8. Guns and Coffee

Chapter 8

Guns and Coffee

A dark untouchable beauty.

He reminded me of some ancient warrior. Like a general who would command his armies into battle and insight fear into his enemies with just a look.

He had the type of face that would no doubt become a constant in my dreams, just like the one last night. Although unlike the man they called Mr. Erebus, this man was the dark to his light. He had dark brown eyes, and a dark trimmed beard covering the lower part of his face, framing a pair of lips I suddenly wanted to trace with my fingertip. The bottom one was slight bigger than the top, and they gave nothing away… they didn't move. Not like last night where the Vampire had expressed his cruel amusement freely.

No, not this man. He continued to give nothing away as his dark eyes accessed me, the deep-set gaze seemingly penetrating through every layer and seeing right down into my soul. The shadows at the top of his nose were more prominent as he narrowed his gaze down at me after it seemed like his nostrils had flared for a second. Did I smell or something? And had he just muttered something to himself?

His dark hair, wavy and pushed back from his face, had me wondering if it was longer and currently tied back. Added to this was his high cheekbones, giving him a slightly regal, exotic look.

"I'm… I'm so sorry but I thought someone was following me and…" At hearing this, his eyes lifted and now that harsh gaze was directed at someone else.

He was more than a foot taller than me and put my eyeline at his chest, where I could see his black shirt had enough buttons undone to showcase the barest hint of his skin and the long lines of his neck. And once again, my fingertips itched to touch him, to stroke up his skin and along his jawline.

"I will deal with this," he said, finally speaking, and I swear I thought my toes would curl. I even felt slightly lightheaded when hearing it, a voice so deep it became almost frightening. Then he shifted in front of me protectively and I found myself moving the way he wanted me.

Jesus, the guy was almost as big as the guy last night, although this man's muscle was hidden under a black suit. I could also see from where I stood that I had been right, half of his hair was tied back. It was a sight that made me wonder what it would look like free and wild, running through my hands… would it be as soft as it looked?

Soooo not the time for fantasizing, Nessa.

The second I heard the sound of the hooded man approach us, I looked around the bulk of him and stated the obvious.

"That's him."

The man that had named himself to be my protector looked down at me over his shoulder, and I glanced up in time to see the slightest of smirks as his lips twitched. It was as if he found my obvious observation amusing. And as for obvious observations, the hooded man seemed startled at first when coming around the corner and finding I was no longer alone. For a second, he seemed to think twice but then I gasped when I saw him pull a gun from the waistband of his sweatpants.

Instantly, my hands found their way to my protector's sides and I held on, making him tense the moment I did. In fact, had we not been faced by such a threat, I would have apologized for doing it. But when he didn't shrug me off, I decided it didn't matter. If we were both about to die then I might as well die holding onto someone as beautiful as him. Who knows, perhaps this dark angel would take me back to Heaven with him.

"Give me your wallet, asshole!" the thug demanded, and the man in front of me held his hands open, slightly to the sides as if he was surrendering.

"Come on, hurry the fuck up!" the punk snapped, clearly getting impatient and looking around as if expecting the cops to show up any second.

As for my protector, he didn't seem scared or freaked out in the slightest as he calmy reached into his jacket. Then he pulled his wallet free, still not yet saying a single word to the thief. Instead he silently complied, holding out his wallet for the thug to take.

The hooded man looked around the space once more before taking cautious steps forward, reaching out with his free hand ready to snatch it. However, the second he got close enough, my protector had other ideas and his hand snapped up in what seemed like a well-practiced move. Swift and effective. The man howled in pain as I heard bone snap after he broke his wrist, then the gun, along with the wallet dropped to the floor instantly.

After this the man in front of me, grabbed the thief by the throat and dragged him closer, only to issue one single command.

"Run."

The sound came out like some murderous promise should the thug not think to heed the extended invitation to live. It was a sound that made me shiver and instantly my hands released their hold on my protector. Because now I had something else to be afraid of, and it wasn't the man that had been waving the gun our way.

He let go of the thug and the second he was free, he quickly took this as a lucky escape and good advice on how to stay breathing. Because one second he was there, and the next he was running into the night, nearly falling over himself in his haste. Meanwhile, I was smart enough to take a few cautious steps back.

Then the man released a deep sigh, as if this had all been very taxing on him and having a guy pull a gun on him was an everyday occurrence. Jesus, who was this guy?! But that was when it hit me, making me blurt out,

"Are you a cop?"

He paused his movements for a second, because he had been leaning down to retrieve the gun and his wallet. Then he rose back to his full height and turned to face me. I watched as he calmly placed his wallet back in his inside jacket pocket, and I couldn't help but eye the gun in his hand warily.

