Pretending I misheard her, I pick up the remote to exit out of the movie, then hand the remote to Cassandra.
“Oh, I didn’t mean…” She tries to give it back to me, but I pick my spoon back up and gesture to my throat.
If I’m stuck faking this cold and eating burned meat soup instead of feasting on her body, I’m going to use the few advantages it gives me.
Sighing, she clicks through the available titles, stopping on a documentary about secret societies.
I can feel her watching me for a sign of how I feel, but when I don’t say anything, she selects it.
Cassandra sets the remote on the coffee table, then props her feet next to it, mirroring my position. “I’ve been meaning to watch this. And if you don’t like it…” She takes a sip of her drink. “Too bad. You had ample opportunity to object.”
I smirk around my next bite of burned soup. Butterfly has a backbone.
CHAPTER 21
Cassie
Hans finishes his bowl of soup. Then his second, eating the rest of what I brought. But when I started to stand up to go wash his bowl, he waved me to keep sitting.
So I did.
And after finishing my second whiskey drink, I let myself sink back into his couch.
The piece of furniture isn’t much to look at, but it’s incredibly comfortable. Not a cheap hand-me-down at all.
I turn my body so my side is against the back of the couch, then lift my feet onto the seat between us.
I’ll just stay until the end of the show. Then I’ll go home and let Hans rest.
As the host of the documentary talks about the victim traveling to Europe, I think about the movie Hans had been watching and wonder what language it was.
And then my lids start to lower.
CHAPTER 22
Hans
I gather the dishes from the coffee table, decades of training keeping my movements silent.
I set them in the sink, next to the soup pot, then circle through the house, securing the front door and double-checking the rest of the access points.
Finally, when the only light left on is the lamp next to my bed, I return to the living room and bend down to scoop Cassandra’s sleeping form into my arms.
CHAPTER 23
Cassie
Heat surrounds me, and my head sags to the side.
My eyes are heavy when I try to open them.
“Hush.” Hans’s deep voice vibrates through my body. “Go back to sleep.”
CHAPTER 24
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.