CONVICT: A Dark Romance (Sin City Salvation Book 2)

by A. Zavarelli

  “Huck,” she chanted, grinding her hips against my palm.

  My mouth latched onto the soft globe of her breast through the tank top, throat working as I sucked. She was getting close. I could feel it in the tightening of her muscles. Her thighs squeezing around my hips. Every lash of my tongue incited a fresh wave of goose bumps on her skin. I was in control. But then she reached down and dragged her nails over my jeans, scraping against the hardness of my cock.

  “Birdie,” I rasped. “Don’t.”

  Her only answer was a growl as she tipped her head back to reveal the delicate flesh of her throat. I yanked my hand out of her jeans and grabbed both sides of her ass, dragging her against me as my lips found her neck. My teeth bit into her skin, claiming her as I jackhammered my body against hers.

  The counter shook, and more shit fell to the floor. But I kept going. I kept grinding my dick against her, knowing that just beneath the barrier, her pussy was soaked for me. Birdie clung to me, nails biting into my arms. She was shaking. Breathless. On the verge of desperation as she pleaded for me to keep going.

  And then she fractured, her body shuddering against me before she went completely limp in my arms. In the aftermath, she almost fell out of my grasp, but I caught her. Cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, she looked up at me, and then down between us, where my throbbing dick was still pressing at the zipper of my jeans.

  Confusion clouded her eyes, and it was evident she didn’t know what to do now. Neither did I. Her lips were swollen from our kiss, and red patches bloomed on the surface of her skin where I’d sucked. She was thoroughly marked by me, and for now, that was enough.

  Leaning forward, I kissed her one last time and then swatted her on the ass as I helped her down. “Let’s eat.”

  HUCK WILLIAM FALLON.

  A little light snooping around his office while he disappeared into the bathroom had given me some insight into the man who’d just crawled inside my soul and rattled my caged heart. It was still beating hard from our encounter, and I was still trying to come back down to earth.

  I didn’t even know how it happened. One minute, he was looking at me with those soulful whiskey eyes, and the next, I was spreading my legs for him. He was beautiful. Animalistic. Addictive. I realized when he was kissing me, touching me, wrecking me… it would be so easy to fall into a habit I couldn’t shake. I wanted him in ways I’d never wanted a man. I craved the intimacy of his eyes on mine while he was inside me. Fucking me. Owning me. Destroying me.

  His office smelled like him, and it wasn’t making it any easier to pull myself out of this quicksand. Now was my opportunity to run. I told myself that was what I was going to do this morning. But maybe I could stay. Just a little longer.

  In this bubble, none of the things that could destroy me existed. The video. The detective. My past. It was just Huck and me. He was teaching me how to fix the broken, and I thought maybe he could figure out how to fix me too.

  My fingers trailed over his desk, touching all his things with a possessiveness I didn’t recognize. He was a simple man, and his office reflected that. Wooden rolling chair. Six ballpoint pens. Bills marked “paid” with tidy black ink. There were tools I didn’t recognize. Wires and spare parts. I imagined that his brain must look like this too. He had a mind unlike anyone else I knew, and I wished for the life of me I could figure it out.

  When I turned to look for something else to put my fingers on, I found him lurking in the doorway. He’d been watching me, and his expression bordered on tense. He didn’t like people touching his things. I sensed that when I was working with him and by the way his guys used their own tools on their own side of the shop.

  “You better get used to it,” I told him. “If you plan to keep me around.”

  His shoulders relaxed, and he stepped inside, draping his long, heavy-duty body into the wooden chair. Carefully, and without words, he unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat. I parked up on his desk, my legs swinging freely as I nibbled on my own sandwich and left the veggies behind. Huck noticed, and it seemed to bother him, but he chose not to say anything. This time.

  The rest of the day went by surprisingly fast, and when I checked the clock on his dashboard during the ride home, it was hard to believe we’d put in a solid eight hours. But Huck’s work was never done, which I realized when we got back to the compound, and he drove straight to the warehouse.

