“My dad or the club?”
“Both.”
“Better that than being locked up like an animal.”
My hand tightens on instinct.Her reaction ain’t fear.Not entirely.There’s a tremble, but not the kind she wants me to think it is.A tremor that whispers want under her skin.
“What do you think is out here?”I demand.“What do you think you’ll find that we haven’t?”
“Something my daddy hid,” she spits."A thing you're too blind to seek."
“You think I’m protecting him.”
Her eyes sharpen.“I think you’re wasting time.”
She twists again, hips brushing mine.
My breath stutters.
Her mistake.My mistake.Her lips are suddenly inches from mine.
Her voice softens, dangerous.
“You don’t understand the danger,” I say quietly.
“And you don’t understand what Pearly Gates becomes when the doors close,” she whispers.“You can’t imagine what I saw growing up there.”
Her voice trembles at the edges, real fear bleeding through the armor of anger.
I lean in until our foreheads nearly touch.“I was there remember?”
“Sometimes.Not always.”
That’s Becki.I don’t know if she doesn’t remember, or she’s saying I wasn’t there as long as her.It doesn’t matter.“I know plenty.”
She doesn’t pull away.
“Why do you even care?”she breathes.
Because I do.Because I shouldn’t.Because I’m sick in the head for wanting her bound to my bed where no one, not her daddy, not Oaks, not even goddamn Legend or even a fucking Demon Leaper, can touch her.
My free hand moves to her waist, fingers digging into her soft skin.Her palm hits my chest.Not to push me away.To steady herself.The air turns molten.
And then…
My mouth brushes hers.Barely.A ghost of a kiss.Her breath hitches.Her knees give just slightly.Her fingers curl in my hoodie.I’m one second from losing it entirely… Pinning her wrists above her head, pressing my knife flat to her thigh just to hear her gasp…
When my sanity claws me back.
I rip myself away like she’s fire.Her eyes open, furious and confused.Like she can’t decide whether to fight me or pull me back in.I bend down, grab the key off the ground, hold it up.
My voice comes out rough.
Scraped raw.
“Where did you get this?”
“I stole it.”
