Chapter 3 #3
“More than good,” Mal barks out, curling his hands into fists. “Pure. And my only goddamn family. The amount of holes I'm going to drill into the person who took her…” he trails off, grinning maniacally when Nick goes pale and shakes, setting the glasses down. “Wonderful hospitality.”
And with that, Malic sits at the bar beside Wilder, quietly discussing something as Nick backs away like a cornered animal.
I swear his eyeballs nearly pop out of their sockets and roll on the floor when Malic eyes him again with that smile.
Ugh. Shivers roll through me. There’s something about that grin that sets goosebumps rising across my flesh.
Good goosebumps? Bad goosebumps? I haven’t decided.
Perhaps it's the booze talking. Or the cobwebs collecting in my lady bits.
Either way, this man is affecting me. More than anyone has in a very long time.
I can’t suppress my smile when Nick scurries out from behind the bar without fulfilling the round of drinks Malic ordered for everyone.
Including me. Not that I need anymore. But still.
Suspiciously, Nick heads toward the same dark hallway Earl left through earlier.
A door slams. Footsteps echo from somewhere, and then, he's gone. Coward. He’s probably running off to clean the piss from his pants.
Or maybe he’s calling someone to let them know Malic is onto them.
Either way, I need to follow the slimy fuck and get some answers from him. Too bad I don’t have access to wherever he went. Fuck. I should get another drink and mind my own business. I have a case in this town, anyway.
But what if it’s all connected?
Something strange settles heavy in my gut. This entire place reeks of corruption, and something beyond strange is happening. In this bar. In this fucking town. But what? I don't fucking know. Something stinks, though. And well, I’m going to sniff it out.
I make mental notes of all the chaos I've collected after having two drinks. That's all it took to interest me. How pathetic. I want to go all detective and start asking questions, but if I'm supposed to live here soon, I can't draw that much attention to myself.
Whatever.
I quickly text Jonathan through our secured messages and relay the information. If it's pertinent to the future, then so be it.
“Need another?”
My gaze snaps to Malic, suddenly sitting close to me.
When did that happen? And where the fuck did Wilder go?
He leans his angelic face, dimples out in full force, on the palm of his hand eyeing me with hearts in his eyes.
Fuck. He can’t look at me like that. It’s ridiculously illegal, and I’m too tipsy to stop myself.
Down girl.
“You need a bell,” I huff sarcastically, pushing my glass away.
If I drink another, then I’ll do something I regret.
Or not-so-regret? I haven’t decided. “And no, I'm good.” I should get up and leave.
I shouldn't count the freckles dotting his nose and forehead, or recognize the fact that he's barely blinked. Is that even possible? Why aren’t his long, luscious eyelashes moving?
Does his eyeball hurt with all that air?
Wait, what am I thinking?
Shit. I shake my head, catching myself staring again. Walk away! Don't fall deep into his crystal blue eyes that look like the ocean dancing in the sunshine. And nope. It’s confirmed. The man isn't blinking. I kind of want to poke his eyes, but I refrain from the impulse, much to his amusement.
He chuckles, taking my glass and inspecting the dribbles at the bottom. Leaning close, he sniffs the contents and grins more.
“Stagg. That's high-class. Top shelf. High proof. And I bet it's warming your belly right now.” His eyes linger on my abdomen as he sizes me up.
Well, that's very forward of him. But also, is it hot in here? God, I'm playing with fire and about to be burned. But like, it doesn't feel like a bad thing.
For far too long, I’ve played it on the safe side, barely toeing the line. I’m a good soldier for Veritas, sticking with the rules presented to us. As a teenager, I broke every rule there was. Sneaking out, risking my neck to see the boys I loved.
But right now? Fuck. Right now, I want to break every damn rule in the book to satisfy the fire under my flesh, begging me to extinguish it with this massive man beside me staring at me like no man should.
I’m so fucked.
Malic eyes my glass with renewed interest, licking his lips as he moves the small droplets of liquid at the bottom.
“It was a bad day. Needed to take the edge off.”
Every breath in my lungs pushes out the second Malic lifts my glass above his parted lips, dumping the dribbles and backwash into his mouth, getting every last drop. It shouldn't look so sexy to see his tongue swipe along his bottom lip, making sure he gets it all.
Is this his version of flirting? Fuck. I think he's a psychopath. But also. It's working.
What does that say about me?
Malic carefully sets my glass back on the bartop with a satisfied hum.
Speaking of hums, I swear something vibrates straight through me the moment his gaze reconnects with mine.
I’m no longer staring into the vast ocean, dancing in the sunshine.
Nope. I’m gazing into the lust-filled eyes of a man who could probably break me in half.
