My gums were still bleeding.
I hung my head. “I’m gross.”
“Not true,” Sergio argued.
I nodded, not trusting my words. Then when I found my voice, I pointed at my mouth and shuddered. “Gross.”
Sergio’s eyes took on that dark hue that told me he was either really aroused by my vampire mouth or just pissed off. One minute he was staring at me; the next he was kissing me.
I tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let me.
His was invasive, hard; nothing soft about it.
When he pulled back, he still didn’t release my head; instead, he looked at me directly in the eyes and said, “I don’t want to ever hear you say that about yourself again.”
“But—”
His kiss interrupted my words. When he pulled back, I had to admit I was a bit dizzy.
“Never again,” he whispered.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Now…” He helped me off the counter. “…let’s shower.”
“Um…” I raised my hand. “…I can shower on my own.”
“I know you can.” He lifted his shirt over his head.
Why was I arguing again?
“But do you want to?”
“Have I ever told you how smart you are?”
“No.” He smirked. “And don’t start now, or it will freak the shit out of me and possibly earn you a trip to the ER. Strip.”
I tilted my head. “Can’t I just stare? That has to be somewhere on the list — wife watches husband take clothes off and takes mental pictures.”
Ignoring me, Sergio gripped my T-shirt and whispered against my mouth, “Strip or I pull out the knife again.”
“Ooo, I vote yes on the knife.”
His head touched mine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Grab the big machete. We can use it as a prop!” I yelled after his retreating form.
I didn’t expect him to come back with the knife.
He did.
And the machete, which he placed very far away from me, making it so I’d have to learn how to fly over the counter to actually reach it. “You don’t play fair.”
“You’re dizzy. I’m going to be naked. You don’t get sharp objects.”
“He has a point.” I lifted my arms into the air. “Okay, cut it off me.”
“You are so weird.” He laughed. It was rich and deep.
I was half-tempted to just stare at his face, but I didn’t have time. Soon the knife poked into my shirt. But he put it down.
I pouted.
Then Sergio gripped the shirt and ripped it in half. With. His. Bare. Hands.
My grin was so huge I was officially all vampire, poor guy. Though he didn’t seem to mind as he moved his hands to my shorts and did the exact same thing. At that rate, I didn’t need to even move.
“Have I told you how hot you are with a knife?” I leaned back, my nakedness fully exposed.
Sergio placed the knife next to me on the counter and kissed my cheek. “Have I told you how hot you are naked?”
“Only naked?”
“If we’re taking a vote, I’d say no clothes.”
“But you love clothes!”
“So you can see how much I love you being naked…” His eyes flashed with something that appeared to be excitement. “I have an idea.”
“Okay.”
“Shower, then idea. Well actually, first we have to send the hand.”
“Send the hand.” I said it in a low voice and raised my hands in the air like I was a ghost. Why? No idea.
“You done now?”
I nodded.
“Great.” He picked me up and set me in the shower, then stripped and followed me in.
We washed each other. I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t make a move to try anything. I was really hoping for more, especially since my morning had had such a crappy start.
I was just getting ready to turn the water off when he flipped me around and pinned my hands against the shower wall. His teeth nipped my ear as he whispered hoarsely, “Fourteen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sergio
YOU KNOW THINGS ARE ROUGH WHEN you’re thankful you have a disembodied hand lying around the house to take your mind off things.
Specifically, to take your mind off the girl who’s dying and most likely taking your heart with her to the grave. I still hadn’t heard back from Tex, but my appointment was in a week. Either way, at least I could say I’d tried, right?
I put the Rolex back together and made sure to secure it to the hand without making it seem like it had been taken off.
The chip was small enough not to be discovered — that is, unless they took the watch apart. Because it was so small, it would be impossible to hear conversations more than twenty feet away. But it was honestly all we had, so it was worth a shot.
I’d spent the early part of my morning actually tracking down Petrov himself — not an easy task considering he had several houses all over the country, not to mention business in what seemed like every southern state in the US. I didn’t want to bank on the fact that he’d be in his home in Chicago, but all trails led to that exact spot.
The man wasn’t hiding.
He wasn’t even trying to, the cocky son of a bitch.
In a way it was comforting — to know he wasn’t underground. The man was known by the feds, but he’d never faced prison time — ever. He had a few judges on his side, not to mention at least two unsavory politicians in Washington state; it was no wonder he kept most of his business in Seattle.