radicalducati Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Adolphus’s POV
The rain came suddenly, cold and relentless, drenching us in seconds. I pulled away as Katrina let out a sharp breath, shivering as the icy drops soaked through her clothes.
Without thinking, I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“Come on,” I said, gripping her wrist. “There’s a place nearby.”
She didn’t argue. Whether it was the cold or exhaustion, I wasn’t sure, but she let me guide her through the dark, empty path. The apartment wasn’t far, just outside the Packhouse, tucked away from the others. A place few knew about.
I unlocked the door and pushed it open, flicking on the dim lights. Katrina stepped inside cautiously, her damp clothes clinging to her body in ways that had me clenching my jaw.
“This is… yours?” she asked, glancing around.
“Yeah.” I shut the door behind us. “No one comes here. It’s quiet.”
She pulled my jacket tighter around herself, her teeth faintly chattering.
I walked past her, grabbing a dry T-shirt and sweatpants from the drawer. “Here. Change into these.”
She hesitated before taking them. “Thanks.”
I nodded and turned away, giving her space. I ran a hand through my wet hair, breathing deeply, trying not to focus on how the fabric of her soaked shirt clung to her curves.
Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric. Then came a low grunt of frustration.
“Ugh. God damn it.”
I turned slightly. “What?”
“This thing—” she growled, tugging at the soaked warrior uniform. “It’s sticking to me. Won’t come off.”
I stayed where I was, not daring to look. “You want help?”
“No,” she said quickly, then sighed. “Actually… yes. Just—don’t make this weird.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Too late.
I turned around cautiously, trying to keep my gaze above her shoulders. She had pulled the top halfway off, her arms trapped in the sleeves, her torso already bare save for a few strands of wet hair sticking to her skin.
“Just grab the back and pull,” she muttered.
I stepped closer, hooked my fingers into the soaked fabric, and gave it a firm tug. The top peeled away from her skin with an unpleasant squelch.
“One, two, three.”
We yanked at the same time, and the shirt finally gave way—ripping over her head and flying off to the side. What was supposed to be a quick assist ended in full exposure.
And just like that, she was standing there. Naked. Completely.
My breath caught.
Her skin glistened with moisture, water trailing down every curve, her damp hair framing her face and shoulders like a painting too perfect for this moment. And I—
I should’ve looked away. But I didn’t.
She noticed.
She blinked, then frowned slightly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I stepped back, jaw tight. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
Her brows shot up. “What?”
I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over my face. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?”