Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss-Chapter 109: But he burned

Chapter Hundred and Nine

Her smile continued to curve slowly across her face, not wide, not giddy... just real. The kind that crept up when you weren’t looking. The kind you didn’t know you needed until it showed up anyway.

She dropped her gaze, exhaled, and then glanced toward the door. Still slightly ajar.

He was probably still in the bedroom. Probably still grinning like an idiot.

She rolled her eyes at him, at herself but didn’t wipe the smile away.

A soft knock tapped against the doorframe. She quickly hid the smile on her face.

She did not look up. Just ran a hand over her hair, adjusting the strands around her face. "Hmm?"

The door creaked open a little more, and Ahmet stepped inside.

She caught his reflection in the mirror... he hesitated for half a second, then crossed the room in a few quiet strides. No teasing grin this time. Just something quieter in his eyes.

His arms slipped around her waist from behind, he was warm and his familiar scent wafted her nose, pulling her gently against him. His chin came to rest on her shoulder.

She did not move. She did not even pull away.

Her heart thudded a little too hard in her chest, but her body stayed still, letting herself feel the weight of him on her.

"You stitched yourself up again," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her skin, eyes locked on the edge of gauze peeking out beneath her shirt.

Stitched yourself up. Again.’

The words echoed in her head, slow and heavy like someone had underlined them with a red marker.

Her brow furrowed.

’Again?’

How the hell did he know that she had stitched herself up? How did he even know she was shot? Had he still been keeping tabs on her?

Her breath caught.

Before she could ask, her head snapped to face him...

...and that was when it happened.

His face was closer than she thought. Much closer. Well, she had forgotten he was resting his head on her shoulder.

Her turn met his face halfway, and then—

Contact.

Their lips collided. Unexpectedly fast, clunky at first, then not clumsy at all. His hand moved reflexively to grasp the side of her face, anchoring her there while his lips pressed more firmly against hers. Warmth burst in her chest, intense and rapid, and spread through her like wildfire.

He tasted of cinnamon gum.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, unsure if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away. But her body made the decision for her. She leaned in, grounding against him, and surrendering to the weight of the moment.

The kiss deepened.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful.

It was the kind of kiss you didn’t plan. The kind that stole something from you while giving something back.

When she finally pulled away...just barely... though it took all her willpower to do so, her breath came in soft pants, her forehead brushing his.

"How did you know?" she whispered, not quite a big deal but it was. Her eyes searched his.

He didn’t answer. Not with words.

His thumb traced the lines of her shoulders, slow and reverent, and his gaze stayed locked on hers like he had been waiting to look at her properly all night.

"I just saw it," he said at last, his voice quieter now like he was handing over a confession. "You didn’t notice, but that was where my hand first went. When I hugged you... I lifted your blouse just a bit. Saw the gauze through the mirror."

Her brows pulled together. "Huh?"

She blinked at him, uncertain whether to be impressed, offended, or confused. That brief hug hadn’t lasted long. It was seconds, at best. And she hadn’t felt his hand do anything out of place. Not really.

He must have seen the doubt flicker across her face because his lips curled into that irritatingly confident smile again.

"If you don’t believe me," he murmured, stepping a little away from me. Her, "Try searching for your bra."

She froze.

Her eyes narrowed as the heat slowly crept up her neck. Her mouth opened...then closed... then opened again.

"You did not," she said, her voice low, and dangerously laced beneath the words.

"You can see my hands that I don’t have it in them," he said quickly, hands raised in a mock surrender, grin never fading. "But I may have... accidentally relocated it."

She stared at him, jaw slack for half a second before she spun around to fling open the cabinet behind her.

Empty.

She whipped open another.

Nothing.

Then, there it was. Tucked behind the waist of his trousers. Like a trophy. She removed it from there.

His grin widened as he distanced himself from her more and leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a sparkle in his eyes, like he was enjoying every second of her disbelief.

She hated that look on his face. She launched the bra at his head. He ducked... barely.

"You’re insane," she muttered, though her lips betrayed her with the twitch of an involuntary smile.

"And yet... you kissed me."

She rolled her eyes. "You kissed me."

He didn’t argue. Just smiled.

"I get it," she said, arching a brow at him, lips curving into a taunting smirk. "You’re fast at removing clothes."

He chuckled, and his head tipped slightly as if accepting the compliment with a mock bow.

But as her words lingered in the air, so did something else.

A shadow slipped behind her smile. It was quiet, unwelcome.

’How many clothes has he taken off before you? Even during you?’

The thought slithered in before she could stop it, cold and sharp behind the warmth of her own teasing. She didn’t show it. Didn’t flinch. But the joke suddenly felt a little heavier than it had a second ago.

He hadn’t answered yet, still grinning like he had the upper hand.

She turned away, busying herself with the sink tap—too casually.

As a matter of fact, he had acknowledged that removing clothes was in fact one of his specialties.

It was as if he could sense her shift in mood and he immediately reached out to her. "I’m only worried."

She gave a slow nod. She was thinking of how to kill.

"I’ve seen wolves take better care of themselves," he added, his voice low, and lips brushing just above her skin.

She let out a breath: half a scoff, half a sigh. "You are one to talk."

His arms tightened slightly like he didn’t want to let go. Like maybe he hadn’t meant to come in just to tease her this time.

And still, that small smile ghosted her lips in the mirror.

"I think I... I ... I have..." he sighed. He couldn’t let the words out and she wondered what he wanted to tell her.

Ahmet on the other hand, didn’t know if it was right to tell her. Hell, he didn’t know what he was saying.

Was he certain of his feelings for her? He was a Mafia and still wasn’t used to feeling this way.

Could he love her the way she deserved? Would she be able to accept him?

Even if the answers to his questions were yes, how about their families? Would they accept them?

He was doomed. She was his doom.

When he found out she had returned with gun wounds, he first thought Demir or whatever his name was had done it. They went for a mission together, how come only she returned hurt while the others were unscathed?

Then he learned she was stupid enough to... no, careless should be the right word.

Why would she want to show off? Was it to please Demir? It annoyed him. He didn’t know whether to be jealous or be angry.

Demir was supposed to protect her. Not watch her danger herself.

He clenched his fists as if controlling himself. He couldn’t tell her how he felt. It would only push her away.

"I wasn’t sure of your size. I could only hope they fit." He said out of the blue.

"Hmm." She responded.

He leaned in without thinking, his breath brushing the curve of her neck. A slow inhale was drawn deep, and deliberate until the scent of her filled his lungs like smoke.

His voice came low, rough. "I want you, Asli."

It slipped out before he could chain it down, and the moment the words left his mouth, he knew, that that wasn’t what he meant to say.

Not entirely.

He had not meant to sound hungry. Not that hungry.

He wanted her, yes... but not just in the way that made his blood run hot and his fingers twitch to touch her skin. He wanted more. Too much, maybe.

His mouth stayed shut, his jaw tight. If he said the rest... if he cracked open that door and showed her what was clawing inside him, it might ruin everything.

So he said nothing else.

But God, he burned.