Chapter 2 #2
Axel's expression flickered at pretty boys. Something complicated moved behind his eyes.
He poured whiskey, handed me a glass. Our fingers brushed during the exchange. Neither of us pulled away.
"You need to know what you've stepped into." He knocked back his drink in one motion, throat working. "Devil's Dust is trying to expand. Take territory, establish new revenue streams. Some of those streams..." His jaw tightened. "Let's just say Phoenix has lines we won't cross."
"What kind of lines?"
"The kind that involve trafficking people." The words came out hard as bullets. "Girls. Kids. Whatever pays. Viper has no code, no honor. Just money and power."
"And Phoenix is different?"
His eyes met mine. "We're not saints. But we don't hurt innocents. Don't profit from misery." He set down his glass. "We protect our own."
"I'm not yours."
He moved then. Fast enough to make me gasp. Suddenly I was caged against his desk, his hands bracketing my hips, his body a wall of heat inches from mine.
"You became mine the second you put your hands on me in that parking lot." His voice had gone rough. Raw. "The moment you risked yourself for a stranger."
"That's not how—"
"How it works?" His thumb traced my jaw, feather-light. "Maybe not in your world. But in mine, debts matter. Protection matters." His eyes dropped to my mouth. "And whether you like it or not, violet, you're under my protection now."
My heart was hammering. This close, I could see gold flecks in his grey eyes. Feel the controlled tension in his body, like a wire stretched to breaking.
"I don't need protection."
"No?" His other hand found my hip, thumb stroking through denim. "Then why are you shaking?"
I was. Fine tremors I couldn't control. But not from fear.
"Axel—"
"I should let you go." His forehead dropped to mine, breath warm against my lips. "Should walk away. Should—"
"Should what?"
"Shouldn't do this."
"Do wh—"
His mouth crashed into mine.
Nothing gentle about it. Nothing tentative.
Just hunger—raw and desperate and devastating.
His hands fisted in my hair, angling my head where he wanted it.
I opened for him without thinking, tasting whiskey and need.
My fingers found his chest, felt his heart slamming against his ribs as hard as mine.
He kissed like a man who'd been starving. Like I was water in a desert, air after drowning. Like he'd been fighting this for three days and had finally, catastrophically, lost.
I kissed him back the same way.
His hands slid down my back, gripped my hips, lifted me onto the desk like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, pulling him closer, and the sound he made—low and broken and desperate—sent electricity down my spine.
"Kai." My name on his lips, rough as gravel. "Fuck."
"Don't stop."
"We should—"
"Don't. Stop."
He groaned and kissed me again, deeper this time. His hands were everywhere—my hair, my jaw, sliding under my shirt to find bare skin. I arched into his touch, let my own hands explore the planes of his chest, the rigidness of his abs.
Someone cleared their throat.
We broke apart, breathing ragged. A man stood in the doorway—massive, dark-skinned, with a shaved head and the calm presence of someone who'd survived everything the world could throw at him. President patch on his cut.
"Hawk." Axel's voice was wrecked. He didn't step back, didn't remove his hands from my waist. "This is Kai."
"The guardian angel." Hawk's assessment missed nothing—the swollen lips, the mussed hair, the way Axel's body still curved protectively around mine. "Church is ready when you are, brother."
He left without another word. Axel finally stepped back, and the loss of his heat made me shiver.
"What's Church?"
"Meeting. Officers only." His thumb touched his lower lip, and satisfaction flared in his eyes when mine tracked the movement. "Need to brief them on Devil's Dust. Make your protection official."
"I haven't agreed to anything."
"No?" He smiled then—dangerous, knowing. "Your bike's in our garage. You're sitting on my desk. You just kissed me back like your life depended on it."
Heat flooded my face.
"That was—"
"Perfect." He headed for the door. "Make yourself comfortable. This won't take long."
"And then?"
He paused, looked back over his shoulder. Something vulnerable flickered beneath the intensity. "Then we figure out what happens next. Together."
He left. I sat on his desk for a long moment, touching lips that still tingled, heart still racing.
Through the walls, I heard voices. My name. Protection. Retaliation. War.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
You're going to pay for what you did. —Slash
A photo attached. My apartment building. My window circled in red. My hands didn't shake. I screenshotted it, then typed back: Come try it.
The door opened. Axel took one look at my face, at the phone in my hand. "What is it?"
I showed him. Watched his expression go cold. Not angry—lethal. The look of a man planning violence with surgical precision. "You're staying here tonight."
I thought about arguing. About independence, about not needing a man to protect me, about all the reasons this was a terrible idea. Then I thought about that kiss. About the way he'd said together.
"Okay."
Something eased in his expression. He crossed the room, cupped my face in his hands, pressed his forehead to mine.
"I've got you," he murmured. "You're not alone anymore." I'd been alone for so long I'd forgotten what the alternative felt like.
I had no idea how much I'd need that promise before dawn.