Fuck, I’ll be her guard dog if she lets me.
I want her.
But she’s so sweet.Innocent.The women I usually fuck are nothing like that.I thought keeping her safe would be enough, but now I’m not so sure.What if one of the other men makes a move on her?
I’d have to kill them, and that would be unfortunate.
Am I good enough for her?No, but I don’t know how much longer I can stay away.
She’s at her favorite café, doing something on her laptop.I’ve noticed her little routine.After work, she either goes to a café or the library, then goes home to fix dinner.Once a week, she attends a book club, and on the weekends, she usually catches up with Ora and Lu.Her family lives a few hours’ drive away, and they see each other on holidays.She has a sister, Zelia, with whom she is very close.
She goes through her life living in her head, a smile on her face.She doesn’t pay attention to her environment, like she doesn’t believe there’s any bad in the world.While that worries me, I hope she stays that way and nothing ever happens to her to change that.It makes me feel protective of her in a way I’ve never felt before.
It’s two hours before she’s ready to leave.She steps outside the café and stares up at the sky, closing her eyes and enjoying the sunshine hitting her skin, and I can’t take my eyes off her.I know she’s way too fucking good for me.
As she walks toward her car, a man dressed in a suit stops her.She smiles at him, and my chest tightens.When she shakes her head ‘no’ and steps away from him, he reaches out and grips her arm.Getting off my bike, I’m about to storm over there when she pulls away from him, rubbing her arm, and quickly goes to her car.
I watch her drive away, and then wait for the man to get his coffee.
I hope he enjoys it because it’s going to be his last one.
No one touches my sunshine.
No one.
“There’s blood on your T-shirt,” Bones comments, crossing his arms over his chest and studying me.“You might want to clean that up before the women see.”
I put the knife I was playing with on the bar counter and look down.I know better than to kill someone wearing white.Sliding off my cut, I place it reverently next to my knife, then grip my T-shirt at my nape and pull it off.Then I put my cut back on.“Better?”
“Who did you fuck up?”he asks, sitting down next to me.
“It was personal,” I reply, picking my knife back up and sliding it between my fingers.
“You know you can call us if you need us.”
“I know.”
It’s just rare that I need anyone, which is why Xanthe is such a fucking enigma.
“That a new tatt?”he asks, pointing toward the sun over my heart.
“Yeah.”
I don’t offer any other explanation.Frankly, it’s none of his business.His blue eyes stare at me for a moment before he shakes his head.“It’s like getting blood out of a stone.”
I shrug.
Or a white T-shirt.
Sometimes, words don’t mean shit.
XANTHE
The words on my screen mean everything to me.
I’ve worked so hard on this romance novel, and it’s almost finished.I don’t know what it means that the male hero has a shaved head, a sexy beard, and tortured, gray eyes that call to me.He might even have a tongue ring.
It might sound obvious, but it’s not like one of the Serpents of Chaos MC men is going to pick up my book, right?It’s under my pen name, X.M.Love.My middle name is Macey.
