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She met my stare and the sadness in her eyes tore me apart. “I think it’s time.”
She was talking about my response every time she asked one of her million questions. I always said it wasn’t the time. Now she was right. She deserved answers. She’d earned that.
“Yeah,” I said as I shut the water off, then grabbed the towel. “It’s time.”
After I bandaged her back, she put on a t-shirt and panties—much to my disappointment because a body like hers should never be covered up, especially not when she was with me—and I took off my pants and climbed into bed with her. Her head was on my chest, her arm draped over my torso and her leg slung over my leg. I laid on her pillow with one hand behind my head and the other roaming her body.
I ran my fingers through her damp hair, over her shoulders, down her arms, touching her anywhere and everywhere but her tender back. It didn’t matter what I had to do or how much I had to pay; I made a vow to myself that bastard’s mark wouldn’t scar her skin. She wouldn’t be branded by him. If she was going to live the rest of her life with reminders of anyone on her flesh, it was going to be me.
The heat from her pussy radiated against my thigh. The only thing separating me from her were two thin layers of fabric. Her breasts pressed into me, and her warm breath teased my skin. It was pure torture not to flip her over and bury my cock in her sweet cunt.
She looked up at me through dark lashes. “So… we’re cuddling now?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Her smile fucking melted me. “I should get kidnapped and tortured more often.” I tensed, and her smile fell. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
Yeah. Bad fucking joke.
Instinct had my hands itching to grab her throat and shut her up, to slam my cock so far in her cunt that her eyes filled with tears. To punish her for that shit. It was ingrained in me since my youth. My dick was a bloodthirsty motherfucker.
Silence settled around us. The air hummed with tension. Sexual. Nervous. All of the above.
“You said you wanted answers…” I prompted her, steering the conversation back to where we left it in the bathroom.
“Should we go all the way back to the beginning?”
Back to the beginning. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Then again, I supposed fate was timeless. Just like love or hate—things that weren’t bound by the hands of a clock.
I smiled at the memory of her standing there in front of the window. The strap of her dress had fallen off her shoulder. Fuck, she was under my skin even then.
“Don’t leave anything out.” Always so fucking determined, so curious, so damn sexy.
Here goes nothing.
“Your father, Alexander, and some other men from the Brotherhood were funding a website. We ordered them to shut it down. When they didn’t, we came here to do it for them.”
She shifted her head to look up at me, still so curious, ever the captive audience. “What kind of website?” The apprehension in her voice told me she already knew.
I stroked a stray hair from her eyes. “The kind where people pay to watch men like Alexander do the same thing to other girls that he tried to do to you.” Her body tightened against mine, her thigh flexing against my thigh. It was more of a reaction to my words and not meant to be sexy, but fuck it made my dick twitch. I continued, even with my erection straining against my boxer briefs.
“Alexander is in the Brotherhood?”
“Yeah, Little Rebel. He is.” I gave her the truth in doses. She’d already been through enough for one day.
“And Grey. Grey is one of them too.”
So observant. I guessed that came from being so curious.
“Yeah. Grey too. But he’s not like the others. He’s one of us.”
“One of you?” More fucking questions. This one didn’t bother me, though. This one I was proud to answer.
“One of the new Brotherhood, the one trying to take them down.” I grinned at the mental image. “That was why I went to the church the night of their induction ceremony. The night you followed me.” The night I fucked her for the first time. “I thought that if I could slip inside, learn how they work, how they think, then I’d have a better chance at blowing them apart.”
“The altar.” Her voice dropped. “That was for them.”
“No.” I gripped her chin between my fingers. “That was for me.” I swiped my thumb across her bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite it and suck it and… Jesus, this woman drove me insane. “Only me.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, god. The man on the platform. The one who stood up when I called your name—”
“Means nothing.” I stopped her before she let herself overthink. “None of them mean a motherfucking thing.”
“What happens when you take them down?”
She was asking what was going to happen to her father. Sometimes it was easy to forget that other people—normal people—didn’t shut their emotions off with a switch.
“I don’t know.” I caressed her cheek with my finger, not able to stop touching her. It wasn’t enough. A gentle touch wasn’t enough. Fuck. I wanted my hands all over her. “We’re not heroes out to change the world. We’re not good men. We’re just the lesser of two evils.” Like those snakes that ate other snakes. They were still snakes. They just didn’t prey on the innocent.
“I think that’s enough talking for one day.” There was something else I’d been dying to do with her mouth.
