Add to that the uncertainty that he might change his mind and kill me at any moment? Yeah, whatever, I had damage. No one was arguing that fact. I was a sucker for the danger.
Maybe that’s why Kai was still lurking inside my head and heart.
3982: You don’t already know?
His reply came instantly as I strode through the hotel foyer to collect my key from reception.
6279: Of course I do, I just wanted to see if you’d tell me.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t reply as I took the plastic card from the hotel receptionist, then headed for the elevators.
6279: I don’t usually like disobedience, but I like yours.
Groaning, I bit my lip and tried really hard not to picture Leon smacking my ass for disobeying him. That visual was way too freaking easy to conjure up now that I’d seen his psychotic side.
3982: Am I safe here?
The question was loaded. If he knew where I was already, it was possible Blanchet did, too. But I was also asking if I was safe from him. Had he changed his mind about keeping me alive? If the Circle gave an official kill order for me, would he feel obligated to complete the contract? Leon was even more dedicated to his job than I was… and I didn’t think that was possible.
6279: Are you ever safe, DeLuna?
I scoffed a laugh, shaking my head. He had a valid point.
With a sigh, I located my room and let myself inside. I’d dropped my bags off before going to meet Hermes, and the concierge had delivered them for me already. Who knew when I’d be able to return to my home, but at least I traveled light.
Half an hour later, I had showered, washed my hair, cleaned my face of makeup, and wrapped up in a hotel robe to watch a movie. Then my stomach rumbled.
“Dammit,” I muttered aloud, staring at the ceiling. “Should have eaten more scones.”
Except their jam was too sweet and the cream was the crappy stuff out of a can instead of real whipped cream. Visiting Jude in Scotland was ruining me for the rest of the world’s poor attempts at Devonshire tea.
One bonus to staying in a five-star hotel, though, was that they offered room service, and I didn’t even need to put on pants to get some dinner delivered.
A quick call to the hotel restaurant, and I placed my order for pizza and red wine. Delicious and perfectly paired with hotel bathrobes and pay-per-view movies.
The gentleman on the phone advised my food would be delivered in twenty minutes, so I picked up my phone to reply to Leon. Yeah, I was addicted. Just opening his message thread gave me fluttery tingles of desire and danger.
I scrolled back up the messages for what seemed like the thousandth time, and decided to poke the hornet’s nest a little harder. Rather than send a flirty message back, I shrugged out of my hotel robe and snapped a sexy nude picture in the mirror.
His response was quick and exactly what I expected.
6279: Tease.
6279: More.
I grinned and took another more explicit image for him.
3982: Your turn, Marx.
The responding message gave me cunt flutters.
“Oh shit,” I whispered, sitting up straighter and wetting my lips. The image was unclear where he was, the background dark, but it was a clear shot down his body, taking in his incredible abs. His tattoo-covered arm in the side of the frame made it clear that it was Leon, but even without those distinguishing features, I’d recognize his hand. And the thick, pierced dick he gripped.
Unsolicited dick pics in general were never sexy, but this? This was no mere dick pic. This was a work of art.
With a groan, I sank back into my pillows. I shouldn’t have started this game with Leon tonight… there was no way my vibrator could compare, and I was just going to end up disappointed without the real thing. Maybe if I called him… maybe if I could hear his voice as I fucked myself with the Purple Pussy Eater…
Yeah, that could work. I tapped Leon’s number to call him and hunted my lavender-colored helper out of my bag while it rang.
He picked up quickly, his voice husky as he said my name, and I needed to mentally scold my libido for flipping right the fuck out.
“I think the real question, Marx,” I told him, aware of how breathy my own voice was and not giving two shits, “is where are you? And why aren’t you here?”
He gave a low chuckle, and I collapsed back onto the bed. “I thought you were scared of me, DeLuna. Weren’t you running for your life last time we were together?” He gave a small groan, and I could picture him pumping his own cock. Damn it, I wanted to explore those piercings with my tongue.
“So?” I replied, flicking the Purple Pussy Eater on and shivering with anticipation. “What’s your point?”
A knock on the hotel room door made me startle, and I breathed a curse. “Hold that thought, bunny,” I muttered to Leon, “my room service is here.”
Somewhat annoyed, I turned my battery-operated friend off and slipped back into the hotel robe. I tossed my phone onto the bed and grabbed a tip from the dresser where I’d left the weapons I’d been wearing earlier.
“Just a second!” I called out when the knock came again. I grabbed a gun and chambered a bullet. Just in case.
A quick look through the peep-hole didn’t raise any alarm bells for me, though. A middle-aged white man in a hotel uniform stood there looking bored as hell with a room service trolley in front of him.
Keeping my gun at my side, slightly obscured by my robe, I opened the door and offered a polite smile. “Sorry for the wait, I was changing.”
The guy just gave me a tight nod and pushed the room service cart into my room when I stepped aside. The strong smell of fresh pizza made my stomach grumble, and I was beyond excited to eat my pizza while Leon dirty talked in my ear. Only one thing could have made it a better scenario, and I wasn’t fucking thinking about him anymore.
“Thanks so much,” I told the guy, handing him a tip and holding the door open for him to leave.
The man murmured a polite “enjoy your meal” kind of response and exited. I closed the door, then flipped the lock and slid the safety chain on. Leon was right when he said we were never totally safe, but we did what we needed to in order to catch a few hours of sleep.
Once the safety was back on my gun, I placed it back on the dresser with my other weapons and plucked the warming lid off my pizza. Instant mouth water.
“Fuck yes,” I moaned, grabbing a slice. It was still hot—a hit or miss aspect to room service—and I ate a whole slice before retrieving my phone from the bedclothes. “You still there, Marx?”
His rough laugh responded, flooding my pussy once more. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Did you just moan while eating something?”
“Pizza, Marx. Cheesy, saucy pizza.” I took a huge bite of a second slice. I was hungry.
“Shit, DeLuna. I’m on my way.” It was a darkly dangerous promise… or threat… and it got my blood pumping like crazy. Finally, I wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling window of my room and peered out into the glittering city lights, imagining I could see him out there somewhere.
“Good,” I told him, “then I’ll save my batteries.”
His answering groan made me laugh, but a flicker of movement in the window reflection made me gasp and duck on instinct.
Not fast enough.
7