I tilt my head back to look up at the hulking beast of a man, looming over me like a dark god of the underworld. He reaches up, bulky muscles rippling under taught skin at the movement. I suck in a breath of air, and for one titillating moment, I think he might touch me again.
It could have been the intensity and chaos of the moment a car almost smeared me across the sidewalk, but when he put his hands on me, plucking me off my feet and into his arms, something happened between us. It is thrilling, electric, and almost sensual. I want to feel it all again, this time without a ton of steel hurtling at me at 50MPH.
He moves like he’s going to caress my nape. Instead, he takes a small clump of my hair and coils it around a thick index finger. He’s being coy, yet I get the feeling he’s hesitating.
It’s like he’s afraid to touch me again.
“Funny,” he says, his voice husky. “You jumped to a pretty quick conclusion that I was the one to kill your sister, without having any evidence of the fact.”
“I retract my statement.”
“Good,” he drawls in a growl that’s nearly a purr. My skin prickles.
“I don’t think you killed my sister. But I’d like to know exactly who you are and what your relationship with her was.”
Instead of answering my question, my savior acts as though I didn’t ask it at all.
“Back to the shifters,” he plucks gently at my hair in thought. “The ones you’ve seen in the news, they are poster children for their kind. They might seem like good people, and maybe they are. But the pack that infests these parts isn’t anywhere close to the type of people you see smiling on the news, volunteering at soup kitchens, and starring in teen romance movies. They’re thugs, drug dealers, and woman beaters. These people are animals.”
“D-drug dealers?” A buried memory pushes into the front of my mind. “Elise called me a couple weeks before her death, asking for money. It was a large sum.”
His eyes narrow and he releases my coil of golden hair to press his palms against the wall on either side of my head, imprisoning me between massive biceps. I’m a prisoner, yet I feel…safe.
“Think it might have been smart to mention that earlier?”
“I didn’t think I would be asking for your help.”
“Well, you need it. Don’t you?” His eyes burn with an intense heat that scorches my skin.
I consider his question. Do I need it? I want to deny the fact that I need anyone, that I can do this on my own and once I discover the killer or any shred of evidence that points to the killer, I can call the police for reinforcements. But it’s a sad and pathetic plan, one that won’t hold in a stiff breeze. If this guy is right about the shifters, I’ll be way over my head. I’m already in over my head with this tatted Hercules of a man who’s saved my life minutes after I accused him of murder. The police wouldn’t be enough to frighten away any shifters, but the sight of this guy when he’s all worked up might be enough to make a demi-god shit his backbone. At the very least, he could keep me alive for longer than I’d manage on my own. Hell, he’s already accomplished that tonight.
I do need him.
“Are you offering me your help?”
The perfectly rounded lips, just inches from my own, curl into a cocky smirk. I hate myself for wanting to kiss it right off his face.
“I am.” His baritone voice contains traces of something dark and forbidden, like the rest of him.
My cheeks heat under the gravity of his fierce stare. Why do I feel like I’m about to make a deal with the devil himself? And why does it feel so right?
“And what do you want in exchange?” I whisper. The vulnerability in my own tone is enough to bring the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. What am I doing? I need this guy’s help but…
I don’t even know his name.
His intrusive gaze rakes down the length of my body, my skin prickling in the wake of his leering eyes of black. I don’t need to read minds to know what he’s thinking. In the pits of his inky irises, I see something good, something that makes me feel inexplicably safe in his orbit. Behind that, I see festering depravity that threatens to consume my very soul should I venture too close.
The thought of it sends a deep ache between my thighs and brings my pulse to a wild thrum, beating against my ribs like a war drum.
Was this why I couldn’t get Seattle out of my head that day I followed this man to the bar from the funeral?
I don’t believe in destiny, I don’t believe in fate. But some truly powerful force is re-forging the armor I’ve worn for twenty-five years to make room for this man in my heart whose name I don’t even know. This creature of the night, who smells of whiskey and misery, is some sort of deadly narcotic, and I am in need of an overdose.
Chapter 6
Sophie
After a moment so tense it’s suffocating, the man heaves a tortured sigh and rubs the back of his skull. “I’ll have you know I’m not interested in money.”
I look around at the studio so small it would make a college student freshly moved from his parents’ house blush. “Surprisingly, I think I actually believe that.”
“As you should. I won’t ever lie to you.”
Somehow, I believe that too.
“I can pay you, but it won’t be much.” I lower my gaze. Somehow offering to pay him to help me investigate Elise’s murder seems more shameful than fucking him for it.
“I don’t want your money, don’t make me say it again.”
A shiver jolts down my body. I can’t help but get the feeling he’s asking for my soul as payment. “You…don’t want anything from me as payment for your help?”
I can’t believe I’m asking this question, yet I know what I’m fishing for. I want my intoxicating tattoo-covered savior. I want him bad.
And from the way his eyes linger on me, hot and heavy and glazed with lust, I think he wants me too.
