Assumption (Underground Kings #1)(40)

“Wh-what?” I stutter, looking at his clenched fists and the pulse of his neck, which is beating rapidly.
“Come here,” he repeats, the tone of his voice making me freeze in place.
“Why?” I ask softly.
“First, I haven’t seen or touched you in days and need to reassure myself that you’re good. Second, I need your help getting the image of what I just saw out of my head.”
His words have my feet moving before my brain even has a chance to catch up. I do a face-plant into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist and breathing him in. Every breath I take eases some of the anxiety I didn’t even know I was feeling.
“What’s going on?” I whisper into his chest. His muscles tense and I’m not sure I want to know anymore.
“Let’s sit down.” He takes my hand in his and leads me to the couch, where he tugs me down into his lap. “Your place in Vegas was broken into.”
“Shit,” I whisper. “What was taken?” I don’t really have anything of value, so I’m not too worried, but it still doesn’t feel good knowing that someone broke in.
“Nothin’,” he says, surprising me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, searching his face.
“Found out that Mick was the inside source at the club the night of the shooting.” He runs a hand down my back. “He told them who you are, and we’re guessing it was them who broke into your place.”
I don’t want to believe that Mick was involved in what happened, especially because he and Tessa were sleeping together, but I’m not really surprised. Mick is a self-centered * who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.
“Okay, so what do we do now?” I wonder out loud. I can’t think of anything I left behind that would lead anyone here, but I can’t be sure.
His eyebrows come together in confusion and his hand travels to the back of my neck then up into my hair, fisting it. “You’re not gonna cry?”
“No,” I reply, feeling my own eyebrows pull together, wondering why I should cry.
“Warrior,” he says quietly, his eyes going soft, making my heart pound a little harder. “I have a guy who’s connected to the organization that planned the hit. I sent him a message and am just waiting for him to get back to me.”
“What do you think they’re going to do?”
“Not sure, but I doubt they want the kind of publicity they’ll create if they try to send their guy after you.”
“What do they care about publicity if they are who you say they are?”
“They’re in control of half of Vegas. They may be Mob, but even they have an image to uphold,” he explains.
“They killed innocent people,” I remind him on a whisper. The thought of people like that caring what others think about them is laughable.
“They planned the hit, but their hands are clean.” He shrugs.
I look into his eyes and see an understanding that confuses me, and I wonder if he’s ever used that excuse. I lift my hand and run it along the roughness of his jaw. “Are you okay?” I ask him, seeing the weariness around his eyes.
“Yeah, but I’ll be even better when this shit’s over.”
I hear the tiredness in his voice and wonder how much sleep he’s gotten since he left. I push my fingers through his hair and his eyes start to close at the contact.
“You should take a nap,” I tell him softly. “We can figure out everything else later.”
“You gonna take one with me?” he asks.
Without thinking, I nod and he maneuvers me so that I’m straddling him. My breath leaves on a whoosh, my hands go to his shoulders, and his go to my ass. Our mouths are so close that I feel each of his breaths against my lips. I expect him to kiss me, but instead, he stands up off the couch. My legs wrap around his waist and I bite my lip when I feel the hard length of his arousal against my core through the thin material of my shorts.
When we reach my room, he pushes open the door and gently lays me on the bed before stepping back and taking off his boots and shirt. I watch, mesmerized, as his arm and abs flex when his fingers go to the button of his jeans and he pulls them down. I can see his hard-on outlined through his boxers, and my eyes travel up his body to his eyes, which look sleepy. I scoot back in the bed as he shuts off the light, and I feel the bed compress and his weight hit my side.
I try to ignore the ache between my legs as I lie on my back with his arm around my waist, his breath hitting my neck and his thigh over my legs. I try to calm down, but his hand lifts my shirt and my muscles clench. I expect him to grab my breast or touch me sexually, but he surprises me yet again when his hand just lies against my skin. All of my nerve endings are tingling in anticipation, and then I hear his light snore. My body relaxes and I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before drifting off to sleep.
“Wake up, baby.”
I feel a featherlight touch travel down the side of my face. My eyes flutter open and connect with Kenton’s. “Hi,” I say, blinking against the light coming in from the now open blinds in the room.
His fingers run down the underside of my jaw then up along my ear. “You sleep okay when I was gone?” he asks, his eyes focused on his fingers traveling over my skin.
I think about lying and telling him that I slept great and didn’t miss him at all, but something about the moment has me blurting out the truth. “I missed sleeping with you.”
“Yeah?” His eyes search my face as I nod and close my eyes, feeling too exposed. “I slept like shit.” His words make my eyes open and search his face. “Hated that I couldn’t be here to look out for you and Justin was doing my job. I didn’t like that another man was in the house with you.”