  “Come on.” He offered me his hand to help me down from the truck. “I need to check on the plants.”

  The door to the warehouse was secured with another pin code and sitting just inside were two men with guns resting in their laps. When they saw me with Huck, they nodded, resuming the business of scrolling on their phones.

  The smell was the first thing to hit me. It was potent. Fresh and unmistakably weed. The building was large, and all I could see were rows and rows of green gold. Huge oscillating fans and light fixtures hung from the ceiling, replicating the wind and sun the plants required to grow. While it was at least ninety degrees outside, the low rumble of an air conditioner cooled the building to what felt like seventy. It was also more humid than the dry desert air outside, and I couldn’t imagine the amount of work or knowledge it took to maintain this place.

  “You really grow all of this?” I asked as I trailed after Huck.

  “I mostly breed,” he rumbled. “The other guys do the grunt work. Rotating, feeding, watering. But I still have to check the crops to see if we need any adjustments.”

  As he spoke, he examined several of the plants, kneeling to rotate them. He used his senses while he worked, smelling, touching, studying. I didn’t know what it was he saw, but when he walked back to the front by the guards, he grabbed a clipboard from the wall and jotted down his notes. There was a quick conversation with the guards as Huck instructed them to call Kodiak and make the adjustments. And just like that, we were on our way again.

  Back at the house, Huck kicked off his boots, and I did the same with my sneakers, noting how filthy I was. I needed a shower, but my curiosity left me lingering in the kitchen, waiting to see what he’d do next.

  “So this is all you guys do?” I sat down at the kitchen table while he poured two glasses of water and brought me one. “You just work and grow weed, and that’s it?”

  “What did you expect?” His lip tilted at the corner. “Murder and mayhem?”

  “Something like that.” I shrugged.

  “It’s mostly quiet around here,” he answered vaguely. “If shit goes down, it doesn’t happen at the compound. That’s a hard and fast law in the club. The guys keep their wives and kids here, so if you’re wondering if you’re safe, I can tell you there isn’t a single place in this world where you’d be more secure.”

  “Okay.”

  Silence descended upon us, and my cheeks heated as I wondered what was on his mind. Was he still thinking about this afternoon? Had my reactions been normal? I didn’t know the answers to these questions, and it left me feeling off balance.

  I didn’t know anything about normal. Wanting someone was a completely foreign concept for me. Even if it was natural, I worried I’d done it wrong. I didn’t know how to just relax and let go. But Huck had a way of making it all okay when his hands were on my body, and everything felt so damn good.

  In my mind, I knew I’d try having sex with someone someday, but it had always been a nameless face. A mechanical action. I would lay there while he fucked me sweetly. That image didn’t come close to what happened today. Huck didn’t even penetrate my body, but he penetrated my mind. Nothing about this afternoon was mechanical or routine. I was a slave to the chemical high he provided, and I wanted more.

  His gaze lingered on my face as tension bloomed between us. He’d taken nothing from me today. He’d asked for nothing. Secretly, I wanted him to ache for it. I wanted to watch him unravel as he lost himself to the pleasure of what I could do for him.

  “Huck—”

  “You should go wash up,” he interjected. “I’ll get
dinner started.”

  My tongue darted out to wet my dry lips, and his eyes flared. I was familiar enough with that expression to know he wanted me. But for whatever reason, he was still holding himself back. As I walked down the hall, paranoia invaded my thoughts. He couldn’t know about my past, could he? Did he know I was the toy all the other men had used up and tossed aside?

  My eyes stung as I stood beneath the scalding heat of the shower. It wasn’t really necessary, but I scrubbed my whole body twice. It made no difference, and I knew it wouldn’t. No matter how many times I scrubbed it, I’d never wash away the past.

  When I finished, I wiped away the steam in the mirror and stared at myself. I felt empty and alone. It always came back to the surface. My self-worth was entirely tied up in the way I looked. I’d learned from a young age it was the only thing that mattered, and once I had, I’d brandished my appearance like a weapon. But internally, it felt like a curse to have a body men coveted. I often thought that if I didn’t, I would have been gifted with something else. Maybe I’d be appreciated for my mind, or my talents, or anything other than a beauty that would eventually desert me.