“Why was it so bad?” he asks innocently as the corner of his lips tilts into a salacious smile filled to the brim with so much heat, a sweat breaks out across my flesh.
Well, until I remember why I’m having such a rough day.
Oh, I don’t know, because I landed here in Greenwood against my damn will, where my stupid uncle took me to my own grave and forced me to stare into the eyes of my name.
Oh, and then, he told me I would go to college here and parade around undercover as a man.
Meaning, I need to cut my hair, bind my breasts, and wear baggy clothes.
Just another day of undercover work.
Malic moves impossibly closer, brushing his arm against mine. My body lights up like a damn firework erupting and heating my flesh.
Bad day? What bad day?
The heat of his stare, watching my every move, has me wishing for another drink. Come on, Nick. Come back and refill my empty glass that I don’t really need refilled—the same glass that Malic made out with and took like he owned it.
Like he owned me.
I lick my lips, attempting to ignore the heat brewing between us. “Just a bad day.” I shrug it off because I can’t give details to him.
“That’s a shame,” he mutters in a low tone, brushing against my arm again. “What could make your day better?
Every hair on my body stands on end with anticipation. My muscles lock up, and my breaths freeze in my lungs as Malic touches me again and again. His warm fingers work up and down my jean-clad thigh. I swear tingles erupt under his heated touch, getting closer and closer to the promise land.
Is this how it feels to be picked up at a bar? The rush of knowing that in two point five seconds, this stranger will be inside you? Excitement races through my veins, and the rules of Veritas tick off in my brain.
Yeah, I think I’m about to take a walk–or fuck–into the wild side.
“There might be something,” I basically croak, trying to talk through the lump lodged in my throat.
“Well, I…” Malic trails off when a commotion erupts behind us and two men start throwing punches, stumbling from their booth and heading in our direction.
My entire body tenses the more they punch and the more blood rushes from their noses and split lips.
The urge to jump in and break them apart has me eager to leave my seat.
But I don’t have to.
For the first time in almost five years, someone fights for me.
Malic loses the lust in his eyes and stands tall at my side, cursing at the idiots coming our way. Malic growls, stepping into the line of danger when they run into the barstools beside me. Or would have, if Malic hadn’t been guarding me with his life.
“Back the fuck up!” he roars, pushing the two men to their asses as the security guard rushes over. “Don’t fucking touch her or come near her again. Or you’ll have me to fucking deal with,” he growls again, standing above the bloodied men.
“M-Malic! We’re sorry,” one of the men quivers, staring at Malic with wide eyes before they’re carted off and booted out of the bar.
Jesus.
Don’t fucking touch her. His words ring in my mind when he comes to stand beside me again, without missing a damn beat. His elbow leans on the bar, and he leans in close again–a breath away. A kiss away. A…
Well, fuck.
He hypnotized me again with the lust twinkling in his eyes. Maybe he sees the effect his protection has on me. Or maybe he wants to make my day better. Whatever it is, my body is on board and possibly my mind, too.
“That was close,” I breathe, licking my lips again.
“It was,” Malic mutters, watching my every movement again.
More sounds happen around us, filling the bar with yells and claps. But we don’t bother to take our eyes off each other.
“So, you’ve had a hard day,” he begins, leaning in more until his face is a millimeter from mine again. “I could offer to make it better.”
I lean my head on my palm, watching when his sparkly blue eyes find mine.
“What exactly are you offering?” I know exactly what he’s offering, because my body buzzes with the need to let him fulfill that promise.
But it strikes me odd that a man who was so hellbent on finding his sister’s whereabouts would all of a sudden want to take me back to his place and get down and dirty.
But the sizzling chemistry between us is undeniable.
I’ve never met another person alive who ignites something so deep inside me like the three boys I loved before.
This feeling, though? It’s more intense.
Like he belongs to me and I to him. But that’s silly right?
This is just my body betraying me in the worst possible way after a sexual drought. Right?
The grin that stretches across his face has goosebumps spreading across my flesh again.
“A ride?” He lifts a suggestive brow.
“A ride to where?” I ask as innocently as possible.
He leans in further until the warmth of his breath brushes down the skin of my throat. The smell of his cologne ignites my senses. Heat boils in my stomach, growing hotter and hotter until sweat trickles down my back.
Fuck.
I've never had this reaction to anyone before. Let alone a probable psycho who will eat me alive. I guess this is what I asked for, though, right?
Numbness. Forgetting. Setting me on fire. Breaking the rules.
“If you follow me, I'll show you,” he murmurs in my ear as his lips brush against my skin, lingering for far longer than necessary.
Pulling back, he watches my dazed expression with satisfaction. And then, he holds out his hand, suspending it in the air.
He's giving me a choice.
Walk away from his offer or stay and get fucked.