The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 30

I spin around as a guy damn near as tall as Blake shoves him. He staggers back, but immediately recovers and pushes the guy back. Miranda's standing just behind him, a mischievous grin on her lips. My entire team is on their feet, watching intently.
The two continue to yell at one another. I stalk across the space, vaguely aware a few of my team members follow me. Without thinking, I push between them, place my hands on Blake's chest and push, hard. He continues to talk shit to the guy, the tension in his chest muscles too noticeable.
Everyone shuts up and he gazes down at me, and then at my hands on his chest. I slowly let them drop, keeping my eyes on his.
"Enough," I whisper.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and reopening them. Miranda's to my right, staring at him, her mouth hanging open.
Trouble making bitch.
"Listen, enough yelling, Let's jus— " Something hard connects with my cheek.
Miranda's ex-boyfriend has got balls. He doesn't know who I am . . . but he's about to. Blake goes to move around me, but Dresden and Vlad each grab one of his arms. I stand straighter, and gently touch my cheek, hiding the pain it brings.
"Don't interfere, Mr. Mason." Dresden is quiet but firm.
I meet the brute's menacing stare. "So, you like to hit woman, huh?"
He stalks forward, his hand cocked back ready to slap me again. As soon as he's within arm's reach, I jab my right fist out, hitting the side of his face, followed by a swift kick to his balls. Adrenaline courses through my veins, sending my brain into a mode I know all too well. He falls to his knees and I bring my left fist diagonally across my body, swinging to connect with his face again. He falls to the floor and I kick him onto his back.
I squat next to him and fight to keep my voice steady. "The next time you come near Mr. Mason, or any of his friends, I'll put a bullet in your head. Have a good evening."
As I stand, two police officers' barrel through the door and move toward me. Jax intercepts them, holding up his Interpol badge. We move to the front of our table as one officer talks to Miranda's ex and the other Jax. Blake's gaze is glued to me, an unreadable expression on his face.
Behind him, Vlad, Dresden, and Rhett stare at me with the same expression.
Blake reaches up and takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, sending a strong wave of tremors through my body. He tilts my heads to the side, examining my cheek.
"This is probably going to bruise," he whispers.
I jerk my chin from his grasp and laugh darkly.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. Relax, Mr. Mason, I'm fine."
He leans down in a very measured way and puts his lips next to me ear. "Call me, Blake."
"Why? Does it matter what I call you?"
He chuckles, his breath on my skin sending shivers down my spine. "I like the way my name sounds on your lips."
Fuck . . . me.
He stands back up and I fidget, pressing my thighs together as blood pulses through my veins to my sex. In my peripheral, Jax is regarding us through narrowed eyes.
The following week, Caleb and Miranda come by Blake's apartment every night. They've texted each other very little, so I'm assuming Blake let them know his phone is monitored. I suspect he's emailing instead, which Sammi could hack, but it doesn't concern me right now.
I've spent the majority of tonight standing on the balcony outside my bedroom. Horns blare from the street below mixed with people shouting and music coming from every bar in Canton. Friday night's a busy one in Baltimore. I'm glad Blake and his friends decided to have a quiet night here. He's got a charity event next weekend, so the down time is appreciated.