She lets out a broken sound—half sob, half laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” I murmur, lips brushing the corner of her mouth. “But I’m the only thing standing between you and the wolves. And I’ll burn Club Z to ash before I let them touch you.”
Her body trembles against mine, but she doesn’t push me away. She doesn’t run. She just breathes me in like poison she can’t quit.
Tremors wracked her body as she leaned against the door, her quiet words swallowed by the house’s silence. Silence that isn’t really silence—because I can hear Kate’s faint laughter from down the hall, muffled through her bedroom door, the clatter of a suitcase she’s still unpacking.
Every second Brooklyn raises her voice risks exposure. Every word about Rafe feels like a bullet I can’t let land.
“Keep your voice down,” I snap, my palm flattening over her mouth before she can argue. Her eyes go wide, tears shimmering, the sound she makes small and furious against my hand.
Kate’s footsteps echo faintly upstairs. My chest knots, rage and hunger tangling together as I press harder into Brooklyn.
“Don’t,” I whisper against her ear, voice laced with steel and want. “Don’t make me explain myself where she could hear.”
Her muffled protest vibrates against my hand, and I drag it away just enough for her to speak. She spits the words like venom.
“I saw enough, Dean. I saw who you are. That man outside—he knew my name. He knew me. And you’re acting like it’s nothing?”
My grip on her jaw tightens, forcing her gaze onto me. “It is nothing if you let it be nothing. But if you keep screaming, if you keep doubting me in this house, you’re the one who’s going to bring danger to our doorstep. To Kate’s doorstep.”
That slices her. I see it in her face—the way guilt coils low, the way her mouth trembles around words she can’t let out because Kate’s right upstairs.
“I can’t do this,” she whispers. Her voice shakes, but it’s soft now, ragged, terrified. “I can’t be this secret in the shadows while you—while you do whatever the hell you do at that club. If she finds out…”
I lean in so close she feels the scrape of my stubble against her skin. “If she finds out, then she finds out. But it won’t be because of me.” My lips ghost her temple. “It’ll be because you can’t stop screaming when I touch you.”
Her knees nearly buckle. I catch her hips, holding her steady, pinning her between the wood and my chest. Upstairs, Kate’s footsteps cross again, the floorboards groaning. Brooklyn freezes, eyes darting toward the ceiling.
I smirk against her cheek. “Quiet now, baby girl. You wouldn’t want your best friend coming down to find out why her father’s got you shaking in his hands, would you?”
Her breath stutters—half terror, half desire—and I know I’ve got her cornered, trapped, tethered to me even tighter.
Her lips are inches from mine, words trembling through the sliver of air between us.
“Dean…” It’s broken, ragged, barely audible.
My thumb grazes the corner of her mouth, forcing her whisper to stay caged. “Not now. Not loud. Not when she’s here.”
Brooklyn shakes her head, tears still streaking hot down her cheeks, dripping onto my wrist. “I hate this,” she breathes, chest heaving against me. “I hate sneaking. I hate that man knowing my name. I hate?—”
“Shhh.” My mouth brushes the shell of her ear, every syllable timed to her stuttering breath. “You don’t hate me. You hate that I own you where no one else can see. You hate that I make you forget her upstairs while your body begs for me down here.”
Her nails bite into my shirt, fisting the fabric like she wants to shove me away—but she doesn’t. She drags me closer.
“You’re wrong,” she whispers, so faint I feel it more than hear it. “I don’t forget her. I think about her every time your hands are on me. Every time I let you—” Her voice splinters, throat closing around the truth.
I cage her tighter, forehead pressing to hers, my whisper a dark snarl. “Every time you let me what? Say it, Brooklyn. Say it to me, even if you choke on it.”
Her jaw trembles. Upstairs, Kate’s laugh floats down again, careless, oblivious.
Brooklyn squeezes her eyes shut, mouth trembling open on a whisper so soft I almost miss it.
“Every time I let you ruin me.”
My chest heaves. My control shreds. The need to devour her here, now, claws at me like an animal straining against the leash.
But Kate’s shadow stretches over every sound, every breath, every whisper.
