Disillusioned (Swept Away, #2)(44)

“What are you doing?” I gasped as my body approached orgasm. I held on to him and sank my teeth into his shoulder as the first body-shaking orgasm hit me.

“If they want to listen, they might as well see too.” He winked at me. “This is for the cameras if there are any.” He growled as he thrust into me two more times and then exploded inside me, his body shuddering against mine. “I’m falling in love with you, Bianca London. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered into my ear. “Let me prove to you that I can be a friend as well as a foe. Though, I want to be so much more than a friend.”

I kissed his shoulder, suddenly exhausted as my feet slid back down to the ground. His arms wrapped around me and his body felt hot against mine as we just stood there. All of a sudden the last words of my father’s letter hit my mind. It had said, All I ask is that you be careful of who you trust. Friends can be foes and foes can be friends. Maybe he would have wanted me to trust Jakob. Maybe Jakob was my knight in shining armor. Maybe he could help me solve this puzzle. I felt him kiss the top of my head as his hands rubbed my back. I snuggled into him, feeling safe. I trusted him, I really did. I just wasn’t sure why I couldn’t get that dire feeling from my stomach. Something was still off—I could feel it in my soul, but I had no idea what it was.





eleven


“Pack a suitcase with whatever you want for the next couple of days.” Jakob dried me off with my big, white, fluffy towel.

“Huh?”

“We’re not staying here.” He encircled my body in the towel and pulled me toward him. “So I need you to pack up some of your stuff.”

“You’re right, we’re not staying here. However, I am.” I glared up at him.

“No, you’re not.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if he could just tell me what to do.

“Yes, I am.” I tried to pull away from him.

“No, you’re not. It’s not even up for discussion.” He gave me a pointed look. “You’re leaving. You can do it willingly on your own two feet or I can carry you.”

“You’re not carrying me anywhere.”

“Me Tarzan, you Jane.” He winked at me. “I can beat my chest as well, if that makes you happier.”

“You’re a Neanderthal,” I growled at him. “You think you can just control me?”

“You weren’t complaining just now.” He licked his lips and winked. “You seemed to like it when I took control of you just now, when I pulled your legs up and—”

“I was there. I don’t need a play-by-play.” I blushed. “And that’s not the point. The point is just because we have sex, it doesn’t mean that I trust you, and it doesn’t mean I’m just going to move in with you and—”

“Umm, move in with me?” He smirked. “Moving a bit fast, aren’t you?” He took a step back. “I never said anything about moving in with me.”

“I didn’t mean move in with you like that.” I looked into his eyes, feeling embarrassed. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said with a straight voice. “Does it sound like I’m laughing at you?”

“Your eyes are laughing at me.” I glared at him.

“My eyes are laughing at you?” His irises positively jumped for joy.

“Jakob,” I growled.

“Yes, Bianca?”

“You’re an *.”

“I think I’ve told you before that I’ve been called a lot worse.”

“I think I can understand why.”

“As much as I love bantering with you, Bianca, I’d much rather you get dressed, pack some clothes and whatever other junk you want, so we can leave.”

“I already told you that I’m not—”

“Stop.” He grabbed me and leaned forward. “Your apartment is bugged. People are threatening you. People are spying on you. You are not safe here. Now, you can call me whatever you want. You can fight me. You can punch me. You can do whatever you want once we make it to my place. But right now, I need you to pack your stuff and come with me. I’m not going to take no for an answer.” He paused and gazed at my shocked expression and gave me a small smile. “No answer, Bianca?”

“You think I’m . . .” I stopped as his eyes narrowed.

“You have five minutes and then I pick you up and carry you out of here. I don’t care if you’re naked.”

“You can’t carry me out,” I muttered angrily. “You can’t carry me down the street. I’m not a hundred pounds.”

“I can bench-press three-fifty.” He smirked at me. “Trust me. I could carry you for ten miles if I wanted to.”

“Whatever.” I flounced out of the bathroom and hurried to my closet. He wasn’t going to just leave, and I had a bad feeling that he would carry me out in the street in my bath towel.

“You have five minutes.” He pulled on his pants and shirt and watched me as I grabbed some pants and a top and pulled them on quickly. I looked in the closet for a small duffel bag and pulled some random clothes into it. “Where are you going?” He followed me as I left the bedroom.