Page 42 of Hallowed Bones

Perhaps that’s why I let my anger out for a change. He’s got me pinned, and no one is even bothering to ask if I’m okay. Lifting my chin, I give Lyall a death glare and shove my hands against his chest. “You’re really bad at taking a hint.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even sway. Just stands there like a goddamn wall. His grin widens into a wicked smirk. “Maybe you’re bad at giving them,” he murmurs.

His hair’s come loose from the bun at the nape of his neck, a few strands sweeping across his cheekbones. Too charming. Too dangerous. The kind of man who’d smile while tearing your world to pieces. Pretty. Dangerous. Feral.

“Get out of my way.”

Lyall leans in, breath brushing the curve of my jaw. “Make me.”

My pulse kicks hard against my ribs.

“I’m not scared of you.” I bite out the words even as my skin cries out for more of his heat. Fear? That bitch doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. I’ve lost everything I ever cared about. What’s next? Death?

“Oh, Rabbit…” His smile sharpens. “You should be.”

A low growl curls up my throat as I shove him again, putting everything I’ve got into it. His chest is solid under my palms, unforgiving. He doesn’t so much as grunt. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“But it fits you so well,” he purrs. The sound rumbles against my breasts where they’re pressed against him. “Soft and sweet, like you want to run … but you won’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” His gaze drops, dragging across my chest, my waist, as he pulls back just enough to look down the length of me. “I bet you taste as good as you look.”

My fingers twitch, then curl into fists. I realize that brute force won’t do anything for me here. Not when he’s so much bigger and stronger than I am. It’s time to change tactics.

Flattening my palms on his chest, I slide them up. He reacts almost immediately, his body stiffening and going still as if the predator senses a new monster before him that was masquerading as prey. I tilt my head and let my lips curve. “Is that so?”

His wicked smile falters. Good.

Suspicion glitters in his eyes as he replies. “It’s so,” he says, voice husky now. “I want to lick you up, bite you. Hard.”

My pussy throbs at his words. It’s been a damn long time since I had sex, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to break my dry spell with a cocky dick like Lyall. I’d thought he was the laid-back one of the Sons of Salem, but seeing him like this—I can see that Liz was right. Lyall is a player. I have no doubt that rumors of his sharing women is probably true. If I let myself be taken in by him, no doubt, I’ll wake up naked tomorrow morning.

Would that be so bad? a small voice asks, but I wave it away.

I force a laugh as my fingers trail lower, over the hard-packed abs beneath his shirt. He tenses.

Six.

I count them. Are all of them this well built? It’s not fair to anyone with eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes narrowing to slits.

“Nothing,” I murmur absently, innocently, flicking open the button of his jeans. “Unless you want me to stop…”

He leans down, mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “Not on your life,” he breathes. “Keep going, Rabbit. I want to see how far you’ll push before you break.”

I drag the zipper down, watching the tension tighten his jaw. He’s not laughing anymore. There’s a flash of fang when he bites his lip, the monster in him slipping through the cracks.

I could end this here. Grab him, squeeze, make him beg. Make him regret cornering me.

But before I can act, Lyall’s wrenched away—thrown across the kitchen like a rag doll.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ezra’s voice booms like thunder.

I stare, frozen in shock, as Lyall crashes into the wall. The entire kitchen shudders with the impact.

Ezra stalks forward, fury in every inch of his body. A few partygoers glance our way now, eyes wide. Two guys by the back door don’t even pretend not to watch.