I tug her shirt over her head and shove her bra down, my fingers teasing her nipple. Her teeth scrape her bottom lip and when I cover her breast with my hand, she covers my hand. Almost as if she’s holding onto control. I lean in and kiss her, and she pants into my mouth, and I revel in the fact that her control is already gone. I nip her bottom lip, lapping at the offended skin, my fingers still tangled into her hair again.
I kiss her hard and fast, and mold every soft curve she owns against me, one hand scooping her perfect little ass. My lips linger just above hers, and there is no denying the deep ache Pri stirs in me, unfamiliar and somehow intrusive, and yet still additive. Too addictive for me to let her go.
She leans into me, her body submissive, a plea for me to go further, to show her everything there is to show. She wants to be pushed, to escape with me, but I hold back. I’m too close to the edge, too close to a part of me that may not be gentle. Tonight, our sins will stay our own. They will not be mine.
Angry at her for trusting so easily, angry at myself for where I almost went with Pri, tormented by how easy it was, I pull my mouth from hers. Her hand presses to my face and she whispers, “I’d tell you to stop deciding for me, but I think I owe you the same.”
It’s exactly what I need to hear and there’s an instant spike between us. The burn is provocative, almost dark and volatile, pulsing between us, a living thing, a band wrapping us together. We explode into passion, our clothes no longer on our bodies, our passion no longer contained. I roll her to her back, kissing her, driving into her, until she trembles in my arms, her sex clenching around me. She drags me with her, my body quaking, the world fading.
I end up on my back with her snuggled to my side, the sweet scent of floral perfume and warrior princess teasing my nostrils. And she is a warrior. She proved that today. And I dare to think that maybe, just maybe, we can battle the devil and our own demons, and together, we’ll win.Chapter Thirty-SevenADRIAN
Something wakes me up from where we sleep on the couch.
I lay there, Pri naked and still snuggled into my side, the dim light of the lamp casting shadows on the ceiling, unease clawing at me. I reach above my head and turn out the light. Seconds turn into a full minute and there’s a flicker of light outside the window, somewhere in the not too far distance. Holy fuck. We should be safe here. I wasn’t followed. I know I wasn’t followed.
Focused on action now, I grab my phone and text “911” to Lucifer, and shift Pri, leaning in to whisper. “We have trouble. Get dressed quietly.”
She is up instantly, and even in the darkness, I can see the fear etched on her pretty face, but I can’t comfort her now. I dress quickly, my gun at the back of my pants, a blade in my each of my boots. Another in my hand.
Footsteps stomp up the stairs. “Adrian, it’s Pitt.”
I flip on the light, and Pri whispers. “How can he be here? How does he know you’re here and oh God. Is your team—”
“No,” I say, grabbing my phone and dialing Lucifer.
He answers immediately with, “Savage is on his way,” and I feel relief about the backup and the team’s safety. “We’re silent here,” he adds. “What’s happening?” I glance at Pri and say, “They’re fine,” before turning my attention back to the call. “Agent Pitt is here. Find out why.”
“I thought you said no one knows that place?” he asks.
Another knock at the door. “Adrian! Are you there, man?”
I focus on answering Lucifer. “They don’t. This is nothing good. I’m taking us underground. You know what to do.”
“Copy that,” he says, and I hang up, sliding my phone into my pocket. “Where’s your gun?”
“Purse,” she says, “by the door.”
“I’ll grab it for you and then I need you to go to the hallway behind the living room. I don’t want you near a window. Don’t leave the house without me. There are explosives back there.”
“Okay,” she says. “My God. Okay.”
I’m already walking, snatching her purse and handing it to her. “Go,” I mouth, flipping on the porch light and glancing out the window. Pitt is alone, at least for now.
My knife flips to my palm, out of sight, and I unbolt the door and open it. He has on a rain jacket, his hands free and visible. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I got a message to meet you here. Could you have picked a crappier night, my man? But damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”