“You’re offering to mate with me in exchange for my aid?” he says in a smooth and soft voice. His nostrils flare as if he finds the notion appealing. His eyes linger on me, and I can’t help get the sense that he’s imagining it.
Jesus Christ. Mate with him? Who refers to hooking up as ‘mating?’ Not that ‘hooking up’ is the appropriate description either. There is no way in hell casual hook-ups go anything like what’s happening in this room.
I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin. As a bartender, I’ve had plenty of people interested in me, but I was never comfortable with letting anyone get that close to me. It never felt right. Until now.
Before I fully realize what I’m doing, I’m nodding in response to his question. Yes. I want to.
I want him to touch me again, to explore that electricity between us. I want a look inside this man, to see all the secrets he keeps locked away. Because he has them, I can see them glinting like diamonds in the deep caverns of his eyes.
He lifts a brow, lips pursing like I’ve put a very enticing offer on the table. I suppose I have. My virginity in exchange for his help in solving my sister’s murder.
But it’s so much more than a business transaction, I feel that deep in my bones.
“Interesting prospect. I’d be lying if I said it’s one I didn’t want to take. But I’d be giving up something for you. Something important to me.”
I blink. He’d be giving something up to sleep with me? That doesn’t make any sense.
“You would help me, regardless?”
For a moment, he looks offended. “Yes. Whether you’re attracted to me or not, I’ll still track down Elise’s killer and make him suffer.”
I gap at him. He’d claimed to be Elise’s friend, but I already know, on some level, that that’s a lie. “Why so suddenly invested in revenge?”
“Because now I know there’s someone deserving of my fury. It will make me feel better, and I think it will make you feel better too.” His lips slowly curve into a wry grin. “And I want to make you feel good.”
My heart leaps in my chest. I’ve kn
own this stranger for all of an hour, and he’s saved my life, filled me with an addicting sense of security and safety, and wants to do right by my sister.
I can’t believe my luck, and at the same time, I hate my stupid, traitorous heart for letting this man past my armor. He’s a drunk, he’s dangerous, and he seems to know things he shouldn’t, which only solidifies the fact that I should keep my distance.
But my heart, my body, and my soul won’t have any of the sense my mind is trying to peddle.
I want this man. I’m desperate for a taste of that divine despair that clings to him like a fine, masculine cologne.
It’s then that the lights flicker out, and we’re plunged in complete darkness.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“What happened?” My eyes strain. All I can see is the rough silhouette of the hulking form in front of me, his burly frame illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming in through the drawn drapes of his living room window, fitting him like a halo.
“Power went out. Didn’t pay the bill. Thought I had had a few more days.”
“You couldn’t pay it?”
“I can pay, my job’s just late with my stipend.”
“You have a job?” Seeing his lifestyle, this comes at a slight surprise.
“I got…” His eyes slice through the darkness, and I can feel them on me, heating my skin even under the cover of night. “Demoted. Pay cut in half. I used to live on Capitol Hill, but I’ve recently relocated.”
That explains all the boxes.
“I’m sorry about the demotion…”
“Don’t be.” I can hear the dry smile in his tone. “The job was fine enough, but management was shit.”
“You said you were a bodyguard right? Or like, security? If you don’t like your boss, why not quit and do your own thing?” I swallow hard. “I’ll be your first client.”
An electric silence settles over us. It’s several tense moments before he finally responds. “There are certain benefits that come with working for the big guys.”
“Well, I can’t offer health insurance or a 401k or anything.”
He chuckles as though I’ve just dropped the punchline to a hilarious joke.
I slide him a sultry grin, one that seems to come naturally when I thought I hadn’t a sensual bone in my body. I guess tonight’s a night for firsts.
I never imagined I’d actually make any headway with this investigation, but having this guy on board to watch my back while I’m knee-deep in Elise’s troubled past, sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in a long time. If my twin did get caught up with a drug peddling werewolf pack, there might be more gunfire to worry about, in which case having this chiseled god as my shield might come in handy.
Our agreement is made like a business transaction. We both had a connection to Elise, so we both have a personal stake in this task. But with each excruciating second that slides by without his hands on me, it’s also an excuse to spend more time with him. Whoever he is, I’m hot for him. Like two magnets, the closer we get to one another, the tighter that tension becomes.
It’s a sinful itch I ache to scratch. Minute by minute, breath by breath, it’s becoming unbearable.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a rough tone that grates against my skin, rubbing it raw. I’m so enamored by this spell he has over me, I didn’t notice my body leaning towards him. We’re so close now you couldn’t get a piece of paper between us.
I gap up at him, almost in awe when the magnificent specimen of male presses me against the wall of his tiny kitchenette. Our chests mash into each other, and I know he can feel the furious beat of my heart against his pectorals. Each breath I manage to take comes labored as I feel the swell of something hard and quite large pressing against my thigh.
A bead of sweat rolls down his brow, over his jawline, and glistens in the slash of moonlight that leaks through the window as it slips down his neck to pool in the hollow of his throat. It gleams again, twitching as he swallows.
