When Jamien decides to take on STAG, a typical carjack turns out to be anything but. Now he faces one of the hardest decisions of his life, whether or not he should let his hostage go. Set in Saints Row the Third after Nyte Blayde's Return. Rated fo...
It was nearly mid-afternoon when Denitra heard Jamien's phone go off upstairs. She had stayed downstairs away from him and watched TV. He'd never come back down after taking a shower. The silence and separation suited her just fine. The ringing cut off, and she heard him talking, just above a whisper.
"Denitra!"
It made her jump, sending popcorn flying everywhere. She cursed and began to clean it up. "What?"
"Shoes on. Let's go."
Her head snapped up, and she looked towards the stairs but didn't see him. "Where are we going?"
"Professor Genki's studio." The voice came from directly behind her. She jumped again, this time losing all of her popcorn.
"For fuck's sake, can you stop sneaking up on me?!" She stood and faced him, grateful the couch was between them.
He shrugged with a teasing smile. "I can try but I make no promises. Shoes on."
"Who the hell is Professor Genki?" She didn't move; she'd have to pass by him to get her shoes that sat neatly at the base of the stairs on the other end of the couch.
He just stared at her, mouth dropped open. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"
She slowly shook her head. He recovered and shook his head in disbelief. "Okay." He checked his watched. "It's on now." He came around the couch and she panicked, feeling trapped, before she climbed over the couch to stand where he had been. He raised an eyebrow at her. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." She hoped her voice sounded steadier than she felt. Feeling his lips press against her nose earlier had reminded her of what she'd forgotten. He'd kissed her right before she'd fallen asleep. The knowledge of it alone had her stomach twisted in knots. She tried to tell herself it was normal to be attracted to someone as attractive as he was, but her heart knew it was something much more than that. Lust alone didn't make a person cry over someone. Lust alone didn't make a person care about someone's happiness. Lust didn't make a person accept someone as they were, flaws and all.
She shut her eyes tightly. She'd wondered what a kiss from him would feel like, and she now knew. And it wasn't something she'd forget soon, if ever. It was times like this that she hated that she wore her heart on her sleeve. It left her vulnerable.
"You okay over there, tiger?"
She looked at him. His eyes were bright with concern. His lips...
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Dee?" He started towards her.
"No!" She held out her hand, signaling for him to stop. "I'm fine. Just...distracted. I'm putting my shoes on now, see?" She held up a foot for him to see. "I'm ready to go. We can go." She all but ran over to the elevators and hit the call button. She could only hope she wouldn't make a complete fool of herself before the day was over.
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