AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There.
My heart lurches as my gaze lands on a table near the back. Three men are sitting around it, and even though no one else in the bar is paying them overt attention, there’s a subtle energy in the way everyone avoids eye contact with them that shows just how very aware of them each and every person in here is.
Two of the men are facing the door, and one has his back to me, but none of them looked up when I entered.
I take a breath, grateful to have a few seconds to get a read on them and convince myself again that I can make this work before I approach their table.
From the digging I did today and the bits and pieces I’ve overheard from people in our neighborhood, I recognize one of the men right away.
Maddoc Gray.
The leader of the Reapers.
I’ve heard people talk about him, and I have no trouble picking him out as the hard-looking man on the right. The dark lines of a few swirling, intricate tattoos are faint shadows poking out from under his white shirt, and his hair is so dark it’s almost black. More tattoos decorate the backs of his hands, the inked designs curling over his fingers. There’s a calculating look on his brutally handsome face as he nods along with whatever the leanly muscled man at his side is saying, and even from a few yards away, his eyes are striking,
The irises are a light, frosty gray near the center, transitioning to something stormy and dark at the outer edges. He bleeds power and dominance, saturating the air around him.
The man on Maddoc’s left is blond and lean, his muscles as perfectly defined as his jawline. There’s something about him that’s almosttooperfect, nothing out of place, making him look like a statue that somehow came to life. He radiates a deadly sort of intensity as he listens to something Maddoc is saying, his ice-blue eyes narrowing just slightly.
The third man has his back to me, but even though I can’t see his face, I can tell he’s just as broadly muscled as the other two—maybe even more so. He’s got even more tattoos than Maddoc does, covering nearly every part of him that I can see.
They all look like they could snap me in half without even breaking a sweat. Not that they’d need to, since I’m sure they’re all packing and could put a bullet between my eyes just as easily.
Adrenaline floods my system. The idea of walking over there, of getting anywhere near these men, has my palms sweating and sends my pulse into overdrive.
But I don’t have a choice. I found exactly what I came here looking for, and I can’t bail out now. So I force my feet to move, one step and then another carrying me closer and closer to the table at the back.
The big man with all the ink shifts in his seat as I approach and finally looks my way, the first one to take notice of me. Our gazes lock, and I almost trip over nothing.
Fuck.
I know him.
It’s the man I broke my own rules for.
It’s Dante.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise as recognition crosses his face, and my heart skips a beat.
Dammit. I had no clue that I was getting laid by a goddamn Reaper last night. I had no idea who he was or who he associated with when I begged him for his cock.
His lips twitch the tiniest bit at the corners, something hot and possessive flaring in his eyes, and I swallow, all the nerves I just shoved down flaring to life again like a swarm of angry locusts.
Maddoc and the other man are still talking, but Dante’s gaze moves over me lazily, snagging on the hickeys I covered so carefully with makeup before coming here tonight.
I know he can’t see them. There’s no way—not in this lighting, not with my makeup skills—but the way his eyes pause on each one makes me doubt myself for a moment.
My fingers twitch, but I force myself not to touch the places he marked me, even though I swear I can feel them start to tingle. My feet feel like lead, and I’m dying to turn and run as those locusts spill into my bloodstream, buzzing through every inch of me until I’m on the edge of panic again.
But I can’t.
I can’t walk away without at least trying.
Dante hasn’t said a word, but Maddoc and the man with flat, ice-blue eyes both stop talking at the same time and look over at me, absolutely nothing about their gazes welcoming in the least.
Forcing my feet to keep moving, I walk up to the table, keeping my eyes locked with Maddoc’s.
“What?” he finally says, the gravelly tone of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
