Her
Well shit.
Zeus my sweet dog sat on his special place on my couch and I stood in my kitchen waiting for the new dumbass to knock on my door. “Eat your food Zeus and stop being snoopy.” I hated bringing business to the apartment. But what can a girl do when all she wants is to stay inside today.
I opened up my laptop for the third time and blinked slowly. I looked at the camera feed that was live in my building.
Yes, its legal. I think. I just stumbled upon it. My apartment was spotless so I couldn’t even clean it at the moment. I grabbed the towel and wiped off the countertop anyway.
He is officially late. And now my appendix is hurting.
Yes, I’m being dramatic. A knock rudely interrupted my thoughts. Yuck I hate having to work with someone. I slowly sauntered to the door. How dare he knock on my door like I would answer. How dare he. I giggled a little before opening the door. I always thought I was the funniest person alive. So i messed with my door handle a little. Twisting it each way to make him impatient. He deserves it.
How else can I make him annoyed?
“Is now the most necessary time to clean your door handle?”
His voice was smooth. Lacking an empathy any well-groomed man would attain. I stopped. Did I still want to mess with him? He sounded forceful and rude. Yet for some reason that made me all the happier and more inclined to make him want a different partner.
I don’t have daddy issues; I just find an enjoyment in all things that make someone else suffer. Especially spoiled. Rotten.
Brats….
I opened up the door and there stood my new, beautifully endearing, tattooed piece of meat.
I shamelessly looked him up and down like I was going to kill him. Zeus was judging me at this point.
The stupid idiot reached his hand out.
“Damien.” We both said at the same time. I knew his stupid name. I knew everything about him. Because that was my job.
I rescued women, males, anyone with a problem. And most of the time rescuing meant murder. Damien was covered in invisible blueprints. I smelled the massacre he was capable of. Or maybe that was his shitty cologne.
I scoffed at him. So, he pushed past me. I tried not to drool. Fuck this man. But oh god he was about six foot five with tight and large shoulders. His veins trailed through tan skin with tattoos plastered over any space you tried to imagine.
“Well, make yourself at home dickhead.”
His face shot up at me, thick brows furrowing at me like my father used to do at me. I felt a pang of happiness when I saw his hand clench a little like he was trying to not smash holes in the wall. I glided towards my computer. Acting as if I was so bored I could not see him. He was obviously a rich boy with the belief women should cower under his presence. He folds over me with conversation.
“My business needs your help. This specific case” he stopped to sigh “A clean job. Quiet. Your specialty.”
I study him. The way he says clean is the way a thief says ethical. There’s something else too. Like a tiredness he can’t just sleep over. It sits on his tight jaw like a debt. I soften a little. Maybe I won't torture him.
“I am already aware of all of this. Give me the details.” I reply haughtily. I heard it in my voice. I was letting him get too me a little. But his hands displayed out on my counter, his fingers giving me ideas I should not have. The sleeve of ink trailing probably to places only lustful woman have seen or thought about. I shook the thoughts out of my head.
He looked at me; I did not like the way his eyes could darken. His suit making me fidget at just the small detail of the scrunched material near his button.
Damien
δαμάζω (damazō), “(I) conquer, master, overcome, tame”,
What would it feel like to dip into his hell. To trace his skin. Make him bleed.
“Are you always such a smartass?” He asked. A tone of defiance. He was petty and rude, and it was turning me on.
I walked over to my fridge. “Explain case number 555.” He began the talk. So, I stared at him while he talked. It gave me time to think to myself while he kept talking about the money and the client I already knew about. I stopped looking at him and my mind started racing. Where would I start tomorrow. Maybe looking into the underground drugs, I wanted to search about. Or maybe I would visit our witness Cecile, the sweet neighbor of one of our dead victims.
“Maya. Please pay attention.”
Now this pissed me off. “First of all, you will call me Miss. Not my name. Second of all you are in my apartment, and I have no problem killing you because I do love an excuse to clean. I was listening so shut the fuck up.” He was making me angry.
Or was it the fact I couldn’t rip his clothes off.
I coughed. Now turning away from him and opening up my fridge. I could feel his abnormally large presence a little too close to me. I stared at the organized contents of the pristine fridge. “Maya.” Oh god his voice alone was making me hot. I slammed the doors of the fridge to get away from him.
Professional.
God, I need to be professional.
But he was right behind me. So, I just ran right into his chest. I stopped. Inhaling slightly. The cologne. His eyes were icy, not even a color. Just cruel ice. The jaw with a little stubble on it. His nose was Greek, poking out like his attitude. His neck was thick; my two hands would not be able to touch if they were wrapped around it. His lips were even more deathly to look at. A pinkish color that matches his olive complexion. It was like looking at the top ten hottest males in America. Except I was literally standing smashed to him. Stupid ass clumsiness. He leaned down too me. His hair smelled like ocean musk. The scent straining my brain.
“Watch where you step.” He smirked. He knew what his presence did.
I pushed him off of me. His chest muscles making me gag. He was like an ecstasy pill walking around.
I knew Zeus was disappointed in me. My poor dog.
“So yes, to my proposal?” Damien ruthlessly went back to the business proposal. I was a little appalled at myself at this point. I stared at his face. He was pretty. Ew gross. Gross. He was infuriatingly perfect. He just averted his gaze over to my sweet boy. Oh no.
He walked over to the couch, gracing it with his ass crushing the cushion to sit next to my dog. “Where do you want to start in the first step.” I wasn’t even really asking him a question because I was going to do what I wanted too anyway. He sighed and in all his glory he looked at my dog and said, “hello Zeus, your owner is a little rude.”
My dog betrayed me by wagging his tail and melting against the man. Damien gently rubbed his side. Tenderness. It was fake. I wanted to bang my head against the wall.
I grabbed the files and my secret key for my hidden wall. I didn’t care if he saw because I would just kill him anyway. I stepped in the wall opposite to the couch, a connection to my bedroom and the large windows overlooking the city. I heard shuffling on the couch. I pressed into one of the beautiful grey tiles on the wall, watching it unfold towards me. Each gun, knife, bow, and device I had ever needed that would be concerning to normal people was in this contraction I had designed and developed with my good friend Trent.
I grabbed the small little device. And unfortunately, I had to grab the other one for Damien. I pushed it back into the wall. My entire collection disappearing again. When I turned Damien and Zeus were both looking at me with something I could not place.
I saw adoration glint in the man's eyes. Shit.
Shit.
SHIT.
