Latvis Security Services

by Lexie Ray

  “Really, man?” Andrea sighed. “Stop provoking her.”

  “Why do you keep thinking I’m provocative?” he defended himself.

  Their conversation was broken when Portia took up the last of the distance between them. They were now toe-to-toe, forcing Portia to stare straight down at Andrea.

  “I’m going to destroy you.”

  Andrea smirked. “Like you did yourself?”

  “Oh,” Dwayne chuckled. “Cold!”

  Portia barged between them and stormed out of the door. After she was gone, the crowd dispersed, talking with heightened excitement. Jai shook his head at both of them before he joined the dispersing group.

  Still smiling, Dwayne met Andrea’s eyes.

  “You know, I’m not used to being on this side of the annoy-people mission.”

  “We did want them riled up, right?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Dwayne chuckled.

  He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close, hoping the contact might ease the pretty obvious tension that she was feeling. He hadn’t expected her to lean into the touch, and it made his heart do a quick, pleasant little flutter.

  “Good job, babe.”

  Andrea groaned. “Nope. You’re not calling me that.”

  “Cupcake it is.”

  She smacked his chest with a bit more force than he personally thought was necessary and headed out of the room, leaving him to follow. He didn’t attempt to hide his chuckle as he threw his arms out and yelled after her.

  “Cupcake?” No response. “Cupcake!”

  Chapter Eight

  It surprised Dwayne how much effort had to go into walking a straight line. He hadn’t had to put that much thought into putting one foot in front of the other in years. It took a lot of work to look casual, and he just couldn’t make his body move in a way that everyone kept telling him was ‘alluring.’

  He had never had any complaints. Even Mads didn’t comment on his posture, and that was a man who would. Maybe not to his face, however. What hadn’t the Lithuanian been telling him? To make it worse, Jamie had apparently been blessed with natural ‘allure.’ After almost an hour of pacing back and forth, Dwayne was about a second away from smacking Jamie in his damn smug face.

  “Let’s take a break,” Andrea called out. “Five minutes.”

  The catwalk was elevated, casting Andrea in shadows as she sat in one of the seats that would be filled tomorrow. With the lights directly in his eyes, Dwayne didn’t have the easiest time making out her expression. Her voice made it clear that she wasn’t that impressed.

  Dwayne held his ground at the end of the catwalk as the other models shuffled off to do whatever models did when they had downtime. He hadn’t noticed Jamie coming up behind him until he felt the sharp and very sympathetic pat on his back. The idiot jumped down from the catwalk and hurried away before Dwayne had time to react.

  “You know I’m just going to hit you later!” Dwayne called after him.

  He disappeared into the shadows, but Dwayne could still hear him laughing loud and clear. His will to fight slipped away, and Dwayne slumped down to sit on the catwalk, letting his legs dangle off the edge.

  The click of Andrea’s heels approached, and he heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I get it. Actually, I don’t get it. I have no idea what the hell you guys are talking about.”

  “Just take a breath, babe.”

  “I know you’re just calling me that to distract me,” Dwayne said, “and it’s totally working. Keep going.”

  Andrea laughed as she finally entered the ring of light. The catwalk gave them enough of a height difference that she could rest her forearms against his knees. It was a comfortable weight, and Dwayne suddenly resented that he was once again wearing pants. She had such soft skin. He wasn’t sure what she used or did, but it was like silk and satin.

  Last night had been enough to ignite a craving for contact. It was a pit of fire in his stomach, a smoldering coal that he just couldn’t shake. To keep from reaching out to touch her, he leaned back on his arms and gave her a smile.

  “About Portia,” she said.

  “Yeah, she’s a nutter-butter, ain’t she?”

  Andrea smirked. “Completely. But thanks for letting me handle it.”

  “I’ve got your back.” He lifted his hand for a high-five.

  She rolled her eyes but still smacked her hand against his. “I guess I went to the right agency.”

  “Damn straight. I’m awesome. The King, some would say.”

  “Who would say that?”

  “Uncalled for,” he noted briskly before going back to what he had been saying. “But if you’re suggesting I’ve got to play Robin to your Batman because you hired us, you are sorely mistaken. As Mads would remind you, you aren’t our client.”

  She seemed to think about that for a moment, a small smile creeping onto her face. “So why have my back?”

  “Please. It looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over. I don’t think I was being that gallant.”

  “Oh, I’m not thanking you for that.”

  “You’re thanking me?”

  “This is more of a compliment on how you handled it.”

  “I like compliments,” he smiled, “but I don’t know what I did.”

  “I’ve known a lot of guys that would’ve struggled to let me take the lead.”

  Dwayne noted the lilt in her voice that made it crystal clear that she was talking about an ex. A lot of follow-up questions flooded his brain, and he completely lost track of the conversation. To cover up, he decided to fall back on flirting.

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Isn’t there anything else about me you want to compliment?”

  “Do you have an off switch?”

  He pressed his fingertips to a cheeky grin. “You can check.”

  Andrea was silent for a long moment before she mirrored his expression. “Okay.”