My mouth goes dry, watching him. This incredible, confusing creature possesses a beauty so unearthly in its perfection, it almost hurts to look at him, even in the dark. And a part of me wonders…maybe that’s just how I perceive him.
I don’t believe in magic, yet I’m convinced I’m under some sort of spell, one so divine it’s one I never want to break.
“Do you want to kiss me?” I whisper.
“I want to do a whole lot more than that to you.”
My breath catches in my mouth, a sputter of a gasp spilling past my lips. Just then, he inhales, almost like he’s tasting it.
“Then why don’t you?”
He tenses at my question. “Like I said, I’d be giving something up for you.”
Giving something up. What the hell does that mean? “Is it a woman?”
“No. Women don’t tend to like me.”
I let out a laugh but by his stance, his silence, and the tick of his jaw, I realize that he’s not making a joke. “Wait, you can’t be serious?”
“I’m always serious.”
No kidding.
“But you’re gorgeous.”
I would give almost anything to see his expression more clearly, yet by the little I see in the moonlight, I’m sure he’s smiling at the compliment. “Most women find me intimidating to the point that they don’t notice anything else.”
“I notice.”
“I’m glad.” By his tone, I believe him.
“This thing you’d be giving up, it’s important?”
He considers for a moment. “I thought it was, but I think…and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe it isn’t so important after all.”
“What changed your mind?”
“A miracle.” Something in those two words warms my skin and stirs the ache between my thighs.
The next instant, his mouth crashes over mine in a possessive kiss, bearing all the peace and calm of a raging typhoon. His strong hand comes up to cup the nape of my neck and his knuckles stroke my jawline.
The kiss is deep and devastating and full of dark promises that rattle my very being. I’ve never felt so much rage, lust, passion, and desperation in a single kiss.
There’s no turning back.
His tongue presses past my lips, and he’s inside me, filling me. It makes my other places feel empty in comparison. His tongue is dominating, probing, and skillful.
It’s like I’m frenching the devil himself.
My mind goes to a sinful place as I allow myself to consider for a few tantalizing seconds, what it might feel like if his tongue were to give my other set of lips this kind of attention. Clamped tightly in his iron grip, and his mouth so possessive around mine, I’m left gasping against him, breathing rough and depraved.
The kiss seems to last for eternity, yet when he breaks from me, it’s over too soon. In his arms, I’m a trembling mess. I look at him, and I find myself completely and utterly enamored. Despite the cloak of the night he wears as well as a finely-tailored suit, his features are barely visible. His massive frame eclipses most of the light that manages to leak in from outside, but a thin thread of silver moonlight highlights his profile.
His painfully beautiful features are scrunched up in an expression that wrenches my heart out of my chest, and in that moment, he steals it away. It’s like he’s a man at war with his humanity, if he’s human at all.
“What are you?” I rasp, my breathing stilted from the impassioned kiss.
“Yours.”
I melt into him. “I’ve never had a kiss like that.”
His massive arms encircle me, drawing me into his broad body of masculine perfection. As he holds me in a way no one ever has, that armor I’ve always worn dissolves in an instant. I’m filled with a desire that I never knew existed. Liquid heat pools in my stomach as calloused hands grip my waist with a possession that makes me desperate to be his.
“It was more than a kiss, Sophie. It was a contract. From this day forth, you’re my ward, whether the
Heavens recognize it or not. I’ll keep you safe, always. And I swear to you, my dear, sweet woman, I will avenge your sister.”
My skin prickles at his words, spoken soft and silky with all the reverence of prayer. I don’t understand most of what he’s saying, but the oath strikes a chord in my heart that both frightens and thrills me. “I don’t even know your name.”
He chuckles. I can hear the smile he wears in his voice. “It’s Gideon.”
It’s a name I’ve heard before. Three syllables, it should be nothing special or extraordinary. But it is. And hearing it now, flitting off his tongue like a precious gift wrapped in his velvety deep voice, it feels like it’s mine.
Gideon.
Chapter 7
Gideon
Fuck Paradise. Fuck their rules. Fuck my wings.
And what better way to fuck them all than by fucking my fated mate. No matter how well I protect this girl, I’ll never get my wings back if I’m caught bedding her. They would find out, all it would take is a good strong whiff of her to catch the scent of my seed on her skin.
I don’t have the willpower to resist her. She’s like no other I’ve ever met before. She’s more than a gorgeous woman, she’s a goddess, hot and slick with desire for me.
No creature more perfect than her has ever existed. My entire body yearns for her, my inner protector is salivating over her. And that’s how I know she’s mine.
To hell with Paradise. They’ve already thrown me to the wolves. For her, I’ll throw myself into the den if it means having gotten a taste of her.
This girl is my fated mate, there’s no denying it. The concept of angels having fated mates has always been one stuffed under the carpet, so to speak, by Paradise. Most angels, especially guardians, don’t like to admit that they’re a form of shifters, that we’re all animals deep down.
Claimed by my Dark Angel: A Forbidden Paranormal Romance (Saints to Sinners Book 1) Page 4
