Page 8 of In the Dark

JASMINA RUIZ STOOD THERE in her pretty blue dress and licked her lips before standing tall and cracking her neck like she needed to prepare herself for a night with me. It was a movement I cataloged because she looked like a divine being sent from the heavens. Or a demon who’d climbed up from the pits of hell. I’d decide which one once I was deep enough inside her to stop breathing.

“Call someone to come get us.”

I pushed a few buttons on my watch. “Done.”

“And how should we get out of here?”

I smiled because, damn, she was as bored as I was. She wanted a thrill as much as I did. I could see it in her eyes.

I’d been bored to the point of violence all night until I saw her. She was a viper in soft fabric, getting handled by that pathetic excuse for a man. Now, I couldn’t look away even if she was forbidden and a lethal line I shouldn’t cross. My brother would have a fucking aneurysm if he saw this, but one night off when normally I was fully on wouldn’t kill us.

I yanked her back into the elevator but only took her to the third floor—I always knew the layout of a building before we were in it. We walked through a few hallways, and I saw what I was looking for: a side entrance that led to the metal staircase outside.

Was I going to run down a rusted, skeletal fire escape in a dark New York alley for a girl?

Yeah, I was. And I didn’t give a single flying fuck.

“You good?” I asked her before we stepped onto it. She rolled her eyes, shoving me forward. She didn’t hesitate to follow me either. But once we were halfway down, we perched on the square iron platform, suspended in the dark between the brick walls with the wet pavement below us.

She wrung her small, manicured hands together, the diamonds on her fingers catching the dim amber glow of a distant streetlamp.

I wanted to break that tension. I reached out, winding a stray brunette curl around my finger. “Nervous?” I murmured.

She shushed me with a sharp, angry hiss, but I just dipped my head, capturing her full lips again. I was becoming an addict. They were plump, bruised from the havoc I’d already wreaked, and tasted like expensive champagne and rebellion. She was receptive, her body winding up like a tight spring even as my touch seemed to anchor her. Her hands flew to my hair, and I didn’t think—I immediately gripped her thighs and hoisted her up.

The iron groaned under our weight as I pinned her against the cold wall. From this angle, I had a perfect view of the fast rise and fall of her chest, her cleavage spilling over the top of that dress. I considered ripping the silk away right there. I needed a fix. I needed to see every inch of the skin I was about to ruin.

She whimpered, wrapping her legs around my waist and letting her hands travel with a frantic, heat-blinded mission toward my belt buckle.

Fuck.

I couldn’t screw her on the side of the building.

“Wait,” I growled, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head against the brick. “The car will be here in minutes.”

She pouted, her eyes dark with a wild, unbridled hunger. “A few minutes too long.”

I hummed, a vibration that started in my chest and ended against her skin. I slid my thigh upward, positioning it hard between her legs. I loved the sound of her gasping, her eyes widening as she felt the pressure. “Callahan.” The sound of my name on her lips was a perfect song to my ears.

“Go on and ride it if you want, Viper. Take what you need tonight. This is about you. Not the family. Not duty. Just you.”

Her eyes searched mine, looking for a lie, but she wouldn’t find one. I hiked her upper leg higher, my hand trailing past the leather of her thigh holster.

God, I loved a woman who carried.

Then, I slipped under her skirt and ripped the scrap of her panties from her body. She didn’t even protest. She rocked against my hand as I found her, slick and burning, letting out a jagged moan.

Below us, the heavy metal door leading into the gala opened. Voices drifted up.

“Be quiet, or they’ll get a show, and then I’ll have to kill them for watching.”

She was quiet for about ten seconds, rocking against me until the people disappeared back inside. Then she whispered, almost begging, “I need more.”

Why did I feel like I couldn’t deny her? Where the fuck was the SUV? My tone was almost pleading as I softly reminded her, “We’re in a damn alley, Jas.”

I was losing control of the situation.

“I don’t care.” She glared at me as she yanked a wrist free. I didn’t fight her. Maybe I should have. But it was a losing battle. My body wanted her just as hers wanted mine.