Fuck.
My hand curled tighter to her cheek, letting the guilt—my duty—become my restraint. “I don’t even know you . . . but there’s just something . . . something that got under my skin the second I saw you back in L.A. Know you feel it, too, Mia. But it doesn’t matter that it’s there. It doesn’t change one fucking thing. It doesn’t change who I am.”
Mia’s voice came at me like a song, low and intense and cutting to the quick. “I can’t help but wonder why you’re here. After that night, how could you be standing in front of me all the way across the country? I don’t believe in a coincidence that big.”
Rough laughter crawled up my throat. “Don’t need to count it a coincidence. We have friends that run the same circles. Your brother asked for me. We were bound to meet again.”
“And maybe there is a reason for that,” she challenged.
“And maybe that only reason is for me to be reminded of what I can’t have.”
Fuck.
What the hell was I doing? Letting this shit spill from my mouth?
A scourge I would forever suffer.
She detangled herself from me, turning away, the girl little more than a silhouette and seduction. She moved back for the blank canvas, her hips swaying, whipping up a lust-inducing breeze.
Delicious.
Decadent.
My mouth watered, urges hitting me to lick her up and down.
She peeked at me from over her bare shoulder. “I think if you asked nicely enough, you could.”
Motherfuck. I was right.
This girl was nothing but temptation.
Wicked, perfect sin.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for, princess.”
She let go of a soft, cynical laugh. “I’m no princess, Leif.”
No rational thought remaining, I edged up behind her like I had some kind of right.
Pretending in that singular second that I wasn’t committing a thousand wrongs.
Consequences be damned, I leaned in and murmured at her ear, “You’re right. You’re an angel. So sweet you’re unreal.”
My fingertips grazed her hip.
A shock raced up my arm.
Need and lust and gluttony.
I breathed her in.
Cocoa and cream.
She peeked back at me, everything in her demeanor shifting in a flash.
Sadness flooding in.
“Then why am I the one being condemned?”
Those eyes were wide. Flush with vulnerability.
Something ferocious clawed through my stomach, chest tightening as I was slammed with the same thing as I had been that first night.
Her fear.
My fingers found their way into the drape of her dark, dark hair. I weaved them all the way in to tickle along the crease of her neck.
She sighed a needy sound, her head dropping that way, like she was granting me the keys to a land that I could never conquer.
Still, I leaned in and inhaled deep. My words were a growl as unchained possessiveness singed my senses. “And who is condemning you? Who hurt you, Mia? Your brother said you’d been through hell and back.”
Considering I was already headed there myself, I might as well take down a bastard or two on my way.
“I’m pretty sure the last thing you want to hear are my problems.”
“Try me,” I grunted.
Needed to know. This twisted protectiveness rising up. The feeling that I wanted to cover her whole.
“Why, so you can use it against me?”
“No. So, I can know what the fuck it was your brother was implying. Don’t like being kept in the dark.”
So, I could know exactly who was going to die. Just like I’d told her that night, I’d be glad to hunt the motherfucker down.
She laughed a disbelieving sound. “I’m not close to being your problem.”
My mouth was at her ear. “You feel like a problem to me.”
Awareness spun.
Need and possession. Muscles twitching with the demand to make her mine. To get lost in her skin and this body and those eyes.
Knew I wouldn’t make it back if I did.
It didn’t change a thing because I was pressing her. “Tell me.”
She shivered.
“Tell me, princess, what’s so bad in your life that your brother thinks he needs to lock you up in his castle?” The words came out like blades, like the anger didn’t know where else to go.
She whirled on me.
Pissed.
I seemed to have that effect on people.
“Fine,” she spat. “You want to know what happened? My best friend was murdered. And I had to stand there and watch it. Helpless. Horrified. The whole time wondering if he was going to turn that gun on me. That’s what happened.”
Fuck.
Rage grated my teeth. “Who? Tell me goddamn who. Just give me a name.”
She blew out a cynical breath. “If I had a name, things would be a whole lot easier, wouldn’t they? I wouldn’t be running scared. Wouldn’t lay awake at night terrified for the safety of my children. I wouldn’t be jumping at every noise or having panic attacks when some jerk gets too close to me.”
It would have been better if she had the same reaction to me.