Page 57 of Seek Him Like Shelter

And perhaps one thing would lead to another.

Until we tumbled into bed and finally got our fill of each other.

I’d barely been able to think of anything else since she’d invited me into that bathroom. Since I’d slipped my hand between her thighs and had her writhing and moaning for more. Since my fingers slid inside her tight…

Christ.

I had to get it together.

I couldn’t be going to the bakery with a raging hard-on.

“Where are you going?” I asked as Serano opened the door and started to climb out.

“Coffee.”

“Aren’t you supposed—“

“Be at your place after,” he said, slamming the door before I could offer to drive him to whatever coffee place he was heading to.

He was probably itching to be alone anyway.

So I took a deep breath, deciding I’d done enough staking out for the day. I headed to the bakery to pick up the cantucci. Then to the market to grab more of her cookie syrup, since she was getting low, and some treats for Kevin because his stash was slim, and he’d been doing a lot of begging lately. The cat was ancient; I wasn’t about to deny him extra treats in his old age.

I was just pulling up out front of my building, the sun setting low behind the buildings, when I saw Serano walking down the street, a large to-go coffee looking tiny in his massive hand.

He gave me a nod as he waited at the front of the building.

I was about to climb out when my phone started to ring.

I thought nothing of it until I saw Elizabeth’s name on the screen.

“Is every—“ I started.

“Elian,” she cried, her voice shallow, like she was gasping for air.

“Where are you?” I asked, rolling down my window to bark at Serano. “Get in,” I called, waiting for him to rush around the hood and fold his long body into the passenger seat, his keen eyes watching me.

“W…work. You didn’t see?”

“See what?” I asked, setting her on speaker and dropping the phone in my lap as I peeled off into traffic, ignoring the beeps as I did.

“News,” she said, sniffling hard.

“No, baby, I didn’t see the news. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m… alright,” she said, but everything about how her voice was shaking and how often she was sniffling, told me a different story.

“He’s shot,” she said.

“Who’s shot?” I asked, slamming my hands against the wheel as we hit a red light.

“The senator,” she said, voice breaking. “It was supposed to be me.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Elizabeth

I was so busy for so long once I got into the office that it was impossible to think of anything else.

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