Chapter 7
“Fuck,” I snarled, slamming the door behind me. In moments, I was at her side, hoisting her up. There was no sign of Elias. Her weight settled in my arms, almost unnoticeable. I placed her on the couch and reached to take her pulse. It thrummed weakly under my fingertips.
She’d just lost consciousness. My shoulders relaxed, and I tucked a bit of damp hair that had fallen across her cheek behind her ear as gently as I could.
How long had she been on the run? She must have been exhausted.
Taking advantage of her unconsciousness, I studied her.
Her cheekbones were high and prominent, her expressive lips tipped downward in a perpetual frown, and a divot formed in the middle of her eyebrows from always thinking. Striking and sexy, the Omega—
I inhaled more of her sweet cookie scent.
It was especially potent lower on her body.
Following my nose, I found myself kneeling by her legs, where they slightly parted.
My hand was on her knee before I could think, tugging her wider and exposing her pink, wet flesh.
A tuft of hair adorned the top, not hindering my view of the nestled pink clit.
My mouth wouldn’t stop watering. A shiver wracked my frame.
I shouldn’t . . . but she smells so good.
I pressed my nose to her wet, slick-covered sex, and a shiver rippled up my back. My tongue glided up her recently-fucked pussy.
She didn’t react.
Because she was sleeping.
I yanked myself away from her pussy, alarmed at myself. What was I doing? I was no better than Jennifer—
Stop with that. I gritted my teeth and unzipped her jacket to make her more comfortable.
She wasn’t wearing anything underneath other than a bra. I removed the sleeve and found a piece of cotton wrapped around her bicep . . . and blood?
Carefully, I unwound it.
My tongue stuck to the top of my mouth. Her raw flesh was easy to see through the cut. The slice had been deep.
Fuck, she was bleeding, and here I was, feasting on her. I pressed the fabric on her arm, holding it to staunch the bleeding.
I ripped my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Elias, since he tended to answer without fail.
“What?” he growled.
“She passed out.”
The line went dead, and I tossed my phone onto the ground. I was already tugging the other sleeve of the jacket.
I smoothed my palm down her arm, and just as quickly, removed it, leaning back in the chair I’d dragged closer to the couch.
Instinct drove me to touch her, and I let myself have the brief pleasure of giving in.
Sinclair had already cleaned the cut and threaded the split sides of her flesh together.
Sinclair was checking her vitals while I fought not to touch and caress. I was so close to sliding my cock inside her.
And if I fucked her, what if I couldn’t stop wanting to keep her?
Exhaling, I pulled away, setting my tingling palm on my thigh. Her sweet cookie scent played along my senses, making me hard as a rock. I adjusted myself, clearing my throat.
Sinclair snorted.
“Stiffy, eh?” It wasn’t a question.
I raised an eyebrow, pointedly focusing on the bulge under his zipper. His smile only widened, and he tugged the blanket I’d covered her with until her chest was bare, displaying half her body.
I’d seen countless breasts, different shapes, sizes, everything out there .
. . Before the place was big enough, I was tasked with selecting women to work for The Bordello.
Beauty was meaningless to me, something fleeting.
Objectively, Briar Rivera had features too angular to quantify as a great beauty in this day and age, yet she pulled me in.
All her features put together created a striking visual, beautiful in its sharpness.
“You’re going to start drooling.”
“Fuck off.” I shoved Sinclair’s shoulder, and his cackle only pissed me off more. As much as he was making fun of me, he kept touching her, too. A little graze of her arm, or her cheek—he was straight-up fiddling, and Sinclair wasn’t someone who shifted around that way.
He had just as severe a reaction as I did.
“She’s a beauty,” Sinclair mused, running his fingertips down the side of her neck where her Scent Gland was. Her pheromones were especially potent there. I would have claimed her there if—
There was no point in thinking about it.
Sinclair stopped shy of the swell of her breast. His breathing had increased a notch, or was it mine? I found myself leaning forward—anticipating.
He trailed his fingertips up to her pebbled nipple, leaving goose bumps behind.
“You want a taste?” Sinclair’s husky tone seethed with his intention. He leaned down, nestling his nose against her Scent Gland, and drew in a breath. I sat frozen while he grazed the spot with his teeth. Teasing fate, as always.
“Sin,” I snapped.
He groaned.
“You know you want her.”
No shit. I didn’t say anything, and he inhaled into her neck and exhaled.
She groaned, stretching her neck to the side, as if she were asking for more. I clamped my hands together.
He shivered and rose, hand cupping the front of his jeans.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard,” he muttered.
“Checks out.” I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t need to.
We both knew what she was to us. Our greatest temptation and weakness rolled into a pain-in-the-ass bundle.
The way she looked at us, with barely restrained rage, did something to me.
I could tell she wanted to unleash her anger, but her survival instinct kept her malleable. “Who shot her?” I couldn’t help muse.
“None of our business,” Sinclair warned, giving me a look. “We just have to get her out of the country and out of our lives.”
I didn’t bother retorting. Between the two of us, I had more of a handle on myself than he did, than either of them. Especially Sinclair, who tended to be rash and illogical.
“In the meantime, I’m going to smell her as much as I want.” He smirked. “Get her out of my bloody system.”
Even that seemed a risk. But since she was already with us, and it was temporary . . .
There were many ways this could go wrong. I combed my fingers through my hair. How could they not see how utterly fucked we were?
We were making excuses already.
Sinclair reached up to check the IV he’d hooked up to her.
The door swung open, and I tensed, even though the only one it could possibly be was Elias. No one else was allowed up to our loft.
“We have the blood,” he said, carrying a cooler inside. Loren, one of the dancers, was doing her residency at a hospital. Elias thumped the cooler on Sinclair’s lap, and he was quick to rifle through it.
“Who knew me getting beaten up all the time would come in handy?”
I eyed Sin. He was never one to mention where we’d come from; further than that, he never spoke about that time.
Elias met my gaze. After two seconds, I returned to Briar. To every exposed line of her body. From the top of her messy hair, down the curve of her breast, to the jutting ribs.
“Why is she so malnourished?”
Sinclair settled into switching out the IV with universal blood.
His mouth thinned. “That’s why she should have an Alpha to look after her.” He tensed as if he hadn’t meant to speak the words.
“It could have been us,” Sinclair said, sighing and shaking his head in a mocking way. “Just like Kyan’s dead stick-up-his-ass heart wanted.”
“Keep it up,” I warned, “and I’ll lock your bank card.”
His eyes narrowed. “You do that, and I’ll piss on you.”
“Enough, you two,” Elias bit out, high-strung. Opposite to his usual unflappable demeanor.
I eyed the unconscious female.
The risk of having an Omega would magnify our erraticism tenfold.
We couldn’t afford to have a woman permanently.
But one thing I could do for her was get her out of the States, just as she asked.
I ran my hand over my nape. “I’ll contact Phantom about getting forgeries.” I pried myself off the seat. Sitting here, watching her, would only mess with my head.
I could admit to craving her, but I had no delusions about keeping her.