“You must think pretty highly of yourself if you think I’d go through that effort for you,” I breathed, walking back with him pursuing each step.
“Still pretending you don’t like me?” Hands I’d come to know just by the calluses on his palms raked beneath my shirt, scratching deliciously. “That shticks getting old, don't you think?”
“Nope. It’s cute that you still think I’m pretending not to like you.”
“It’s been two years. If you didn’t like me,” playful eyes the color of dark chocolate fixed to mine, “Why do you keep me around?”
“If you’re just trying to make me say it's because of your dick…” I rolled my lips together, trying to hold in a smile. “It's working.”
“Ah, well.” He batted an expression that shined with mirth. “I was hoping you’d say my sparkling personality, but you loving my cock is good enough for now.”
“You’re so fucking dumb, Demitri,” I laughed, breaking our stare.
I could still feel his gaze on the side of my face, staring past all of the barriers he’d taken a javelin to over the last couple years. “Yeah. Maybe. Why else would I fly out here for a woman who still refuses to accept that she loves me?”
Turning my attention back to Demitri, I lowered my voice. “Because you can’t resist me.”
My words circled his irises, burning the brown over to embered black. “You are my favorite addiction. There’s no denying that.”
An odd but not totally unfamiliar tension blossomed between us as his words lingered, starting from him and trying to break its way down to me. The tension wrapped around my stomach, begging to be let in past the layers of my clothes.
Demitri had my body, but he never made it a secret that he wanted more.
I didn’t let the moment last long enough to matter before I fisted my hands in his classic black shirt and pulled his mouth back down to mine. Wherever he went, whatever the occasion or time of year, Demitri wore black. His closet was a black parade of pants, shirts, and suits, even down to his socks and briefs.
Demitri tasted like cinnamon smoke, and I fucking loved it. He filled my lungs with soot and my veins with tar, slowing everything in my body to a thick fog. He took me out of my own head and out of my own body.
No one else could dull the pain like Demitri could, and he didn’t care how I had to use him to feel the nothing I craved.
Demitri kissed away the fire in my blood that was a constant, burning ache. His lips were the rain and his tongue was a remedy, licking over my wounds and sealing off the bleeding for only a few short hours. He smothered the flames out to a puff of a memory for long enough that I kept coming back to him. Time and time again, I called, and he came running to soothe my screams to a hush.
It never lasted more than a few hours, and it always came back worse than when the pain left, but I didn’t care. The few hours of relief were worth it.
“I didn’t know we’d have an audience,” Demitri murmured, parting our kiss to nod in Agent Reyes' direction. “Should we fuck on top of him?”
I barked out an unladylike laugh. “No. I just need to get outta here.”
“This guy’s FBI?”
“Yup.”
“Didn’t know the FBI started hiring J. Crew models,” he quipped under his breath.
The comment caused me to pause on Agent Reyes' sleeping face. I wasn’t blind enough to not see that Agent Reyes was astonishingly good looking. Like, turning-heads-on-the-street kind of good looking. Full lips, a strong jawline decorated with dark hair thicker than a five o’clock shadow, and sharp features from his nose to his high cheekbones.
But looks mattered jackshit if the rest of the package was a dumpster fire.
“Yeah, but his personality is trash so,” I said with a shrug, watching the tug of satisfaction pull up on Demitri’s face. Demitri wasn’t a jealous man, and even if he was, I wasn’t his to be jealous over. Things with Demitri were easy and simple. Stupid and reckless.
“Becca and Alec are downstairs at one of the craps tables, by the way. So we should probably get down there before they spend all of my money.”
I touched my hand to my chest, feigning surprise. “Are you trying to tell me that they heard I texted you to come to Vegas to rescue me and they tagged along uninvited? That sounds nothing like them.”
Demitri’s eyes glinted as he smiled at me. “I know. I was shocked too.”
“We can meet them. Just give me a second.”
I searched the hotel room, looking for the flash of steel that’d been around my wrists just earlier. Just in case. There they sat on the edge of Reyes’ bed, winking a smile up at me. I grabbed the handcuffs with zeal, catching Demitri’s curious gaze as I walked over to the side of the bed Agent Reyes had crashed out on.
With a careful tug, I latched one end of the unflattering bracelet around his wrist, and the other I anchored around the bed’s post. A grunt chuckle pushed between my lips as I looked down at him, eyes shut and mouth parted as he slept.
“Sorry bastard never knew what he was getting into with you,” Demitri mused behind me, observing my masterpiece.
“Not at all. My dad really did him dirty.”
“You ready to head out?” Demitri snagged my attention back to him, his arm already propping the door to my freedom open.
“Those are magic words, Demitri. Magic words.”
And I rode that magic right out the door, closing it and leaving my burly baggage behind to rot.