frown.
The taller-- smarter --man shut his brother up with an elbow in the rib. "What if we need to find you? How do we get in touch?"
"I'll be at the club." Bren didn't glance in Six's direction, but he drifted until he stood in front of the boxes. "Run on down there. Have a good time, and I'll be along."
His body blocked most of her view of the brothers as they groaned their way out the door, but there were worse sights than denim hugging Bren's ass and the strong expanse of his shoulders. Her body was still cranked, oblivious to the fact that danger had passed.
Or maybe it hadn't. Those two dumb fucks were about to disappear, and then it'd just be her and Bren and the taste of violence in the air, and maybe that was a thousand times more dangerous.
She really was a goddamn pervert.
The door slammed shut, but Bren didn't move. "Are you okay?"
His body looked as tense as hers felt liquid. She eased into the open, taking nearly silent steps that wouldn't fool him. She knew from experience that he heard everything. "I'm fine. You weren't gonna let anything happen to me."
"That doesn't make it pleasant for you."
"That bullshit was nothing. It used to be my life every damn day." Reaching out, she grazed the tense line of his shoulder. "Until you."
He whipped around, eyes blazing, and caught her wrist.
Bloodlust, pure and simple. The same unspent adrenaline burning her veins was surging through his, too. He was a predator who'd checked his killing blow and sent his prey scurrying toward freedom. It wasn't hard to read the need in his eyes, the longing to turn all that adrenaline toward a different kind of hunt, the kind that would end with her over the table, begging to come on his cock.
She could stop it in a heartbeat, with fear or hesitation or even a whispered word. But the words that slipped past her suddenly numb lips weren't hesitant. "Watching you beat people down gets me hot. It makes me wet."
His eyes darkened, and he slid his other hand into her hair. "Here? With bullets and casings all over the floor?"
She traced a hand down to palm his growing erection. "This is what I'm used to. Screwing in a dirty warehouse after someone has tried to kill me. A safe bed's a little intimidating."
A quick breath escaped him, along with a soft noise that sounded like a swallowed groan. Then he backed her against the wall and lifted her arms over her head. "Keep them there."
A clear order. Before she had a chance to either agree or argue, he licked her lower lip. Nothing more obscene than that, except that it took forever for him to trace his tongue from one side of her lip to the other, and she was panting by the time he ran his hands down her sides to tease under the hem of her shirt.
He left them there, his fingers warm on the bare skin of her waist, as he tilted his head, nudged her lips apart, and kept licking. Deeper. Wetter. He was exploring her, tasting her, priming her for his touch in a way that made her squirm.
Fucking was comprehensible. Fucking was neat and fast and clean, even when it was messy. This was something else.
Seduction.
Then he kissed her. Really kissed her, their lips fused and his tongue gliding over hers, and she couldn't keep her arms helplessly above her head. Not when need had turned so frantic, so sharp.
She grabbed the back of his head, terrified that he'd try to pull away and rob her of the way her body pulsed with each clash of tongue. She was hungry, starving for this feeling, the giddy wanting she hadn't felt in years.
His hands tightened, relaxed. Moved to the button on her borrowed leather pants.
Nervous tension sizzled up her spine, the full weight of what she was about to do smashing down hard on its heels. She was using Bren, pouncing on this fracture in his self-control, dragging him down into the dirt with her. He'd probably feel bad for fucking her like this, against a rough wall in the rubble of Sector Three. He still thought she deserved something better.
The taller-- smarter --man shut his brother up with an elbow in the rib. "What if we need to find you? How do we get in touch?"
"I'll be at the club." Bren didn't glance in Six's direction, but he drifted until he stood in front of the boxes. "Run on down there. Have a good time, and I'll be along."
His body blocked most of her view of the brothers as they groaned their way out the door, but there were worse sights than denim hugging Bren's ass and the strong expanse of his shoulders. Her body was still cranked, oblivious to the fact that danger had passed.
Or maybe it hadn't. Those two dumb fucks were about to disappear, and then it'd just be her and Bren and the taste of violence in the air, and maybe that was a thousand times more dangerous.
She really was a goddamn pervert.
The door slammed shut, but Bren didn't move. "Are you okay?"
His body looked as tense as hers felt liquid. She eased into the open, taking nearly silent steps that wouldn't fool him. She knew from experience that he heard everything. "I'm fine. You weren't gonna let anything happen to me."
"That doesn't make it pleasant for you."
"That bullshit was nothing. It used to be my life every damn day." Reaching out, she grazed the tense line of his shoulder. "Until you."
He whipped around, eyes blazing, and caught her wrist.
Bloodlust, pure and simple. The same unspent adrenaline burning her veins was surging through his, too. He was a predator who'd checked his killing blow and sent his prey scurrying toward freedom. It wasn't hard to read the need in his eyes, the longing to turn all that adrenaline toward a different kind of hunt, the kind that would end with her over the table, begging to come on his cock.
She could stop it in a heartbeat, with fear or hesitation or even a whispered word. But the words that slipped past her suddenly numb lips weren't hesitant. "Watching you beat people down gets me hot. It makes me wet."
His eyes darkened, and he slid his other hand into her hair. "Here? With bullets and casings all over the floor?"
She traced a hand down to palm his growing erection. "This is what I'm used to. Screwing in a dirty warehouse after someone has tried to kill me. A safe bed's a little intimidating."
A quick breath escaped him, along with a soft noise that sounded like a swallowed groan. Then he backed her against the wall and lifted her arms over her head. "Keep them there."
A clear order. Before she had a chance to either agree or argue, he licked her lower lip. Nothing more obscene than that, except that it took forever for him to trace his tongue from one side of her lip to the other, and she was panting by the time he ran his hands down her sides to tease under the hem of her shirt.
He left them there, his fingers warm on the bare skin of her waist, as he tilted his head, nudged her lips apart, and kept licking. Deeper. Wetter. He was exploring her, tasting her, priming her for his touch in a way that made her squirm.
Fucking was comprehensible. Fucking was neat and fast and clean, even when it was messy. This was something else.
Seduction.
Then he kissed her. Really kissed her, their lips fused and his tongue gliding over hers, and she couldn't keep her arms helplessly above her head. Not when need had turned so frantic, so sharp.
She grabbed the back of his head, terrified that he'd try to pull away and rob her of the way her body pulsed with each clash of tongue. She was hungry, starving for this feeling, the giddy wanting she hadn't felt in years.
His hands tightened, relaxed. Moved to the button on her borrowed leather pants.
Nervous tension sizzled up her spine, the full weight of what she was about to do smashing down hard on its heels. She was using Bren, pouncing on this fracture in his self-control, dragging him down into the dirt with her. He'd probably feel bad for fucking her like this, against a rough wall in the rubble of Sector Three. He still thought she deserved something better.
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