Everywhere our bodies touched made my skin sensitive, scrambling my senses. Confusing me. The way his strong body pressed against mine, his solid wall of muscles pushed against my soft ones. It fucking turned me on.
Such bad timing, Y/n. I scolded myself.
Of all the fucking times for my body to wake up from its dormant behavior, it decided to respond and get all hot for this man.
For Jeon fucking Jungkook!
A soft groan left my lips and those blue eyes that appeared even brighter against that dark, olive skin snapped to me. He wasn’t only tall, handsome, and well-built. But something about his firm jaw adorned with a shadow of stubble and that dark hair just rattled something deep inside me.
There was just something about him that struck me as very familiar. Like a long lost memory that I couldn’t quite hone in on.
My brows furrowed as I searched through my mind when his voice interrupted. “You hurt?”
The edge to his voice sent shivers down my spine and his hand tightened around me. His hot breath on my skin, his warmth and masculine scent had my body going into some kind of overdrive. He smelled so damn good, it made me want to nuzzle my face into his neck and lick his skin. Like Aguardiente, this crazy black licorice alcoholic drink I tried once. Yes, he smelled good, like all warm hot-blooded male.
Another groan.
God, why a mafia? My body should have reacted to a nice, decent man. To Sam Wilson, for example. Everyone expected that union. It was the right move, everyone said.
Well, everyone but my best friends. The truth was that Sam and I never really dated. At least not in the classical way. We got along well enough. He never attempted to have sex with me and that alone made him the perfect boyfriend. When he needed dates for official, political occasions, I’d be there for him and likewise. The media made their own conclusions and neither one of us bothered contradicting them. Yes, he’d kiss me and we attempted to fool around once or twice, but it was awkward. I wasn’t experienced but I could tell he was uncomfortable. Maybe he could sense panic each time he touched me; I didn’t know. Either way, we never discussed it.
Regardless, I couldn’t be getting all hot and horny for a mobster. I’d made it my mission to take them down. Not sleep with them.
Although-
Cut the shit, Y/n, I scolded myself.
“Y/n,” he gritted. “Are. You. Hurt?” His voice was deep, velvety, and so masculine. I could only imagine how good it would sound as he-
I cut the train of my thoughts. It was definitely going in the wrong direction. This man wasn’t my type. Not by a mile.
Yet my body couldn’t seem to process that message. “No. I’m fine.”
He stood back up again and helped me up. His arm wrapped around my waist, his eyes alert on the situation around us. The damn courthouse was in disarray. Screams, sirens, and the occasional shot in the distance. I had a bad feeling about this.
“Let’s get out of here.” He nudged me to the left. His eyes lowered to my feet and I followed his gaze. Damn heels! “Want me to carry you?”
My brows shot up.
“Like over your shoulder?” Then realizing what just came out of my mouth, I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. Just another day on the job.”
Idiot! Stop talking. He could probably see the terror on my face. After all, Isla always said I had a lousy poker face.
Thankfully, he didn’t comment. He put his hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward. His palm pressed against me sent a shiver through me. My brain couldn’t process it. My body was just reacting unlike ever before.
This was bad. So fucking bad.
But recognizing that at this moment, he might be the only one who could help me out of this building, I followed.
It took us less than five minutes and my hands gripping this man’s sleeve to make it through what looked like a war zone. It wasn’t an easy task in three inch heels. This guy, on the other hand, looked right at home in this disaster, even wearing an expensive, custom made three-piece-suit and some fancy shoes.
He looked like the handsome devil ruling his domain.
Hell.
Through the chaos and debris, so many groans, moans, and cries, that nobody paid attention to us. We were two that still managed to walk and weren’t bleeding. We didn’t need help.