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THE HALLWAY OUTSIDEDevil’s office buzzed with low voices and the loud thump of music bleeding in from the common room, the kind of sound that crawled under your skin and settled there whether you wanted it to or not. By the time I stepped out into the main room, the brothers were already spread around the tables, cards slappin’ down, cash changin’ hands, somebody claimin’ they’d been cheated while Spinner barked a laugh at whatever bullshit Mystic tossed out. Bottles clinked. Chairs scraped. Somebody cussed loud enough the air shook with it.
Noise. Chaos. Home. But none of it was why my damn pulse kicked.
I headed toward the bar, tellin’ myself it was just instinct, just habit, just the usual sweep I did every time I came into a room. But I wasn’t foolin’ myself. Not even close.
Yeah, I was lookin’ for her.
Lark stood at the far end of the counter, talkin’ with Lucy and Zeynep, and it hit me all over again, how the hell a woman like her ended up in a place like this. Her hair caught theoverhead bulbs like it had been dipped in gold and set loose, wild curls spilling down her back and over her shoulders like they refused to be tamed by anyone or anything. Soft where almost everything in this clubhouse was hard. Bright where the world she’d crawled out of had been dark.
And her skin… Jesus. Even from across the room it looked warm, sunlit, glowing in a way that made my hands itch. Made me wonder if she felt as soft as she looked, if that warmth went all the way through or if it was just a shine the dim bar lights managed to find.
She was too damn pretty for the life that tried to break her. Too alive for the shadows she’d survived. Too steady for the fear she’d learned to outrun.
She didn’t dress for eyes, but mine locked on her anyway and refused to look anywhere else. Simple jeans hugging the curve of her ass. A pink tank soft against her breasts. Legs long enough a man could spend a lifetime figuring out how to get between them. And the way she moved—slow without meaning to, graceful without tryin’, her body whisperin’ promises she probably didn’t even know she was makin’.
She lifted her chin a little, that stubborn line she always held, like she’d spent years being told to bow and decided she was done with that shit forever. And that defiance—that quiet, steady pride—slid under my ribs in a way I didn’t have words for. Made heat spread straight to my cock. Made every thought in my head turn raw and wicked.
She didn’t even know she was doin’ it to me. Or maybe she did. Either way, I couldn’t look away. Wouldn’t’ve even if the damn place caught fire around us.
My thoughts turned darker the more I stared at her. Dangerous dark. The kind that crawled low in your gut and stayed there, thick and hungry. The kind I tried to lock down because if I didn’t, I’d cross every line I shouldn’t with her.
All I could think about was how she’d sound if I kissed that defiance off her mouth. How she’d look pinned under me, breathless and arching. How her voice would break when she moaned my name. What she’d take from me. What she’d give back.
Lucy said somethin’ that made her laugh—low, quiet, warm. God. That sound damn near took my knees out. It curled inside me like smoke, rich and thick and slow burnin’’.
I stopped before anyone caught me staring like some lovesick idiot. Felt stupid for it too, because I wasn’t the kind of man who watched a woman from across the room, wantin’ more than I had any business wantin’.
She shouldn’t’ve been here. Not in this world. Not in this chaos.
But she was. And she wasn’t scared of any of it.
Then her eyes lifted and locked straight on mine. Like she felt me thinkin’ about her. Like she wanted me to keep goin’.
The hit of it came fast and deep, the same pull I’d felt the night I carried her out of that tunnel, only now it was sharper, hotter, burnin’ through every bit of sense I had left. There was heat behind it now. A silent dare. A fuckin’ promise.
She didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. She just held my gaze, steady and sure, like she was the one callin’ the damn shots.
There was a spark in her eyes now, challenge, curiosity, maybe heat she wasn’t ready to admit to.
I lifted a brow slow. A silent:You seein’ me the way I’m seein’ you, darlin’?
Her mouth curved.
Not a smile, somethin’ smaller, heavier, the kind of expression a woman gives when she knows exactly what she’s doin’ to a man and isn’t the least bit sorry for it. My blood kicked hard. Damn near groaned at the sight of it.
Something shifted, inside me, inside the room, hell maybe inside the damn air. Even the noise behind me felt like it was holdin’ its breath.
She didn’t move toward me. Didn’t soften. Didn’t drop her gaze. She held her ground like a woman who’d finally learned she didn’t have to bow to anybody.
And that confidence? That quiet fire? It made me want her even more.
My feet were already moving before I told them to, solid strides cutting through the noise and the laughter until all of it faded to nothin’ but background behind the weight of her eyes on me.
Her spine straightened the closer I got. Her breath hitched—barely. Her fingers curled tight around the edge of the bar. I saw the way her lips parted. Just enough. Just for a second. Like her body knew what I meant to do before her mind caught up.
But she didn’t back up. Didn’t look down. Didn’t give me a single inch.
