Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(28)

22


~~~

Darla

New Skin

Waking up around seven, I immediately wonder if Troy has switched with Minka yet. I hurry to the shower, clean up, and put on my new clothes. The night before, I decided what I wanted to wear for my first time not in sweats around Troy. I choose black tights and a long skirt with a high-collared white and yellow peasant top. I'm showing more skin than I've done since reuniting with Shelley

Soft and shiny, my hair is the final touch before I'm satisfied with my appearance. I walk out to the kitchen still unsure if Troy is at the apartment yet. For a moment, I see no one. Before I can panic, I assume my protection is in the bathroom or security room.

I take another step into the kitchen, seeing and hearing no one.

"There she is," Troy says, appearing from the security room. "And she's sexier than ever."

Blushing, I step back. "Good morning."

"You look happy today," he murmurs, flirting with me in such an obvious way that my cheeks grow hotter.

"I'm glad you're here."

Troy's smile widens. "Did you miss me last night?"

"Did you miss me?" I challenge, even while backing away.

"I spent a lot of time in a cold shower if that answers your question."

Laughing behind my hand, I look away from him before I turn beet red. Troy says nothing while I fill a bowl with mini muffins. He only watches me, and I pretend not to notice. Finally, his gaze proves too distracting.

Frowning at him, I mutter, "Why are you looking at me like that? They're only clothes."

"I don't care about what you're wearing," he says, inching closer. "I really did miss you last night."

The certainty in his voice pisses me off for some reason. "Are you teasing me? Is this because you know I like you?"

"I like you too."

"You're acting weird."

"No, not really. You're feeling insecure."

"You're making me feel that way."

"Why? Because I think you're beautiful? Or because you're overwhelmed by all the wild thoughts likely going on here," he says, tapping my head. "Or the mixed up feelings in here," he says, touching my chest for only a second. "Or how soon you'll struggle to stop thinking of me here," he finishes, glancing down between my legs.

I can't speak. Troy is being painfully forward. I'm both excited and horrified by his honesty.

"That sounds great, but can I have my breakfast first?" is my bright response once I regain my ability to speak.

Troy steps back and gives me a sly smile. "I have all the time in the world."

Turning away, I take my bowl and sit at the kitchen table. I casually eat my muffins while reading a message from Shelley on my phone. Even ignoring Troy, I feel him watching me. Whenever he looks away, I feel that too. His gaze on me feels better.

By the time I finish eating and return from brushing my teeth, Troy is sitting on the couch. The TV is off, and he isn't looking at his phone. Troy simply sits on the couch, waiting for me.

"What?" I ask when he only watches me with his heavenly blue eyes.

"Come over here and listen to my heartbeat."

"Why?"

"It'll relax you."

"I'm already relaxed."

"Fine, I want an excuse to have you in my arms."

I study him, unsure what to do. When I don't move, Troy smiles. "What's the holdup?"

"I have trouble making choices."

"Good news. I wasn't giving you a choice," Troy says, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

I narrow my eyes at him. "I want a choice."

"Fine. You can sit here," he says, patting the spot again," and listen to my heartbeat. Or you can sit here," he says, patting the spot on the other side of him, "and listen to my heartbeat."

Frowning, I decide to sit on the side closer to his heart. I also figure it's closer to the path back to my room if I want to make a quick getaway.

Troy sighs when I rest my head against his chest. His arm wraps gently around the back of me, keeping me snugly against him.

"You need to relax after a busy morning of looking so damn beautiful. I'm sure it took a lot out of you."

Grinning, I rest my hand on his chest. Troy's body is warmer than I expect. I always felt like Locke was a block of ice. Troy is the opposite in so many ways. I stare up at him and find him watching me in the most wonderful way.

Troy kisses my forehead. He's challenging me about what happened yesterday. I watch him while he kisses my left temple then my right. His lips are soft and seductive.

When his lips meet mine, I surprise myself by not panicking. The kiss is perfectly undemanding. I relax into his embrace, feeling like someone new. Not old Darla, not new Darla, and nothing like Rose.

My heart races and skin flushes. For the first time in as long as I can remember, my body welcomes pleasure. My skin longs to be touched. I crave his desire.

Troy's tongue doesn't demand entry. My lips open for him willingly, yet quickly fear overwhelms me.

"No," I say, shoving him away and sitting up to catch my breath.

Troy says nothing. I expect him to get angry and leave the couch. He simply waits. His patience is seductive in its silence.