Page 116
Something light before I took her apart again the way I was already planning to.
My jaw locked in disappointment, and I barely held in a growl. Ryder caught it and grinned victoriously.
He pushed off the doorframe and straightened. “One drink,” he said. “You show your face…and hers. You take her home. Everyone lives.”
I met his eyes, and he winked at me.
There it was.
Ryder was making sure that I was keeping occupied and not doing anything about the murderous urges still living under my skin thanks to the pulses.
That was fair. I couldn’t afford to do anything in front of Sienna. I’d been on edge all day as it was, checking the basement door three times, needing the reminder that it was locked and she wasn’t going to find anything out until I was ready for her to.
“One drink,” I said, pinning him with a look so he would know I really meant that. “And if you get too drunk, I’m telling Babs just to put you out back.”
Ryder’s grin came back, smug and satisfied. “That’s the spirit.”
I turned back to Sienna, the sharp edge in me softening despite the tension buzzing under my skin. Her hair had fallen loose, blonde strands clinging to her flushed cheeks and neck, framing those wide eyes that I was obsessed with. Her lips were swollen and pink, and fuck, she looked wrecked in the best way, vulnerable and fucking beautiful.
Lust surged through me like a shot of whiskey straight to the blood, flooding my veins and settling heavy in my cock as I drank her in.
Mine.
Every broken, perfect piece of her.
Before I could go too far down that line of thinking, I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Hey,” I said quietly. “You okay with going out?”
Her eyes searched my face, and a small, wicked smirk crossed her lips. “A mechanical bull? That’s just what I need,” she said lightly. “Another ride.”
Fuck. My grip tightened on her thigh under the table, and her breath hitched, those emerald eyes darkening as she felt the possession in my touch. She leaned forward, her voice dropping to that husky tease that drove me insane. “Think you can handle watching me on it, Hayes? Or will you drag me off before I even get started?”
I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip, thinking of how I was going to smear my cum all over it the first chance I got. “Try me, baby. I dare you.”
Ryder cleared his throat loudly. “All right, lovebirds. As fascinating as whatever this has been, we’re on a schedule. The bar’s not gonna celebrate itself.”
I growled low in my chest, and Ryder laughed behind me. I’d forgotten he was still there.
Carefully, I slipped an arm around Sienna and helped her down from the table, keeping the blanket snug around her so he couldn’t see anything. She wobbled just a little, and my grip tightened instantly, my body angling to shield her without thinking.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured.
We passed Ryder on the way out, looking far too pleased with himself.
I paused beside him and leaned in close enough that only he could hear me. “Next time you interrupt me,” I murmured, letting every ounce of my darkness bleed through, “I’ll rip your fucking tongue out and feed it to you while you choke on it.”
Ryder’s grin didn’t falter, the cocky bastard. “Worth it.”
I sighed and steered Sienna toward the door, already counting the minutes until I had her alone again.
SIENNA
Ryder hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that fixing the mechanical bull constituted a religious event. The Hollow was packed, every inch of space alive with movement and noise. People pressed in shoulder to shoulder, with the floorboards complaining underfoot while the music blared overhead. Half of Blackwood seemed to be yelling greetings at Ryder and Sterling as we pushed our way inside.
I kept my chin up and my expression neutral, refusing to think about the fact that I’d let Sterling fuck me on a—nope. I’m not thinking about that…not here. And certainly not in these jeans. I didn’t need to ruin another pair today.
A loud, triumphant whoop cut through the bar, and I turned just in time to see Hattie riding the mechanical bull set up on the far side of the room. It was a massive, glossy contraption perched on a padded platform like some strange, snorting idol. I’d only ever seen them on television or in movies, never in person, and definitely not in a place like this, where people circled it with drinks in their hands.
Hattie’s red hair was its usual frizzy halo, her glasses sat slightly askew while still magnifying her wide, delighted eyes, and her unapologetically bright pink lipstick was already smeared well past the lines as she grinned, one hand gripping the rope and the other thrown high in the air.
