Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

She didn’t want this man’s pity. Or Drake’s for that matter. The evening had been a disaster. Well, except for the bone-melting, oh-my-GOD orgasm Drake had given her, because it had been painfully obvious to everyone at that damn club that she didn’t belong, no matter that Drake had tried to dissuade her of that notion.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

He cast a doubtful look in her direction. One that told her he saw right past her obvious lie, but then she’d never been able to deceive anyone. She was everyone’s version of Miss Goody Two-Shoes, which was why Eddie had seen her as a challenge and wanted to be the one to shame and humiliate her. To conquer the ice queen and be smug over his victory. Some victory. He’d been terrible in bed, and it had only taken Drake’s mouth and nothing else to reveal that much to her.

“Okay,” she muttered. “I will be fine. Happy? I’ll get over it. I always do.”

He frowned at that, his eyes glittering with sudden anger, but he clamped his lips shut, thank God. She had no desire to bare her soul a second time to a complete stranger as she’d done with Drake within five minutes in his presence. Her and her annoying, ridiculous habit of blurting out the truth, no matter how humiliating. She’d mentally kicked herself at least a dozen times for not telling him it wasn’t any of his business. But then there was the fact that Drake didn’t appear to her to be a man to ever be told to mind his business. She’d convinced herself that he scared the holy hell out of her, but then he’d been extraordinarily tender—and sweet—to her, and she hadn’t been able to summon fear when he was making her mindless with his mouth. But after? When she’d partially regained her senses? He definitely terrified her.

The driver rolled to a stop in front of the aging seven-story apartment building that was far older than she was. She and her girls lived on the top floor and the elevator had stopped working a year ago, something the cheap asshole landlord hadn’t ever seen fit to fix. It made carrying groceries, or even worse, walking up those six flights of stairs unbearable after a long night at work with aching, swollen feet.

Evangeline didn’t wait for the driver or Maddox to get out. She quickly opened her door and stepped onto the curb, hoping neither man would bother to get out and would be on their way, more than happy to be rid of her.

No such luck, but then nothing about this night had gone right, so why would now be any different?

Maddox climbed out on his side after checking for traffic, which wasn’t much given the lateness of the night and the fact that for all practical purposes it was a one-way street since vehicles were curbside parked on both sides, making it a tight squeeze for two cars to pass in opposite directions.

He came around to stand beside Evangeline and stared up at her dilapidated building, a scowl forming on his face.

“You live here?”

She stiffened at the implied criticism and snobbery, and she fixed him with an icy glare of her own.

“It’s all I can afford and I share it with three other roommates. We do fine. It has all we need.”

He shook his head and reached for her elbow, but she evaded his grasp.

“Thank you for the ride home,” she said, politely distant.

He ignored the obvious dismissal and his hand closed around her elbow as he herded her toward the entryway.

“I’m walking you up to your apartment.”

There was a stubborn glint in his eyes that told her no amount of arguing was going to sway him on the matter. She sighed and threw up her free hand.

“Whatever. Let’s just get it over with. I’ve had a long night and I’m ready to face-plant on my bed.”

His mouth twitched ever so slightly. She could swear he was battling a smile, but then none of the men who worked for Drake that she’d seen tonight looked like they smiled. Ever.

When he headed for the elevator, she pulled up and shook her head, directing him toward the stairs.

“The elevator doesn’t work. We’ll have to take the stairs.”

He frowned. “What floor do you live on?”

“Top,” she said, already bracing herself for his reaction.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

Then he simply bent down, gripping one of her hands and anchoring it on his shoulder.

“Hold on to me.”

She had no time to question and it was a good thing she was too befuddled and rattled to disobey his order because he lifted one foot, causing her to teeter, and slipped one of her heels off. After her bare foot was solidly back on the floor, he repeated the action with her other shoe before easing her hand back down to her waist.