“When the time comes, I won’t be a gentleman. I’ll be the asshole who said I told you so.”
She threw a fit when I didn’t knock last time, but since she was sexy when she was pissed, I did it again. I picked the lock and let myself inside.
She stood in the entryway, the gun hanging at her side. She was livid like last time. “What did we just talk about?”
I loved the way her green eyes burned as if they were on fire. Her lips pressed tightly together like she was trying not to scream at me. Her petite frame was a direct contradiction to her enormous presence. Everything about her was sexy, including the way she held the gun like she knew how to use it. Even the scar on her shoulder was a turn-on. “Fuck, you’re hot when you’re pissed.” I grabbed my tie and loosened it as I stepped inside.
“I warned you I would shoot you.”
I grabbed her arm and placed the barrel right against my sternum. “Then do it.”
She immediately lifted her finger off the trigger, scared she might accidentally pull it. She drew it back and set it on the table beside the door. “I’m serious, Cato. Stop just walking inside at night like that. You can have a key if you really want one.”
“You want to give me a key?” I asked, shocked that she’d offered.
“It’s better than having a heart attack every time you come to the door. At least I’ll know it’s you.”
I knew she wasn’t looking for a relationship, so there was only one other reason she would offer something like that. My eyes narrowed as I looked at her pretty face. “Baby, who bothers you?”
There was a quick reaction in her eyes, but it happened so fast, at the speed of a shooting star, I wasn’t sure if I really saw it or not. She crossed her arms over her chest then moved to the door so she could close it. “No one. I live out here alone and…what the hell is that?”
I turned around and looked out the open door. The only thing I saw was the car lights from my security team. They spread out everywhere around the property, keeping a one-mile perimeter so no one could come and go without their knowledge. “My guys. They’ll be there until I leave in the morning.”
She poked her head out and took a look around, seeing the faint lights from their phones and cars. “How many are there?”
“Fifty.”
“And they’ll just stay there the entire time?”
“Yes.” I didn’t go anywhere without them following me. I didn’t even pick up a cup of coffee without them trailing behind me. “You don’t need to be uncomfortable with them.”
“Ugh, there are fifty armed men around my property. That’s pretty scary.”
“They would never hurt you.”
“Still don’t like it.” She walked back into the house.
I followed her then shut the door behind me.
“Would it be easier if we just went to your place?” She grabbed the gun on the table and returned it to its hiding spot underneath the coffee table. “Because it’s pretty obvious you have an entire squad surrounding the property.”
It would be simpler if we went to my place, but there was something about her quaint place I liked. I liked the paintings she had on the walls, the atmosphere she created with her presence. It was small, barely big enough for a man my size to get comfortable, but I still liked it. “Don’t worry about it.” I pulled my tie from around my neck and tossed it on the couch. I moved to my vest and jacket next before I could finally reach my collared shirt underneath.
She watched me undress. “Had a big day?”
“Something like that.” I tossed my shirt on the couch and stood in my slacks.
She was in a tank top without a bra and little white shorts. Her makeup was gone, and her hair was in a ponytail. She didn’t look as hot as she did in a backless dress and heels, but seeing her like this was somehow sexier. She didn’t need any of that stuff to be totally fuckable.
What was sexier than that?
I undid my slacks then kicked off my shoes.
She watched me strip down to my boxers. “So, you’re just gonna get naked in my living room?”
“Do you want me not to get naked?”
She pressed her lips together tightly and didn’t answer. “I have some leftover dinner. Are you hungry?”
A woman had never offered anything to me before. Maybe I never gave them a chance, but this was a first-time experience. The only home-cooking I’d ever had was my mother’s. “I’m not hungry. But thank you.”
“Wine or anything?”
“No. I just want to go to bed.”
“Oh?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You just come by whenever you want and—”