“Do it,” I demand.
He groans, lifting Ethan bridal style. Ethan transforms from murderous cat to pleased python. That’ll keep him happy till I’m done with Ryan.
Ienter quietly, calming the raging storm within me with a breath. It feels like it’s been an eternity since I last saw him, not a mere week. He’s at the window behind my desk chair, forehead pressed against the glass, a forearm braced overhead.
It’s as if he’s contemplating the world, the weight of it unevenly spread across those broad shoulders of his. His careless fall of dark blond hair feathers sideways. I want to sink my fingers into it and pull. I want to drag him around by it. Ruin any traces of the styling he’s clearly spent time on before coming here. The inky black of the spider etched onto the nape of his neck is meant to be a warning, but it’s where I want to kiss him first.
Sliding up behind him, I do exactly as I promised, expecting him to deliver. For thirty minutes, he’s mine. For thirty minutes, hesaidhe’d be mine. So what if I’m a little early? The extra minutes are mine, too. I wrap my arms around his waist. He leans back, resting against my firm body, threading his fingers into mine. I don’t flinch, but I do freeze, the hyperawareness seeping in. He didn’t ask if he could touch me like that, but I’m not getting the screaming sensation that usually comes when someone makes unauthorized contact with my skin. I don’t focus on it. I want Ryan to touch me, but my brain might not be able to tolerate it for long.
Thankfully, I’m distracted enough. Something deep and primal stirs. Ryan’s fucking mine, and his body knows it.
My lips find the spider, pressing there, lightly sucking. I can’t wait to mark him as I please. I try to spin him around, but he refuses, putting strength behind his muscles, locking them into place. “Wait.”
All my internal warning bells sound. Something is very fucking wrong. It takes every ounce of control I possess not to flip him around anyway.
“You said anything I want, right? In exchange, I give you me, my freedom, and you give me anything?”
“That’s what I said. Marry me, and I’ll give you everything.”
“What if what I want includes protection for my brother?”
Protection for his brother? I didn’t account for his brother. I know he has a brother and a sister because of the information I’ve had pulled on him, but I didn’t do a deep dive done into them. I get brother bonds because of Luke, but adding another person to the mix is complicated. Instead of one person watching my life, I’d have two.
“He doesn’t have to live with us, or anything. He probably wouldn’t want to,” he says, sensing my hesitation. “He’d just need, I dunno, some of your fancy guards or something.”
“My protection is conditional. If he spread information about what we do here, he’d be subject to our justice system.”
Ryan shakes his head. “I understand, but I don’t want him to know about this anyway. I’m going to lie. Spin a story that I met a handsome business tycoon and fell in love.”
I press a smile against his spider, thinking of my own meet-cute about us I’ve been spinning to Patrick.
“Alright, then. I promise to protect him as I will you. Is that ayes? You’ll marry me?”
“No.”
“Ryan,” I growl.
“I’m still thinking about it, but I want the protection to start now.”
“I’ve had to do a lot, now you’re asking for more, and you told me to go fuck myself.”
“I’m sorry about that. It was uncalled for, but you were being kind of a dick.”
“You don’t know how to apologize, do you?” It would be better if he were on his knees, but adrenaline’s racing through me, and my heart’s pounding its way out of my ribcage. Something scared him into this action, and I want to know what it was so I can end it.
“I’ll learn,” he promises. “Okay, I’m going to turn around now—don’t go off the deep end.”
I don’t wait, spinning him, plastering him against the glass. His face is … is swollen and bruised and cut. He’s missing his front tooth. He’s a hockey player, so it could be easily written off as something that happened in practice.
But this didn’t happen in practice.
“Who did this to you?” My voice is low and dangerous.
“I have an appointment on Monday to get the tooth fixed. It’s a wonder I’ve gone this long with all my teeth?—”
“I don’t care about the fucking tooth.” My palm slaps the glass beside his head. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to get his attention. “I want names, I want addresses, I want their fucking blood.”
He exhales. “No.”
