Page 5 of Bad Blood Alpha

He pulled her closer to him, and she felt a rumble of laughter in his chest.

Bastard.

This was such a mistake. She’d completely lost control of the situation, but she had to see this through. She needed him—and if he was attracted to her, it would make things easier.

Wouldn’t it?

He let his hand drift down to the curve of her butt, then up to the back of her neck. “Knives up both sleeves,” he went on in that same low, hypnotic voice. “One down your back. And those pretty sticks in your hair aren’t just ornamental. They’re sharpened and weighted for throwing.”

Good catch. Most people didn’t notice that.

“I’m just wondering where you keep the vial of poison.” He let go of her hand and his fingertips drifted across the top of her bustier. “I’m thinking…here.” They moved down to rest just above her cleavage, warm and tantalizing. Her nipples immediately went hard.

Not poison. There was a tiny vial of knockout drops in there—but hey, close enough. Way too close, as a matter of fact. She was overwhelmed by his heat and his presence. Intoxicated and suffocated.

It was unnerving how well he had her pegged, in just two minutes. Like he understood the way her mind worked.

Breathe, Kira, she told herself. She wasn’t some panting human schoolgirl. She’d taken down some of the worst shifter criminals in the world. Some with the knowledge of the Shifter Council, some without.

Of course, some people believed Flynn was more dangerous than any of them. Paranoid, they said. Crazy. Terrifying. Able to deal out death without a hint of remorse—if he felt it was warranted.

Despite his reputation, she hadn’t expected him to have such an intense presence. He wasn’t the boy that she remembered. She’d always believed she could handle any man, but she suddenly didn’t know if she could handle this one.

“So,” he said, his breath warm in her ear. “What do you want?”

“A dance,” she answered.

He shook his head fractionally. “You want more.”

She did. She wanted everything from him—but now wasn’t the time. She’d only intended to meet him, to try to figure out what kind of man he was now. She’d never intended to get this close. But she couldn’t seem to pull away.

His warm fingers stroked the back of her neck, making her muscles melt. His lips drifted down her temple, skimmed across her cheekbone. She turned her head, lips parted, and his mouth brushed hers.

A jolt of electricity surged through her. Holy hell.

Flynn pulled back, staring at her, opening his mouth to speak. Then his eyes focused on something below them, on the main floor of the club.

“Dammit.”

She twisted around to look, and immediately saw them. Four men moving purposefully through the crowd, each taking a different quadrant. They were dressed in leather, like bikers, and they weren’t here for a good time.

They were looking for someone. And they were packing, every last one of them.

As if they could feel her and Flynn watching, the four men all stopped at once and looked up, moving in eerie synchronization. As she watched, one’s eyes flashed orange-yellow.

Hellhound.

One of the other men spoke into his wristwatch. She could read his lips. “I’ve got her. Left balcony, with the big guy.”

And then all hell broke loose.