"Not today I am not," he replied cryptically, making me frown.

"You mean you're off duty?" I asked, pushing for more.

"Something like that," he told me before tucking the gun in the waistband of his trousers at the back, out of sight beneath his jacket. Again, his reply had me frowning in question. What did he mean by ‘something like that'? It was either a yes or no answer… wasn't it?

"What is your name?" he asked me, and for some reason I couldn't stop myself from telling him.

"I'm Vanessa, but my friends call me Nessa."

"Vanessa," he repeated, making me inwardly sigh and hold back the muttered response of, ‘not a friend then, okie dokie'. Although if I was honest, I couldn't be too disappointed because, at the very least, I got to hear the way he said my name. Again, another toe-curling moment and most likely the true reason I held back my response.

"And you are?" I asked, thinking this only fair. I expected a name in return, but what I got was so much more, and he held out his hand for me to shake.

"It is nice to meet you, Vanessa, I am Victor."

I eyed his hand, once again wary of what may happen when I gave him a piece of myself. Would he snatch me up like the man last night had?

He watched my hesitation with interest, his raised brow seemingly daring me to give him my hand. As if this was a test and he was curious to know if I was brave enough to pass it. So, with the mindset that the guy had just saved my life, I placed my hand in his much larger one and let him curl his fingers around mine, easily swallowing it whole. Then he shook it lightly, his skin feeling slightly rough, as if he were more used to manual labor than sitting behind a desk like the suit implied.

He had the hands of a warrior.

Christ, why couldn't I get that thought out of my head? Maybe because he was still holding my hand and hadn't yet let it go after the customary time shaking a stranger's hand usually took. Which was why my nervousness was hitting new heights, making me say something as stupid as,

"Our parents must have both liked the letter V."

Oh My God, did I really just say that? I would have smacked myself on my forehead if my right hand was free.

His mouth quirked up on one side for the slightest second just like it had before.

"Well thank you for saving my life, that was… erm… impressive," I said, trying to make a point of taking back my hand, something he hadn't yet allowed.

He ignored my praise and my thanks, instead shocking me completely by asking, "Have dinner with me."

I snatched my hand away more forcefully this time, meaning he had no choice but to let me go. Then I laughed nervously, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets, my fingers flexing behind the material as if I could still feel his fingers curled over my own.

"I can't do that… I mean, I don't know you," I told him, making his eyes crinkle a little at the sides because, again, he looked to be fighting a grin.

"Sure you do, we share the letter V and survived a mugging together," he teased, surprising me, because he didn't strike me as the type that even knew how to joke. In fact, he was the most serious male I had ever met in my life.

"Well technically, I think you can say the mugger survived you," I teased back, making him smirk fully this time. It was the closest thing to a smile so far and Jesus Christ, it was breathtaking! In fact, if this guy ever smiled fully then I think that would have been criminal… forget the gunman.

"Then you can thank me over dinner," he stated as if he wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"I think I already thanked you," I pointed out, and he argued playfully,

"Not over dinner, you didn't."

I laughed at that before pointing my finger at him, telling him, "Oh now you're smooth."

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I do try."

I couldn't help but look him up and down and be bold enough to say, "Looking like that, I suspect you don't have to try too hard at all."

His eyes widened at this because I had clearly shocked him with my brave response and well, he wasn't the only one… I could feel myself start to blush.

"Is that a compliment, Vanessa?" he asked seductively, stepping closer and, again, the way my name just rolled off his tongue, my God I thought I would soon start panting. But to try and not let on to how much he was affecting me, I told him,

"You look like a smart guy… one who owns a mirror." I added the last part behind my hand like it was a secret, and this time the grin he awarded me was nearly fucking blinding!

I swear this man couldn't be real! There was no way anyone was that beautifully raw.

"I am smart enough to ask a beautiful woman to dinner before she can disappear on me," he replied confidently, making me suck back a quick breath at having this living God in front of me calling me beautiful. It didn't feel real, more like a dream I found myself mentally pleading with God to let me never wake from.

Because there was no way this man could find me beautiful.

"So, what is it to be, Vanessa?" he asked, his deep voice becoming smoother and more seductive.

Jesus… every time he said my name, I nearly closed my eyes, just so I could complete the fantasy and picture us in a bedroom. In fact, it felt dangerous. As if all he ever needed to do was say my name that way and I would do anything he asked of me.

Knowing that I needed to find my backbone and take back some control, I told him, "Coffee."

"Coffee?" he repeated, as if surprised.

"Yeah, we can go for coffee but on one condition," I said, making him raise a single dark brow as if this was all it ever took for him to get people to speak.

Naturally, it worked, because I told him my one simple condition…

"I pay."