Page 43 of The Hunted
“Where does the need to pickpocket come from?” he asked, putting her hand back on his thigh. She squeezed, enjoying the way the muscle bunched under her touch. She let her hand move up, pausing only when she heard a low rumble tear through his throat.
She looked up at him to see the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel, but that was the only clue she had that her touch seemed to affect him. His shoulders were down, and his body looked relaxed in the driver’s seat.
“I wouldn’t start something we don’t plan to finish.” He stopped at the stop sign and looked over at her. “Why don’t you like answering questions? I’m trying to get to know you and you’re trying to distract me.”
He moved faster than she could track. Within her next breath his face was inches from hers, and his hand was firmly placed in between her thighs. She sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers moved slowly up her inner thigh. The jeans she wore were a flimsy barrier for the fire his touch started.
“Why don’t you want to let me in, princess?” His voice was low, filled with curiosity and something else she couldn’t focus on.
“Because I don’t think you’ll like what you see when I do.” The words fell from her lips in a whimper when his fingers had come too close to where her body wanted him.
Santino hummed low in his throat. “Was that so hard?” He chuckled. “I guess touching you is the only way I’ll find out what makes you tick.”
Silva wrapped her hand around his wrist, stopping his movement. He pulled away, giving her room to breathe in something other than him. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. I’ll stop touching you and asking you questions.”
Her heart was in her throat, and she was stuck between the need to push him away and pull him close. She wasn’t sure why she was reluctant to answer his questions. It wasn’t like this was new for her. She dated people before—not that she would call this dating—but she knew the early stages of getting to know someone required conversation.
A car horn blared behind them, and the icy look Santino shot behind him sent a chill down her spine. “I need my wrist back, princess.” She dropped her hold on him and expected him to immediately start driving, but he kept his icy gaze on the car behind them.
“Why do you call me, princess?” she questioned, trying to distract him from whatever thoughts were running through his mind. This was the first time she’d seen him look annoyed enough that he might do something.
“Because I knew it would get under your skin when we first ran into each other.” He said matter-of-factly, turning back around to grip the steering wheel. “Now, I think you enjoy it as much as I do when I say it.”
She fought the smirk on her face as he made the turn. She did enjoy the way it came off his lips and because she wanted to try too, she forced the next words out of her mouth. “I grew up in foster care. A few of the homes I was in didn’t necessarily treat me well and I had to steal to survive. There was another kid in one of the homes who taught me how to not get caught.” She rubbed at her chest, hating the taste of ash in her mouth that those memories brought up.
She glanced out the window, noticing they were on the correct path to her apartment, but she hadn’t told him her address. “Santino Alvarez, how do you know where you’re going?”
He shrugged. “I looked you up the day you gave me your number.”
ChapterEighteen
Amra watched Martin help Janelle into the waiting cab with a roll of her eyes. He was laying his charm on thick but didn’t seem too disappointed when Janelle refused to hang out in a more intimate setting or give him her number. He graciously kissed her on the cheek and called a cab on her behalf.
Such a gentleman, Amra thought. She knew he wasn’t too upset because he hoped once she got home and settled into bed, she’d dial up Amra asking about him, finding a way to run into him again and eventually the two would hook up. She had to give Martin credit. He knew how to play the long game.
Because he did it with you too.
“Call me later, Amra?” Janelle questioned before completely sliding in behind the passenger seat. Amra nodded but kept her gaze down the block where she had witnessed Alvarez and that Silva woman kiss.
Her hands had flexed at her sides, she was annoyed at herself, Silva, and Alvarez. Annoyed that she stood on the sidewalk cataloging their body language as much as she’d done when they were sitting across from her.
“Amra?” Janelle’s voice had her gritting her teeth.
“Yes?” Her tone pitched an octave higher and she hated it.
“Make sure you call me later, okay? We didn’t get a chance to talk.” She didn’t sound hurt, more curious and a little cautious. Their friendship had served a purpose for Amra, though she knew it had to be reciprocated to maintain it. Thanks to the surprise addition to their night out, she hadn’t been able to balance the friendship out like she normally would.
Amra sighed. “Will do. Get home safe.” She barely waved as the cab drove off, her gaze still in the spot where Alvarez and his newly found girlfriend had stood.
How had she misread him?
He seemed to genuinely be into her, which was weird since he shied away from everyone else. At the office he kept to himself, barely acknowledging anyone around him unless they sought him out. Even his friendship with Martin seemed more for appearances than genuine companionship, which Amra could understand. She liked keeping him at arm’s length too.
“They’re already gone.” Martin was behind her. She could feel his breath on her neck. She fought to keep her body still from the shiver that slithered down her back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She wanted to move but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how his close proximity affected her.
Martin’s deep chuckle wrapped around her, heating her skin, and this time she moved to face him. His gaze cataloged all her features, from her face down to her boots and back up. While she wasn’t surprised to see the nights they spent together play out behind his eyes, it still annoyed her that she ever let it happen, and how eagerly her body burned for a repeat. He was never the one she wanted.
