HANS: Alliance Series Book Four(21)

Hans





I stand next to my bed, holding Cassandra against my chest.

She fell back asleep in the twelve seconds it took me to get from the couch to here, and I don’t want to set her down. I don’t want to lose the weight of her in my arms.

Having her this close…

Heat simmers through my veins, and I hold her tighter.

In response, Cassandra lets out a sigh that sounds so content I feel it in my bones.

Just set her down. You can climb into bed and have her back in your arms in moments.

Accepting that I have to, I lower her to the mattress.

Cassandra makes a soft sound, then rolls onto her side.

Her hands grope at nothing, so I grab my comforter—which I’d flipped back before picking her up—and tuck it around her shoulders.

Her fingers drag the fabric up to her face, pressing it against her mouth.

Then she settles.

And she looks so right, so at home, curled up in my bed.

It’s the perfect sort of torture. Because now I know what it could be like.

Just like knowing what her mouth tastes like. Or knowing how much heat radiates from her hot little pussy when she’s worked up.

Now I know the sight of her under my blankets.

I know it, and I’ll never be able to forget it.

My heart squeezes, and I do the only reasonable thing I can. I take a photo of her with my phone, strip down to my boxer briefs, turn off the lamp, and climb into bed behind her.

I don’t bother pretending, don’t bother waiting. I move straight to her and press my front against her back, spooning her body with mine.

Cassandra lets out a deep exhale, melting into me.

The pressure in my chest intensifies.

What is it about her?

I’ve been with women. Lots of women. Some of them have been stunning. Some sweet. Some probably had the potential to be great partners. But I wasn’t interested. It never even crossed my mind to bend my concrete boundaries or to consider retirement.

Retirement.

I circle my arm around Cassandra’s waist, my forearm against her stomach and my hand tucking back between her soft body and the mattress.

I tuck my other arm under the pillow.

This feels so right.

I let my eyes close and think of the word again. Retirement.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely retire. You don’t really leave this life, not with your heart still beating.

And I won’t lie and pretend I hate it. Won’t pretend something deep inside me doesn’t love it. Doesn’t revel in the violence. But I don’t need to do every hit Karmine sends my way. She has plenty of girls who could do what I do. I’ve been doing it for so long—searching for justice and forgiveness, for so fucking long—it’s just become what is.

But now…

I sigh.

Right now, nothing has changed. People are still after me. They might always be after me. And until I can guarantee the safety of those around me, nothing will change.

I can’t keep her.

She’s not mine.

Anger claws at the base of my skull, wishing things were different.

Wishing I was different.

Only tonight, I try to convince myself as I press my nose against her hair.

Only for tonight.





CHAPTER 25





Cassie





That heady pine scent I love fills my senses and pulls my mind the rest of the way out of sleep.

Hans.

The heavy arm across my side isn’t my own. The heat at my back, the breath against my hair, the hardness against my bottom… It’s all Hans.

I take a slow breath and crack my eyes open, trying to keep my body still.

I’m in bed with Hans.

I am in a bed, with Hans.

I take another slow inhale.

A faint memory of his arms around me dances through my brain, and I have to assume he carried me in here. Which, one, I would love to be awake for that, and two, should probably worry me as much as the second sword he has mounted to the wall I’m facing.

But it doesn’t.

Hans’s decorating skills may need a little help, but this mattress is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever lain on.

With the smallest movements I can manage, I nuzzle my face into the pillow.

This pillowcase is made of the softest cotton, and the pillow’s thickness provides the perfect amount of support.

It’s like his couch and his knives. And, now that I think about it, his truck. All nice. All well taken care of.

I can’t help but wonder what he thought when he was in my house the other day. Did he like all the color and decor, or does he hate it? Does he prefer living a minimalist lifestyle?

Not that he spent much time looking around.

The length pressed against my ass twitches.

I freeze.

Suddenly, it feels imperative that I get out of here before the man behind me wakes up.

What we did in my living room was hot. Like super hot. But it was also an in the moment thing. But waking up with his big dick twitching against my ass… I don’t know how to be cool about that.

Not to mention, the man is sick. He needs to sleep so his body can recover.

I start to carefully slide from his grip.

I’ll sneak out of here and save us both the uncomfortable experience of waking up together.