Blood & Roses

Chapter 18 - Kiss

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

Bianca's POV

I sighed in exasperation. Couldn't he just . . . let me be?

My stomach knotted. I didn't want to meet him, but it seemed he wasn't going to let me avoid him for long. I begged Sandra to cover for me and made my way to the second level where his office was. Roscoe followed behind. I climbed the stairs, and it wasn't long till I stood before Adrian's office.

I stood there for a few seconds, mentally bracing myself to meet him. I took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in." His voice, muffled by the door, reached my ears.

I walked in and was immediately captivated by the layout of his office. It was luxuriously furnished like his home office, but what wowed me was that the whole room was made of glass. Inside, you could see the club below — all the goings-on were visible. The platform where the strippers danced. The patrons drinking and chatting. The hum of the club was muted, though.

Standing outside the club, you couldn't see into the room. The glass must have special features preventing that.

I unconsciously placed my hand on the glass wall in wonder.

"Impressive, yeah?"

I turned to look at him; he was sitting behind a mahogany desk. His eyes were locked on me; I averted my eyes and turned back to the glass. I could see Sandra meandering around tables, serving drinks.;

"This here is my favorite spot," he whispered. His breath fanned my ear, sending shivers down my body.

When did he get so close? Placing both hands on the glass, he caged me in.

"I have been watching you from here. Since your first day at the club."

Oh wow. So he's been stalking me since the beginning.

My breath sped up. I didn't know what to say to his confession.

"Why have you been avoiding me, Bella?" he asked in a low, husky voice.

"I... I have been busy," I stammered.

Why was he so close? Didn't he know what personal space meant?

"Too busy to take my calls?" I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Or you were scared . . ."

"I wasn't scared; I had things to do," I snapped, turning around to justify myself. That was my mistake because our bodies brushed against each other. I stumbled back as a bolt of current zapped through me at the contact. I tried to put some space between us, but he placed one hand on my waist and pulled me flush against him.

"Stop struggling, Bella," he drawled, and I felt the rumble of the low bass echoing in his chest. "Look at me, Bella," he coaxed.

I didn't want to, but his soft voice and gentle caresses on my waist made me melt. I looked up to meet his eyes. They were filled with desire and something more. He stepped closer still; the aroma of his cologne was sharp and intoxicating, like an aphrodisiac.

"Promise me one thing, Bella," he asked, his voice low. "You must always pick up my calls." He followed that request with soft kisses on my ear that gradually trailed down my neck.

I shivered at the sensation, lost in the feeling rushing through me. My heart rate doubled, and my breath came in gaps.

"Promise me!" he demanded, lifting my chin with a finger to meet his hypnotizing gaze.

"Ye... yes, I promise."

The words left my mouth without my permission. As soon as I made the promise, he pounced. His mouth claimed mine in a kiss unlike our first kiss; this one was sweet and hot. His mouth moved hungrily over mine. His tongue traced the curve of my lips, seeking entrance.

"Let me in, Bella," he whispered against my lips, seeking permission. He kissed me again, deeper. I acquiesced, and his tongue plunged inside mine. He devoured my lips with the hunger of a starved man. At the same time, his hand roved all over me feverishly. I clutched his suit jacket, holding on for dear life. I was torn between pushing him away and clinging to his warmth. The club outside evaporated. The only thing registering in my mind was his touch, his scent, and the intoxicating kiss.

I wanted more, no... needed more. Then the sharp sound startled us. At first, I couldn't make out where the sound was coming from. Disoriented, we looked for the source. The sound came again, and this time, it registered as a ringing phone in our subconscious. Adrian's phone

"f**k!" Adrian cursed.

At the third ring, he pulled out his phone and answered, eyes still locked on me. He was similarly affected — his breath ragged, one hand still holding my waist.

I watched his tone shift from soft to cold and rough. "This had better be good," he threatened the person on the other end. "What?" Destroyed? Which of our warehouses?"

His jaw tightened; the warmth leached from his eyes, replaced by fury. The man who had tenderly kissed me was nowhere to be found. The sudden change shook me. Fear and shame swirled within me in an uncomfortable mixture. I stepped back, disengaging from his embrace. It was easier this time, because his attention was divided. The office felt smaller, suffocating as Adrian barked orders into the phone.

"I should go." My voice was barely a whisper.

Adrian looked at me. He was torn between the severity of whatever the call was about and me. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second. He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead and nodded. I quickly slipped out of his office, ran down the stairs, and into the locker room.

Inside, I touched my lips, mind racing, recalling what had just transpired. I couldn't recognize the girl looking back at me in the mirror. She was all flushed skin, swollen lips, and wide eyes. I craved Adrian's kisses, and yet I was terrified of him and his world.

I wondered at my body's response to him. Now I understood what those girls in school were talking about. They were always giggling and swapping gossip about dates with their boyfriends. I had always wondered what they were about.

How could I face Adrian again after this?

..........



Present Day – The Safe House

Bianca's POV

That kiss was so powerful that even now my lips were tingling, and my heart raced from the memory. For a moment, I could almost feel his hands on my waist, his mouth on mine. A mafia leader took my first kiss!

I pressed my fingers to my lips.

Quickly on the heels of that thought was what I heard Adrian say that day . . . "What?" Destroyed? Which of our warehouses?"

I had been so caught up in the kiss, in the chemistry, in the heat of it all — I hadn't stopped to think about what his words meant.

A warehouse was destroyed three months ago. And now — here I was — in a safe house, hiding from men who wanted me dead. Could the same men who had attacked Adrian's warehouses be the same ones who had attacked us and killed him?

The realization hit me like a wave; this whole mess had already been brewing. I just didn't know, but now I have, and I will find a way to get myself out of it.

One way or the other.