“Easy,” I say low, and the word sounds softer than I intend.
She flinches like she’s heard an old insult.
It twists something in me.
I want to wrap my hand around her throat, grab her by the back of her neck and yank her closer, and kiss that expressive mouth until she yields to me. It’s a dangerous thought. My loyalty to Saint is the only reason I don’t. But if he decides he doesn’t want her, I’ll gladly take her off his hands.
And somehow, she’s not recoiling from me. She’s far too used to dangerous men.
I change my mind.
“Call me Sin.” I haven’t let a woman put a name to me since before I wanted to be a ghost. It almost comes out shy, like I don’t want to fit into a category of men she’s encountered before.
But I do. I can’t change that.
I stand abruptly, taking the cigarette from behind my ear.
She tests my name with her voice, letting it come out soft and smoky. “Sin.”
It’s enough to threaten my control, and I can’t explain why. I’m lighting the cigarette before I get out the door. “Keep this locked.”
Ensuring it’s locked before I close the door quietly, I walk away and attempt to alter reality to where I was just checking on her.
The song she played repeats in my head. It won’t leave.
7
WREN
I scramble out of bed the second the door clicks closed. It’s such a soft noise for his storming out. Or maybe Sin wasn’t storming, but his every move is amplified by an abundance of intensity.
I check the door to make sure it’s locked before I crawl back under the covers. And I roll, shifting fitfully as I fall into a light slumber. My mind won’t let me abandon consciousness completely. Not after being yanked from nightmares a few minutes ago.
And the way Sin touched me, how he barged in at the sounds of my internal struggle like I might actually be hurt.
The man who held me at gunpoint out front.
A spark went through me at that moment. My instincts telling me that he wouldn’t hurt me unless I gave him a good reason to.
Again, in the darkness of Saint’s room, once I knew it was Sin, I stopped being afraid. He wasn’t Grant, and that meant I was safe.
It’s naive. I know. Because I’ve fallen into a den of vipers—surrounded by strange, dangerous men. But Sin could have hurt me just now.
He didn’t.
Why?
And the way he touched me…those small caresses like he wanted me. But more so, he wanted to make me feel good. Not scare me.
Even if he is intimidating and scary.
I know the man is dangerous. They’re all dangerous.
But somehow…I’m not terrified the way I was with Grant.
My thoughts shift to Doc. His kindness. Also he’s so much more gentle than I imagined a biker could be. Careful. Nurturing. His short dark hair styled, smoothing out the roughness of the rest of his demeanor.
Touching me like I’m some kind of prize. He doesn’t know I noticed how he protected me on the way through the bar, down to his office and then to Saint’s, hovering at my back. Almost touching me, watching me with intent. He can see too much of me already.