  When Huck looked at me, he wasn’t impressed by the clothes or makeup or all the efforts that usually paid off with other men. For that reason, I decided not to bother with any of it when I walked out of the bathroom. My face was clean from makeup, hair tied into a messy topknot. I draped a silky robe over my nude body and cinched it at the waist.

  Something had shifted in me today, and I didn’t know exactly what it was. But when I walked down the hall and Huck’s gaze landed on me, it wasn’t approval I needed. It was acceptance. His eyes were dark and hot as they swept over my frame, pausing to linger on my face.

  “No makeup.” I shrugged.

  “You never needed it to begin with,” he answered gruffly.

  I sat down at the kitchen table and watched him cook. Whatever it was smelled delicious, and I was pleasantly surprised when he dished it up.

  “Alfredo?” I examined the dish as he poured me a glass of wine. It was a brand I drank often, and I hadn’t seen it in the house until now.

  “How much did Trouble tell you about me?” My nails bit into my palm as he sat down across from me.

  He refused to make eye contact as he stuck his fork into the pasta. “She hung out with you for over a year, so she told me a fair bit.”

  “And why was this important?” I gestured to the wine and pasta. “Why did it matter what I liked to eat or drink?”

  He took a bite, choosing to ignore me. It was a simple question, but the rigid set of his body told me otherwise. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, and it only cemented my determination.

  “What else do you know about me?” I demanded. “Who else did you recruit to spy on me?”

  As he took another bite, my frustration took root as I dissected the words he wouldn’t say. He had more information on me than I ever could have known. The demon who lived inside me didn’t like that. She didn’t like being exposed, and his silence was dousing her temper in kerosene.

  “Answer me.” My voice took on a life of its own. Heat licked at every surface of my flesh as my breathing accelerated. The spiral had started, and I couldn’t stop it. Huck must have noticed. He’d seen it happen once before when Lucian hurt my sister, but he wasn’t doing anything to stop it. He wasn’t even trying. My head felt like it was going to implode. Rage simmered inside the cauldron of my heart, quiet and calm before the tidal wave of fire.

  “Tell me, Huck.” My voice cut through the vacant silence. “Tell me all the dirty, sordid details you collected about my life.”

  His fork clattered to the plate as he finally turned to look at me. And he must have known it was the wrong choice. He must have known his words would provoke me.

  “Everything,” he said. “I know every goddamned thing there is to know about you, Birdie. Except for what’s in your mind. Those are the only secrets you can ever keep from me.”

  Blackness seeped into my vision, and I felt my control slipping away as I lunged at him. The demon was taking over. She became the master, and I the slave. Garbled words flew from my lips as I tried in vain to eliminate the threat. He couldn’t know my secrets. He couldn’t know my past. My fists pummeled anywhere I could reach, and Huck just took it. Every time I launched at him, I expected him to stop me, but he didn’t. He let me keep going, and it only infuriated me more.

  “Fight back!” I screamed. “Fight me, goddammit!”

  I was out of breath and full of hatred for myself when he finally gave in and took mercy on me. Before I could even make sense of it, he had me in a vise grip, completely locked down beneath the weight of his body.

  “Stop,” he commanded.

  But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. The demon wanted to have her way, and there was no negotiating with her. He should know that. If he claimed to know every filthy thing about me, he should know I was truly capable of anything.

  “Birdie.” His voice softened when he gripped my face in his fingers, trying to focus my attention on him. My breath was erratic and unsteady while my heart pounded so violently in my chest I thought I might die. And to my absolute horror, wet tears had begun to leak from my eyes.

  “Birdie,” he repeated. “Look at me.”

  Somehow, I managed to do that much. My vision was blurry and unfocused, but his face became clearer as I blinked away the pain.

  “You don’t get to know me,” I sobbed. “Not unless I say so.”

