I shake my head, not willing to voice her victory out loud. He urges me on. “Come on, that was impressive, you can’t lie, Saint.”
It was better than impressive, because right now, I want to run down there and find her.
I want to pin her to the wall and fuck her senseless.
My darling little monster is stirring my beast awake again.
I flex my hips in the seat and adjust my belt.
“You have anything to do with that?” I ask, taking another drag into my blackened lungs.
That breathless voice fills into the room instead. “Rex has actually been giving me tips with my aim.”
I crane my neck over the back of the sofa to see her standing at the threshold, arms folded, looking just as smug as she is beautiful.
“I said you could tell him when I wasn’t in the fucking room!” Rex exclaims, jumping from his seat on the sofa to round it.
He throws his hands up defensively, walking backwards towards the exit, keeping his cautious gaze on me.
“Sometimes, we just need a little push.” He winks at me, before slipping out the room.
I fan my arm behind the couch, beckoning Indie with my fingers. “You get thirty seconds to gloat.”
She’s over to me like a whippet, plopping herself in the space Rex occupied before he skittered out of the room.
She leans her elbow on the back of the couch, head resting in her palm as she purrs through her words with her best English accent. “Have I charmed you yet,boss?”
Fuck me.
My head falls back against the sofa, the cigarette pressed between my lips. “Maybe.”
She plucks it from my mouth, discarding it somewhere on the floor. She’s in my lap before I can even track where it went, and my laugh rumbles off the walls.
Soft hands cup either side of my face, and anyone looking us might think it’s a sweet gesture passing between lovers, but she’s fucking squeezing my jaw.
It only makes me laugh harder.
“You say that word one more fucking time, Saint, I’m going to tattoo it onto your forehead.”
After applying a bit more pressure for good measure, her hands drop in defeat, and I catch the glimpse of a plea in her eyes, breaking through the front she just had.
She goes to stand up, but I band my arms around her waist. “Don’t run off in a mood just yet, darling.”
She shifts on her ass to face me, crossing her arms across her chest, the annoyance radiating heat from her.
“What the fuck else do I need to do? You want me to kill someone? Bring me someone from the Omnia, and I’ll show you how serious I am, Saint.” Her chest rises and falls, her brows dipped as her gaze searches my face for the answer.
“You’ll get a chance for that. Certainly got some fucking experience of it,” I say through a sigh, and it’s deep, full of frustration, and a lot of fucking suffering.
“If I let you go”—I clap my hand over her mouth as it opens—“you listen toeveryfucking word I say. You don’t question it. And you sure as fuck don’t leave my side. I’m deadly serious, Indie, or else you’ll seemymonster.”
And the devil is the master of them all.
I can feel the corner of her lips tilt upwards against my palm. The scowl she has loosens, so I release my hold on her. “Now why would I run from you after all this time? I won’t leave your side, promise, Sainty.”
A gruff rumble comes from me, despite the pang in my chest.
The memories of our early twenties flash behind my eyes.
