Free Sake Bomb by Sable Jordan Page B

down the short hallway that led
to the main room. The intruder wasn’t even hiding; standing at the
bed a short distance away, rifling through her things. He
stiffened, and then slowly turned, a smile on his face and her
chocolates from Phil in his large grip.
    “Princ—” Barked laughter cut off the
annoying nickname. Xander tossed the candy on the bed, motioned
toward her hand. “The hell were you gonna do, sweetheart, TP me to
death?”
    She hurled the roll of toilet paper at his
head. “Distract.” He ducked it easily as she thrust her other hand
forward. “Attack. Believe me, I’da found a way to push this
toothbrush through your eye.” Her lip curled in a snarl. “Still
might.”
    “You missed me, didn’t you?”
    “Like a frosty, metal speculum. Hand me a
towel, Duquesne.”
    Xander didn’t move, stared at her hair
although the rest of her was dripping wet and naked. She
self-consciously palmed the damp ends at her shoulder.
    “You cut it.” He said it as though it
bothered him. But damn all that—he said it as if he had any choice
in what she did with her hair. Or the rest of her, for that matter.
“Black’s too dark. Drowns out your eyes. And way too short.”
    “Towel, Duquesne.” Xander had already seen
far too much of her for her liking. The horribly-timed thought of
when she was last under his control made her wet nipples bead. She
inched closer. “I’m freezing here.”
    “I don’t think you’re cold at all.” Xander
licked his lower lip, gaze caressing her skin. She couldn’t stop
the shudder. “Happy Birthday to me,” he said, voice a velvet-soft
mumble. “This is a nice present. Unexpected…a little early…but very
nice. Remind me to thank Phil.”
    Phil was so getting his ass
kicked.
    Seeing Xander earlier should have squelched
any nervous energy at their reunion, but her belly fluttered
something crazy, and that was not okay. “Uhh…‘bout that
towel….”
    “I prefer my sub naked, but I guess we can
get you dry.” Xander plucked a white cloth from the pile on the bed
and opened it wide. Standing too close, he started drying her
breasts.
    Kizzie snatched the towel and wrapped it
around herself, cutting her eyes at him. Xander chuckled. “Gotta be
careful with those. They look soft, but I found a knife in one.” He
dug in his pocket and came out with her lucky blade.
    Perfect. Getting to her other weapon meant
going through him. Not an impossible feat. If he tried anything
stupid, Xander would be the one with the knife in a gunfight.
Pretty basic; no frills. Bullets didn’t need frills…
    “This is special to you.” His thumb caressed
the handle of the knife she’d carried for years. “Wood’s worn.” He
hovered it over her open palm; jerked it away and smirked when she
reached for it. A short scrape and click sounded, exposing the
sharp blade. “A personal thing, using a knife. Feeling it slice
through skin and muscle. Hit bone. It can take a while; the type of
kill that stays with you. Not nearly as easy as pulling a
trigger.”
    Xander held her gaze a beat, then angled
away, sliding his hand between the mattress and box spring. When he
regained his height, her Beretta was in his grip.
    Kizzie’s stance didn’t change, palm still
open and an impatient “give it to me already” look on her face.
Inside was a different matter. Inside, her heart sped to breakneck
pace and her ribs compressed, too small for her lungs. The
adrenaline surge said run. Phil warned her Xander would do anything
to distract her from her goal. Not breathing would be one hell of a
distraction…
    Assess.
    No quick moves. Unless the barrel pointed
her way. Then she’d fight like hell.
    Studying the weapon, Xander checked the
safety and set it on the nearby nightstand. “I wonder, could you
really kill a man with this?” He indicated the knife. Then his
scarred brow lifted. “If you had to, would you kill me with
it?”
    Her mouth turned up a hint at the
corners.
    “I don’t