  “Say what now?”

  “I want to check.”

  “Um…okay.” Was she serious? This had to be a trick. But as much as he tried to think about what it could be, the only things his mind could come up with were how bright her eyes were and how sexy she looked when she smiled. “How, exactly?”

  She glanced around. They were alone. Apparently, everyone needed a break so badly that they ran for the hills at the first opportunity. The whole conference room, from what Dwayne could see of it anyway, was completely barren. When she turned back to him, there was a spark in her eyes that twisted up his insides.

  Standing straighter, she placed one hand on each knee. Her nimble fingers massaged his thighs. It took a lot to keep from shifting under the caress. It was a fight that he lost. It took a lot more effort than he had anticipated to keep from saying something that would ruin the moment.

  Andrea licked her lips, and he mirrored the movement. An odd, strangled sound broke from his throat when she suddenly pushed his legs apart. It wasn’t a dignified sound, and he instantly regretted it. But when she bit her bottom lip, he decided that he could live with it.

  Her fingers were still working into his muscles as she slid her hands up his thighs. It was impossible to keep from squirming as she inched higher. The fire in his stomach was quickly becoming an inferno. If she kept it up, he was going to embarrass himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to stop. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was up to, but he really wanted to see it through to the end.

  Closing his eyes, Dwayne tilted his head back and enjoyed the sensation, melting into her touch. When her hands disappeared, he let out a soft groan. Well, it was fun while it lasted. The sound of his jeans’ zipper opening had his head snapping back up. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of anything to say. Andrea smiled up at him as she flicked open the button of his jeans. His cock instantly swelled to fill the space.

  “Keep watch,” she laughed.

  “I have no idea what is happening, but this is awesome,” Dwayne said with glee.

  Andrea ch
uckled and wrapped her hand around his shaft. His boxer shorts were between them, but the touch was still enough to send a shot of electricity pulsing through him. He let his head drop back again, a throaty groan rattling his chest.

  She began to stroke him, the drag and pull of the material adding a new sensation that kept everything just shy of what Dwayne needed. It was still enough to reduce him to heavy pants.

  “You’re not watching.”

  “Cupcake, I would watch you do anything you want.”

  “The door,” she said. “You’re supposed to watch the door.”

  Dwayne struggled to get his head up. What side was the door on again? Each time he twisted around to try and find it, she would squeeze him or palm the head of his shaft.

  “You’re not playing fair,” Dwayne hissed through his teeth.

  “I never do.”

  Laughter bubbled up from inside him, shaking him enough that his cock rattled within her grasp. His spine arched.

  “Oh, I like that.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she teased. “Door.”

  The second he managed to turn around, the wet heat of her mouth pressed against the head of his cock. A staggered cry escaped him as he blindly reached for her hair. His fingers had just slipped into her silky hair when she abruptly pulled back.

  “What?” he mumbled desperately. “I’ll watch the door.”

  “That’s sweet,” she said as she used her pinkie finger to swipe her lower lip, making sure that her lipstick was still in place. “But people will be arriving back in about a minute, so I suggest you make yourself presentable.”

  “What?” Dwayne looked down at his crotch and his painfully obvious erection. He hurriedly slid off the catwalk and did up his pants. “Okay, still confused. Just give me a few, and I’ll take care of it in the bathroom.”

  “No.”

  “What now?”

  “We need to get back to work.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “I think people are going to notice this.”

  She sympathetically patted his forearm. “Tuck it into your waistband.”

  ***

  The room was dark when Willow finally came back to consciousness. Not ready to risk opening her eyes, she took stock of her body, wary of the pain that was going to come. Her body strummed like a hollowed drum, but the pain was gone.

  Willow blinked her eyes open and stared across the crisp, new sheets of her bed. She couldn’t understand. Why wasn’t she writhing in agony right now? And when had she managed to pry herself off the bathroom floor? She vaguely remembered hands touching her – a gentle, probing caress that washed over her arms. A spike of fire seeping under her skin. Everything else was lost.

  Slowly, she became aware of the soft noises drifting into her bedroom from the kitchen. There was a steady thump, a soft sizzle, and Brahms’ nails clicking against the kitchen tiles. Willow remained still against the bed, terrified that all the pain would return the second she moved and tried to place what the noises were. Brahms whimpered.

  The sound was instantly met with a sharp but hushed whisper. “Tyla.”

  Willow sat upright, her hesitation forgotten at the realization that someone was in her house. Her movements were silent as she slipped off the bed. She kept her eyes on the door as she crouched down and reached into the thin gap between her bedframe and the floor. It only took her a second to find the small, metal box. The gun case was cool against her hands as she pressed her palm against the fingerprint identification pad. It opened with a quick flourish of beeps that sounded as loud as a siren in the stillness. Brahms instantly went into a frenzy of yelps.

  “Tyla.”

  The word made her heart stutter, and she instantly reached for the gun. Living alone, she kept it loaded. Quickly, she flicked the safety off. She was sure that, at any moment, the door would burst open and the intruder would come barreling into her room. But no one came. There was still only the thump and the sizzle.

