Chapter 4 #2
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he likes what he sees, but I swallow it back, in disbelief that my addled brain would even come up with a thought like that. My heart knocks against my ribs as he steps in, eliminating all of my personal space.
He reaches out before I can stop him or pull away.
He runs the pad of his thumb down my cheek, over my jawline.
His touch is rough and abrasive against my tender skin, and a flurry of goosebumps spikes my arms. I gasp again, the only sound it seems I’m capable of making, as his hand grips my throat possessively.
I can feel my pulse point jumping against his roughened palm.
He lets out a chuckle that is completely unexpected, deep and rich, like fragrant smoke curling around me. I inhale the sharp, masculine scent of him, something spicy and sharp, and below that, the scent of man, rough and raw. Oil, the open wind, the musk of his sweat dampened skin. All male.
It should be repulsive, or at the very least, terrifying, but I find myself leaning into his touch, my nipples hardening painfully in my dress, a rush of bizarre moisture pooling at my thighs. I rub my legs together, trying to still the ache.
Wraith grins like he tracked my every animalistic movement. My face heats up painfully, the heat scorching my cheeks.
What is wrong with me? I’ve never had a reaction like this before, and I’ve been around rough men my whole life. I don’t have a thing for bad boys. I don’t have a thing for anyone. I’ve never even been allowed on a date before, not that he has to know it, smug bastard that he is.
“Don’t worry. I promise I don’t have any warts on my dick, and it’s definitely enough to fill you up and make you writhe with pleasure. I promise, sweetheart, you’ll enjoy every single second.”
I let out an undignified gasp and open my mouth to tell him off, but before I can, his hand sweeps around to the back of my neck, clutching me firmly just below my nape. I’m sure he can feel that I’m sweating, and it only increases my discomfort.
“The thing is, darlin’,” Wraith purrs in that smoky tone of his, a tone that while dark and deep, is flavored by humor like a rich spice that makes it so much more enjoyable.
“I don’t have any flowery words. I know that neither of us wanted this, and I guess we’ll just have to make the best of it.
We’ll either make it work, or we won’t. I might look rough and be a real bastard.
I’ve been told I can be annoying as fuck.
You’ll probably want to kill me before we’ve spent an entire day together.
” He lets his gaze linger over my body and I feel his burning eyes like a heated caress.
“The thing is… I’ve found that life is much more pleasurable when you’re actually trying to live it. ”
“How would you know?” I snap past the sudden dryness in my mouth. “It’s not like you’ve ever died before. You wouldn’t know what the other side is like. Maybe being dead is better than this.” I wave my hand in the air to indicate him.
My words are harsh and biting, full of bitterness, not like me at all.
I’m ashamed of myself for lashing out in frustration, but also because I don’t like what his proximity is doing to me, how it makes my brain mush and turns my body into an animalistic thing I don’t recognize.
Even still, I want to snatch those words out of the air and ram them back into my mouth, swallow them back down my throat, but to my surprise, his lips turn up in amusement.
“Damn! You’re something. A fighter. Good.
I like that. It makes things more interesting when they have a little backbone.
The last thing that I need is to fuck a woman who’s little more than a limp noodle.
I like when they have more spirit than that.
” He winks at me before he releases my neck and backs off a step.
My heart still hammers just as hard, even though there’s a foot of distance, a safe space, between us again.
“And by the way, I’ve just about died twice.
Once when I was nine and I OD’d on cocaine my mom had lying around.
The second time, I was shot up three times.
Just about bled out. Courtesy of our VP, a man I now consider a close friend as well as a fellow brother. ”
My mind whirls. I picture a man, one of the two massive monsters sitting in the front row at the ceremony, their dainty women beside them.
There was their Prez, a man I met before at the shower, right at the end.
The man beside him was likely their VP. He had dark hair cropped short on the sides, the long part slicked back.
He was easily as big as their Prez, who has to be six and a half feet tall and I remember wondering, in the middle of the ceremony, what the hell these men ate that they were bigger than even my own brothers.
“Your own… a member of your own club?” I stammer, blinking up at him stupidly. I’d heard these men didn’t treat their women like my father’s men did, even my own brothers, but I thought they were a more cohesive unit than that.
Wraith shrugs. “Might have had it coming. And he wasn’t my brother at the time.
More like the exact opposite. Mortal enemies and all that.
The bastard was good enough to save my life after.
Got those bullets pulled out and sent my ass to rehab.
Steel let me prospect with the club after.
It was the best thing that ever happened to me.
So I can say, now, that I’ve lived on both sides, life is definitely more fun on the side of the living.
Not on the trying to die.” He winks at me again and something dark and wicked coils in my belly.
“Oh, and by the way, we’re not all big and scary.
Big maybe. Okay, maybe scary too, but just so you know, I barfed at least four times before that dumbass ceremony. ”
He turns on his heel and his rich, melodic laughter trails down the hallway after him.
It takes me more than a few minutes to unglue my shoes from the floor, break whatever spell he just put over me, and head back to the hall.
Not because I’m going to enjoy a single moment of this, like he hinted at. No, I force my feet back because it’s the only option that I have.