Page 32 of Chief-of-Security

His rumbling voice is nearly a growl, but I follow the motion, straddling his hips as I seek any other vulnerable spots. Before I can get any good pokes into his midsection, my wrists are snatched up and slammed to the bed above Julian’s head.

There’s a sudden silence in the apartment, the only sound our heavy breathing as my face hovers inches above his. “You’re deadly with those claws, Rocky.” He breaks the silence with a smirk, his eyes dropping to my lips, then back up to search my face.

“Tiny, but mighty.” My words are barely more than a breath as I search his face back. What is happening? His beard doesn’t hide the strong line of his jaw beneath it. I’ve never seen his face from this close before, those impossibly pale but thick eyelashes frame eyes that pierce through me. I study his face, unsure what to do next.

Like his eyes dropped to my lips, mine drop to his. His neatly trimmed mustache doesn’t cover how full his bottom lip is. A wild desire to taste it, to bite it, fills me, and I pull back with a gasp. It’s loud in the silence of my apartment. I don’t get very far though, Julian still has hold of my wrists and is holding his arms above his head, laying me out almost flat against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, our chests bumping against each other with the movement. It’s a little unsteady, his exhale rumbling against me. Hearing that he’s as unnerved as I am by the sudden closeness makes me bold. I cock my head a little, studying him.

Is Julian…nervous?

“Frankie…” The question in his voice answers my own.

He won’t do anything I don’t want him to. He would never hurt me. If I’m safe with anyone, it’s Julian. And that safety makes me feel brave in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s like I’m drunk on confidence.

So I do what any good drunk girl would do.

I kiss him.

And, oh God, is it a kiss. This giant beast of a man, who could take control of the situation in a blink, lies beneath me utterly soft. He’s so tall that in our tussle, my legs are spread across his stomach rather than his hips, my knees clamped to his ribcage. It would be so easy for him to flip up and over, to take control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets me taste his lips at my leisure. The thick bottom lip that tempted me a moment ago is my prisoner. I run my tongue across it, marveling at the roughness of his beard before taking it between my teeth.

“You win.” His low moan rumbles between my legs as he gives me permission to continue, and I match it, my fingers twisting to twine with his, still trapped above his head, this time because I’m the one holding them there.

“Rocky…” My name is a groan on his lips, and I revel in the power he’s giving me as I sample what it’s like to take what I want, to be the conqueror, not the conquered.

“Shhh,” I breathe against his mouth, not wanting to hear anything that would bring me back to reality right now. I just want to take. Take what he’s offering me—safety, comfort, permission to explore however, and whatever, I want.

“You don’t—” Julian’s unfinished offer is interrupted by pounding on the door. The sound snaps me back into my body, back to the truth of who I am. I scramble off the bed as he surges to his feet, stumbling when the back of my knees run into the arm of my chair.

“Don’t move.” Julian commands me, pausing to make sure I’m steady as he passes me. How quickly he takes back control. I didn’t win, not really. He let me. Anger at once again being allowed to win sparks low in my gut.

He checks through the peephole before pulling open the door, revealing a white plastic bag on my doorstep.

Anger turns to embarrassment, churning in my stomach, warring with the panic fluttering in the back of my mind. What was I thinking? He’s here because he can’t walk away from a damsel in distress.

In an instant, everything from the last minute replays in my mind. Me, straddling him. Me, kissing Julian. He didn’t initiate anything. Am I even sure he was kissing me back?

That wasn’t Julian giving me permission to explore him—that was a man who didn’t want to hurt my feelings by rejecting me. It wasn’t ‘yes,’ it was ‘sure.’ Once again, I’m convenient. Tolerated. Better than nothing.

Is it too much to ask to be wanted?

“Hungry?” he asks, holding out the bag.

“Not anymore.” I sigh. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Confusion replaces the smile on his face, his shoulders dropping. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t know the chair was so close behind you.” He points toward it with the bag. “Frankie, I’m—”

I stop him with a hand up. I don’t want to hear another excuse for why some guy was willing to spend time with me. I need to remind myself why he’s here in the first place. “Julian, it’s okay. I’m aware this isn’t real. I just—” I swallow hard, pushing back my disappointment. “We got carried away, that’s all. I’m not hungry anymore. Have a nice weekend.”

“Weekend? Seriously? But what about—?” When I shake my head, silent, he stops talking with a snap. “Yeah, sure. See you on Monday.”

He pulls a carton out of the bag, placing it on the counter in my kitchen and is out the door without another word.

Happy birthday to me.

Eleven

Julian

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