  Swallowing thickly, she got back to her feet and trained the weapon on the door. Odd items were scattered across the floor and tripped her feet as she moved to the threshold. She managed to keep upright and relatively silent. Pressing her shoulder against the wall, she glanced out into the hallway.

  “I’m armed, and I will shoot!”

  The response was a flurry of barks and a familiar voice. “I assure you, that won’t be necessary.”

  “Mads?” she snapped as all the tension fled her in a rush.

  “Yes,” he said calmly. “I’m currently cooking, so don’t be alarmed if I have a knife when you come out.”

  Willow jolted. She didn’t know what she should be more shocked about – that he had broken into her apartment, or that he had done so to cook. The gun suddenly felt heavy in her hands, a leaden weight that made her shoulders ache with the strain. She quickly returned it to its hiding place. Just because he now knew that she had one didn’t mean that he had to know where she kept it.

  It only took a few steps for her to leave her room and enter the kitchen. Brahms whimpered a welcome but quickly returned his attention to the meal Mads was cooking. His little tail slammed against the tiles as he looked on with hope. But he never set a paw onto the kitchen tiles.

  “What are you doing?”

  Mads looked up from the vegetables he was dicing with expert precision. “Cooking.”

  “I can’t imagine that my kitchen is better than yours.”

  “It actually makes me a little sad,” Mads admitted.

  Willow scoffed. “It figures that you’re a foodie.” She leaned against the far side of the counter and perused the boiling pots and simmering frying pans. She had no idea what he was making.

  “Did you change my bedsheets?”

  “Yes. I thought you would find it more comfortable.”

  “And you pulled me off the floor?”

  “I prefer the term ‘carried,’ but I suppose your statement is accurate.”

  Something clicked into place, and she snapped her head up. “Did you inject me with something?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” she snapped with a flare of rage. “That is not okay.”

  “I anticipated this conversation.” He placed the knife down, wiped his hands on her dishtowel, and gave her his full attention. “When I failed to contact you, I came to your apartment. I could hear Brahms, but you never answered the door, and I grew concerned that you were injured. I admit that I broke into your apartment. I apologize earnestly if you feel violated. But at the time, it felt necessary.”

  “You really practiced this,” Willow noted.

  “Cooking helps me think,” Mads said.

  “So, you found me in the bathroom and just injected me with something?”

  “It was a mild sedative,” Mads explained. “You were in a great deal of pain. I thought that it was best that you not be conscious for it.”

  “Do you normally have sedatives?”

  “Not on my person.” He smiled. “I keep them in my home. In my line of work, it is often beneficial to have a few ways to encourage people to take on a more relaxed disposition.”

  “This seems super illegal.”

  “Personally, I view this incident as a first responder situation. You were in need of medical attention but unable to give consent. Although, I suppose the argument could be made that I had no right to intervene.”

  “I meant you having drugs.”

  “No. While I’m not actively practicing, I am a licensed psychiatrist.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you used to be in the army.”

  “It is possible to be both.”

  Willow tilted her head. “Yet another thing that I didn’t know about you.”

  “And I learned that you suffer from migraines. It’s been a productive day.” Mads braced his hands against the counter and took a deep breath. “I want you to know that I didn’t do this light-heartedly. Every precaution was taken to ensure your safety,
and I will submit to whatever punishment that you deem appropriate.”

  She nodded. “Look, I’m not a fan of being drugged. But there is no longer a chainsaw in my skull, so I’m going to take the win.”

  A smile warmed his face as he picked the knife back up and resumed cutting the vegetables. “I can prescribe a sedative for you.”

  “Maybe later. The migraines aren’t so common anymore. It’s just an off day.” She didn’t add that it was stress, but one glance told her that he had picked up on it. Grasping for a distraction, she asked, “What’s tyla?”

  “Silence, in Lithuanian.” He turned his attention to the pots. “Brahms seems to understand it better than English.”

  “Of course, he does,” she huffed. “All this fuss because I didn’t answer a door.”

  “A door, several texts, and numerous phone calls.”

  “You’re sounding a little paranoid.”

  “After last night, I feel I have cause to be.”

  A hint of warmth bloomed within her chest at the concern. It had been a while since someone had cared that much, and she hadn’t realized how much she had missed it.

  “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  “Don’t be,” he assured.

  “And you don’t have to worry about him coming after me.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath and lunged forward. “He’s in jail.”

  Mads stilled, frozen for a moment before he began to stir the contents of a pot.

  “For what he did to you?”

  Willow cleared her throat and dropped down to scratch Brahms’ ears. “He was in there when I met him.”

  Whatever his reaction, he hid it well, and she was left wondering just what he had made of the revelation.

  “And he will not be paroled anytime soon?”

  “He’s serving a life sentence.”

  Mads took a deep breath. “For anything in particular?”

  She bundled Brahms into her arms and turned to go sit on the couch. “He founded a cult. It didn’t go well.”

  She could feel Mads watching her as she settled down in the living room. He never spoke a word. After a moment of silence, she heard him go back to cooking.