Page 12 of My Hunger, Your Soul

I swat his hand away from my face and take a step back, but he follows me.

“My name is Tyler and don’t touch me.”

My back hits the far wall of the office and I’m cornered, trapped in a house full of murderous psychos, and the biggest one is in front of me.

Ivan pushes his index finger into my chest as I grab his wrist.

“You’re cute,” he says, and sniffs the side of my neck. I can’t help the sharp intake of breath as he does it. My dick makes a small move to awaken, but I think the shock prevents a fully hard mast. I try to calm my breathing without looking obvious as he moves back and turns without another glance and walks toward the door. What the fuck?

“Come on. Time to go, Ty.”

Fucker. Only Chase, my brother, calls me Ty. I only allow it as he has called me that since he was a toddler. I think it makes me sound like a teen that's not to be taken seriously. But, I decide not to correct him, as ignoring him will hopefully make him stop. I follow him out of the office and to the front of the house. Ivan opens the door for me and I can't help but stare at him as I leave. I’ve seen hundreds of people with brown eyes over the years, but something about Ivan’s has me transfixed. They are what I can only describe as a sensual pool of velvet coffee. Like they are the door to the true Ivan. Whilst they are beautiful, they don't shine with any life or feeling. And that scares the shit out of me.

“Give me your phone,” he says as I’m about to leave.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number in case you need to contact me, you know, since we will be working closely together.”

“Fine.”

I remove my phone from my pants pocket and unlock it before passing it to Ivan’s large meaty hands. He looks down and quickly enters his number, before passing it back to me.

“I’ll be in touch,” I say, and then haul my ass out of there. Fortunately I don’t fuck up unlocking my car and getting inside as he watches me from the doorway. I pretend not to notice him and speed out of there, desperate to get back to the office to decipher what the fuck just happened in that house.

9

IVAN

After Tyler left yesterday, Dima and Lev informed us all that we would be helping Carlos to locate his men and brother. Jules and Simon spent all afternoon and evening yesterday finding out information from our crews to see if we had any leads, and surprisingly, it was easier than I thought it would be. It turns out crews are gossipy little fuckers when they get together. Then, add in the girls they hook up with who also on the side have hooked up with some of Carlos’ men, who also like to gossip when half-cut and getting railed, you have yourself a lot of interesting information. You couldn't make this shit up. All of this has now led to us being where we are right now, at the docks waiting for Carlos to arrive so we can update him and see what he wants to do next.

Myself, Jules, Si and Lev are sitting in a damp smelling office, hidden amongst the array of containers. I hate the docks. It stinks and is fucking cold.

“Couldn’t we have done this over the phone?” I ask Lev as I sway from side to side, trying to warm myself up above a corpse's temperature.

“No. Stop fucking complaining.”

“I’ll stop complaining when I’m away from this shithole. Doesn't he have a house?”

“This shithole suits his personality,” Si mumbles next to me.

“You protest too much over him, Si. Just fuck him so it can be done,” I say, and Simon's head turns to face me so fast I bet he’s pulled a muscle.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“Fuck you, Ivan. I'm not fucking anyone, especially that asshole.”

“I knew you liked him.”

“I don’t fucking like him!”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh my god, will you two shut the hell up!” Lev barks, and I can't help but chuckle. Simon’s face is about to explode with how red it’s turned. Or it could be frostbite. I lean into Simon and whisper into his ear.

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