands as opposed to just using the other sink.

“Hey,” he said, dropping a kiss onto my shoulder.

“Hi,” I answered, trying to keep my voice casual, even though no man or woman had ever seen me in this state of disarray. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Like a fucking rock,” he answered.

He shook the water off his hands. But then, instead of moving away, he settled his chin on my shoulder and asked, “Why did you leave the last time?”

His questions still weren’t the clearest things in the world, but for once, it didn’t take me too long to catch up.

I knew that he was talking about the morning I’d left him a thank you note in an instant.

“When I woke up, you weren’t there.”

“So?” His face was a cold blank in the mirror.

“I thought you’d left. Maybe for good.”

“Da fuck you think that?”

I was startled—not only at the question but also at the aggravated anger in his tone.

“Because you weren’t there,” I answered. What was this weird circular argument?

“So you wake up alone in a dude’s penthouse, and your immediate thought is he wants you to leave?”

“Yes?” I answered, confused, because, “What else would I think? You didn’t leave a note.”

“I didn’t leave a note because I was downstairs grabbing us breakfast. I might look like a fucking monster, but I wasn’t going to let you starve after everything we did that night. But when I got back with the food, you’d split.”

“Oh…” I said, feeling silly. And weirdly complimented. All the shameful feelings I’d been carrying around about that morning after were replaced by relief…then guilt.

“Thank you for buying me breakfast. I’m sorry I left before you returned. If I’d known, of course, I would have stayed. I’ll pay you back for—”

He glared at me in the mirror. “If you really want to hear me cuss, O, finish offering to pay me back for that breakfast you missed."

I quieted—not only because I wasn’t particularly keen on hearing even more foul language from him, but also because I didn’t know what else to say.

A tense silence filled up the bathroom, but for some reason, he still didn’t move away.

“I had a serious girlfriend. Once. About eight years ago. Cute girl. Her brother was one of our recruits. So she understood the life. That made dating her real easy. We went out for about three years. She had me thinking about putting a ring on it.”