Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(86)

The reminders of Brad's torture have long scarred over. I know he remains self-conscious about them. At first anyway. When I first kiss his scars, he tenses. After awhile, he only smiles at the affection.

I fall asleep cuddled against Brad. In my entire life, I've never cuddled with anything, not even a doll. His sweaty body feels warm against the back of me. I shiver at the feel of his stubble against my throat. Brad is a tender lover, but he repeatedly uses his size to control me. A habit I find oddly endearing.

My sins never haunt my dreams, but the sins committed against Brad do. I see the blade slicing into his chest and back. His voice echoes in my head. Before realizing I'm the one holding the knife in the dream, I already sense where my subconscious is headed.

I wake a few minutes before dawn and wiggle free of Brad's grip. He doesn't wake though his hands reach for me. I grab my clothes, except for my torn underwear, and sneak out of the room. In my mind, I visualize Ruth and Nell waiting for me in the living room. Even feeling like an idiot for caring about their opinions, I still worry.

Fortunately, they're still asleep when I leave Brad's room. The dogs look at me and then at the back door. I let them outside before hurrying to my room to clean up and pull myself together.

I take a shower to wash off his scent, yet my body remembers. The flesh between my legs remains tender, and I grimace in wonderful pain when I pull on my jeans. Brad f*cked me so thoroughly that I'm sure I'll feel him inside me the rest of the day.

Unable to shake my sappy feelings, I make a pot of coffee and check the night's surveillance. I flinch when Nell shuffles into the kitchen minutes later. The dogs also freak me out more than usual when I let them inside. Even the disturbances on the surveillance bother me. Brad seems to have broken something inside me, and now the world is too big, loud, and scary.

I'm still me. Nothing truly frightens me. Even death is no more than a future inconvenience. Why am I allowing this man to make me so weak? Brad is like a Trojan horse, sneaking past my icy walls and destroying me from within. And he does it all without trying.

His expression when he enters the kitchen and sees me is one of unrestrained honesty. He wants me. He's also blissfully happy the way a great night in bed often makes a man. Our time together has strengthened Brad while I feel pathetically weak.

The difference between the sexes is never as apparent as when he smiles at me.

I refuse to play along with my biology. Brad is beautiful, and the sex is wonderful, but the pleasure is fleeting. Lust always fades.

Analyzing my weakness, I decide I'm simply reacting to this new phase in my life. I've given up a darker lifestyle and embraced something softer. This change threw me off kilter, is all. I'm still Saskia. I still fear nothing. Not pain or torture. And certainly not the beautiful blond man watching me while I finish my coffee.

Brad knows something is up the minute he leans down to kiss my neck, and I dodge his affections. Bolting out of the kitchen, I nearly run into Minka and her best buddy and former assassin partner Troy Sheridan.

"She's so perky," Minka says to Troy.

When I glare at her, she smiles wider. Troy glances around before nodding at Brad watching us from the kitchen.

"Where do I set up the extra surveillance?" Troy asks.

"Outside," I mutter, walking away.

Minka guides Troy to the backyard first. Hearing her boots on the wood floors, I know she's now coming to bother me. I hurry to my room and push the door shut until her hand stops me.

"What's wrong?" she says, grinning in a completely unsympathetic way. "Bad dreams?"

I stare up at her and frown. "Do you really want to be my friend or are you just playing one of your stupid games?"

Minka's smile changes. "I'm digging the idea of girlfriends."

"Then come with me."

We walk into my bedroom where I shut the door. Minka flops on the bed and stares at me with excited eyes.

"Did you two have your first kiss?" she asks.

"We slept together last night."

Minka nods. "Huh, so you're a bit of a slut, aren't you? I like that. What's the problem?"

"How did you stay professional with Troy back when you were dating and working together?"

"Oh, so you want to play things safe and cool, but lover boy wants to take things to a clingy level. Or am I reading this wrong?"

"You're not wrong."

"Well, my way won't work with you. When I was with Troy, I just ran hot like I always do. You're a frigid little badass, though, and Brad's making you warm up. No idea how to deal with that."

"Should I just tell him to f*ck off?"

"Hey, normally, I'd say play coy and make him squirm, but we're like a decade too late for high school moves. Why don't you just be honest and say you need space while you're working? Considering people are actually trying to kill him, I think he'll want you to stay focused."

Minka's right. Hiding from Brad is childish. We spent the night together, but I'm still a professional. As a grown man, he'll understand my concerns.

"Is it the torture thing that's worrying you?" Minka asks, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling.

Even frowning, I know what she means. Minka though takes my silence to mean I'm confused.

"After all, Brad was tortured by his captors, and you are Little Maven. I'd imagine that'd be an awkward conversation."