Hanging up, I shoved my phone back into my pocket and another explosion shook the building. I kept her pinned underneath me, my body shielding her from most of the debris. The building shook; screams and shouts echoed in the distance. She shifted and ground against my pelvis. It took all my years of training to keep my expression blank.
It wasn’t her intent to turn me the fuck on, but fuck, I was ready to shove her panties aside and thrust into her.
Wrong fucking time. To say the moment wasn’t right was an understatement.
We had to get the hell out of here. Before the cops, Feds, and first responders swarmed this place. Yet, I remained immobile, painfully aware of her soft curves underneath me and my dick deciding to play.
I gripped her hips and met her gaze. “Stop moving,” I gritted. “Unless you’re attempting to fucking seduce me in the middle of this shit.”
Her blue eyes flashed with disdain. “Sorry, fucker. You’re not my type.”
No surprise there. After all, I’d seen her prissy, pampered, sometimes boyfriend.
“Then stop grinding yourself against my cock,” I ordered.
Her lips parted, that luscious full mouth only inches away, tempting me to sink my teeth into them. And the fucking look on her face set fire to my groin. Her body felt too good underneath me. It was the kind of body meant to seduce, to lick, and to savor. To fucking obliterate. I wanted to see how loud she screamed in the throes of passion.
Because she would scream, regardless if she was a screamer or not.
Her silvery hair sprawled over the debris covered floor gave her an appearance of a fallen angel thrown into the pits of hell.
A hell that this devil ruled. The dominion where I reigned.
“Are you going to fucking stare at me all day?” she snapped, the annoyance in her voice clear.
“I might,” I mused. Who could blame me? She was absolutely stunning.
She glared at me, those wide, ocean blues glittering as her gaze narrowed to slits. I was tempted to remain on top of her just a bit longer, either to annoy her or just to relish in the feeling of her luscious curves underneath me, screaming for me to taste.
And holy fuck, her scent. It filled the air around me and seeped through my skin. It was that same primrose scent I remembered. Why in the hell didn’t she remember me?
The sound of distant gunfire dragged my mind out of the gutter and to the reality of our situation.
I jumped up to my feet and then hauled her up by her arm.
“Let’s go,” I ordered her. “There’s no time to waste.”
She jerked out of my hold. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she hissed. “Get the hell away from me.”
I gritted my teeth, unaccustomed to being disobeyed.
Especially from a woman. I was all for strong and independent, but not reckless and stupid. She opened her mouth to say something but the sound of guns kept nearing so I interrupted whatever words she planned on uttering.
“If you want to live,” I told her harshly, “-you’ll fucking tag along. If you’d rather die, be my guest. But my brother won’t.”
Sheer terror entered her ocean gaze.
Fuck, so much for talking it through rather than scaring the shit out of her. That plan went up in smoke. There we go - the mistake I’d made with Dahlia repeated all over again.
Before I could assure her I meant neither her or my brother any harm, there was another loud explosion, the force of it sending us flying through the air. Her scream shattered through the chaos and her hands reached for me. Rolling sideways, my arms closed around her slim waist, using my body as a shield.
“Why can’t the fuckers just take their punishment?” she muttered. “They’re criminals and belong in jail.”
I shook my head at her logic. Her way of thinking was still just as strange as the day I met her.
Before I could ponder further on it, the roar of another explosion sounded off somewhere. A round of gunfire shot through the air and followed closely by a loud crash.
We crouched down and kept close to the walls while I kept her behind me, to ensure she stayed out of the line of fire. There were bodies everywhere, some hurt and others dead. I peered around the corner to ensure it was clear to continue.
“Clear,” I whispered.
Then we started moving through the debris. And some dead bodies. Y/n’s gasp had me turning my head just in time.
One of Willard’s men had a gun trained on me. Acting on instinct, I pushed Y/n behind me, while at the same time aimed my gun at him. Bang.
Straight between his eyes. He was dead.
Another fucker joined him and I shoved Y/n onto the ground, my body covering hers. Shots rang through the air. He kept trying to aim but thankfully a large pile of debris covered both of our bodies while my body sheltered hers.
When the gunfire stopped, I heard the familiar click. He was reloading. This was my chance. I lifted my head and aimed.
Bang.
Another dead soul to stain my record.
My eyes lowered back to the woman underneath me. “Five steps and we’re out of here,” I attempted to comfort her. Her breathing was slightly erratic and fear was clear on her face. “Are you good?”
A terse nod and wide eyes met my gaze. And all the while her fingers clutched my suit. As if she needed an anchor from spiraling into this thing that happened to be my life.
The underworld where war, guns, and threats were part of an everyday life.
She’s part of it now, whether she liked it or not.