Page 42 of Bullet

He came back at nine, a few hours after the last of the group had left the house. I let him in, thanked him for coming, and basically fled upstairs to shower and get ready for bed. I couldn’t chance losing control around him again, but I didn’t thank him, and that’s bothering me so badly that I know I won’t be able to sleep.

I slip downstairs, my bare feet soundless on the wooden treads, and find Bullet pacing the small living room like a caged animal. The heavy ivory curtains are drawn tight, but he’s still giving the window dirty looks as though it has personally offended him. Inside the room, he looks barely big enough to have fitted through the domed doorway, and since the house is so closed off from itself, it appears smaller than it is.

“Bullet?”

He whirls around like a panther, lethally graceful, shimmering with muscle under a dark pair of jeans that hug his thick thighs and cup his ass in the most sinfully delicious way, and a tight t-shirt that shows off the stack of his abs and his massive shoulders. Without his leather vest, he seems almost naked. I quickly spot it draped over the large brown leather recliner, and drag my mind away from the brink before it tips over and starts going places where it has no business.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scare me?” he snorts humorlessly, but his eyes sweep down my body and darken like he’s still looking for a threat.

I freeze as they spark with something that resembles hunger. Now I’m the one who feels naked in these stupid silk pajamas. They might not be tight, but I don’t have the vitals on underneath—a bra and panties. Great last lines of defense.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. That sounds so trite, because words aren’t nearly enough, but I didn’t want to go to bed not having said it. I couldn’t stand it if you were sacrificing your time and energy, and you didn’t feel that it was noticed or appreciated. Plus, this…” I sweep my hand around, indicating the house. “The massive effort that went into this is very much seen and appreciated. Willa’s been sleeping for the past few hours already, or she’d tell you herself.”

His face blanks the same way I so carefully veil my emotions, but he drops that unceremoniously and offers me a smile that starts a heady, buzzed feeling in my body, like I’m drunk.

“You’re welcome. Thank you, too, for everything you’ve sacrificed for me. It’s also seen and appreciated.”

I don’t know how to deal with that, or the restless, wild animal sensation that’s about to claim my body again. The room is small already, but it’s growing smaller, the air tighter and thinner.

“I wanted to tell you that we pulled some strings, and Willa is registered in the community college here. Arts courses, just like in Seattle.”

“Thank you.” What is wrong with my voice?

“We registered one of the guys from the club in as well. Atlas. He was… here earlier.” I’m not sure what the pause is, or what flickers across his face. “He’s young. Older than Willa, but, uh, we thought it would be good for him. That they might getalong. He needed something to occupy his mind since he’s going through some personal shit, and she needs someone to be close to her and make sure she’s okay.”

“A bodyguard.” I hadn’t even thought about that.

“Yes. We didn’t want to stick her with someone she wouldn’t mesh with. She shouldn’t have to focus on that, or feel like she’s being watched or babysat. Atlas is from Hart. He knows people here. He might be able to help her make some friends. He’s young, but she’ll be safe with him. He looks like a playboy, but he’s the opposite. Loyal, a real sweetheart. His parents had him late in life and they’re elderly. He’s definitely a mama’s boy. He’ll be good to your sister, I promise. Plus, the personal shit has made him uninterested in a relationship of any sorts.”

“It sounds like whoever decided this thought about it long and hard to find the best match possible. Thank you for that too. This is beyond what I could have expected. This level of accommodation.” That sounds so prim and proper, but I can’t help but fall back on the same old barriers.

“Nothing has been decided about Harold yet. The club talked it over, but hasn’t made a decision as to what we’re going to do. We will, though, I promise. You have no reason to put your faith in strangers, but it might help you sleep knowing that something will indeed be done.”

“I wasn’t having trouble sleeping.”

“No?” He walks to the chair he’s strung his jacket over, and sits down carefully, probably so he doesn’t break the thing.

I wonder, not so absently, how many hours a day he spends in the gym to have a body that muscled, but not so overdonethat he’s chunky. He still moves around with a lithe grace that’s totally at odds with his powerful build.

“No. I’ll be able to sleep. I just wasn’t ready yet.” I eye the chair. “You’ll be sleeping there?”

“I won’t be sleeping.”

“Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Nah. I’m well-conditioned to it. Civilian life hasn’t made me soft yet. I had a few hours this afternoon. It was quality, and that’s always better than quantity.”

How would it change me as a person to spend a few quality hours in bed with him?

“Aren’t you going to be bored?” I choke.

He leans forward and lifts a black military looking backpack that I hadn’t even noticed. “I brought books, and if I’m really desperate, I could always play one of those match games on my phone.”

I nearly burst out laughing, but why shouldn’t he like something like that? People don’t fit in tiny, organized little boxes the same way you can organize socks into a drawer by pattern and fit.

He hasn’t looked at me again and it sneaks up on me that maybe he’s trying not to. Maybe my nipples are visible under the light pink silk.

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