  I sounded like a child, and I felt pathetic for allowing my emotions to run wild again. I was humiliated and vulnerable, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.

  “Come here.” Huck dragged me across the table where he had me pinned. He cupped the back of my head and pressed it against his chest before he wrapped his arms around me. His heart echoed against my cheek, the steady rhythm lulling me into a motionless haze as adrenaline seeped from my system.

  The episodes always drained me, depriving me of energy for anything else until I recovered. But this time was different. This time, I was wrapped up in Huck. His scent, his warmth, and his strength enveloped me in a sense of security I’d never allowed myself to feel. We were intimately close, my ass planted on the table with my legs spread wide as his hips rested against my stomach. Worst of all, I’d wrapped my arms around his sturdy frame like he was my salvation. But I didn’t let go. I didn’t want to. And neither did he.

  He dragged his nose through my hair, breathing me in. And then he pressed his lips against the shell of my ear, repeating the process all over again as he kissed his way down my jaw. When he finally got to my lips, I was hungry and wet for him. Dinner was scattered on the floor around us, long forgotten as his fingers grazed the hem of the silk robe against my thigh. He pulled it aside, then repeated the action on the other leg. Leaning back, he studied my face before his eyes drifted to the part of me he’d exposed. I was open for him. Vulnerable to him. He could see everything, and I didn’t try to hide it. This was the broken, filthy part of me he needed to see. It was now or never. He could take it or leave it.

  His attention drifted up while he tugged at the loose fabric covering my breasts. When he finished, all that remained was the rope around my waist and the fabric pooling at my sides. I held my breath as I waited to see what he would do next. After everything that had just happened, more than anything, I wanted him to want me, yet I was terrified he couldn’t. It didn’t make sense, but it was undeniable. He’d seen me at my worst, and I wanted him to tell me it was okay. I wanted him to tell me it didn’t matter how fucked up I was, he wanted me anyway.

  Just like with everything else, Huck did it in his own way. He reached for the zipper on his jeans, slowly dragging it down while his eyes locked onto mine. They were filled with dark promises and threats that reflected in his voice.

  “Tell me to stop, Birdie. If you don’t, I’ll never let you go.”

  “Don’t stop.” I forced the words fro
m my raw throat. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  A low, feral growl rumbled from his chest as he tugged his briefs down. And there it was, his masculinity on full display. His cock hung heavy and thick between his thighs, a tiny drop of liquid glistening from the tip. He was swollen for me, and I knew the sheer size of him would hurt, but I wanted him inside me. I wanted it so much my body physically ached for it.

  He gripped my thighs and yanked me forward as his fingers came to rest on my jaw, holding me in place while he assaulted me with his lips. He kissed me like he couldn’t stop, and I recognized that because I felt the same way. There was no sweet talk. No more asking permission. His dick nudged against me, smearing his pre-come into my pussy. My fingers curled into his hair, tugging as he spread me wider, opening me up to his hips.

  The dangerous game we were playing resonated somewhere in my mind when he started to push inside me, raw. There was nothing between us. It was reckless, and it was bliss. The fat head of his cock stretched me to the point of pain, and still, I chanted for more. I wasn’t satisfied until he buried himself deep with a sound so full of agony it would forever be burned into my mind.

  “Fuck me, Birdie,” he rasped. “You’re my goddamn heaven.”

  His hands came to rest under my ass, squeezing me as he pulled back and thrust forward again. I looked up at him in fascination as his eyes rolled back and his mouth grew slack. He was drugged, high on me, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  In and out, he thrust, over and over again. He fucked me like a beast, a slave to his own demon at that moment. His hands skated over my body in worship, touching and admiring every curve and every soft patch of skin he found. One blissful sensation melted into another as he sucked my nipples into his mouth. Tugged on my hair. Branded my skin with his teeth and his lips. I held onto him for dear life, too lost in the sensations exploding in my body like fireworks. It hurt, and it healed me. I’d never felt such pain and pleasure together, and I couldn’t string together a logical thought. I just kept begging him for more. More. More. More.