When I turned, Bruno was there. Shirtsleeves rolled up his huge arms. Wearing a sneer that looked closer to a grimace than anything. Or constipation. Dealer’s choice, really.
Electricity danced along my spine, and I had an urge to look behind me. I wondered if I would find sea-blue eyes staring from the shadows, but Nikolai was already standing in the background.
The pretend-king clapped his hands together and the dance started.
As happy as it would’ve made me to toss casual insults Bruno’s way and float around him like a wasp picking apart its prey, I couldn’t afford to take this one easily.
I wasn’t sold on him being former special forces—he seemed like too much of an asshole to be a member of a team in any country. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to fight. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t wrap those huge hands around my throat and not let go in time.
Deaths in the ring were uncommon, but not unheard of.
Judging by the way he evil-eyed me while we circled each other, gauging distance, he wasn’t going to shed any tears if he accidentally ended up killing me.
The crowd grew restless waiting on one of us to make a move.
Sweat collected at my lower back, feeding off the anxiety coiled in my stomach.
Would it be too much to ask for him to just...jump straight into my elbow like the other guy had?
There.
Bruno took a dragging step, foot caught in a pile of sawdust, and I saw my opportunity.
Lunging forward, I threw out a lightning flash jab that hit him square in the eye. He grunted and stepped back, bringing his guard up to cover himself.
Good thing that’s what I was waiting on.
Once his arms were in front of his face, I ducked low, twisting my body as I delivered three heavy hits to his midsection. Spittle flew from his mouth and his knee came up. I was already dancing out of reach to the encouraging roar around us.
“Queen Bitch! Queen Bitch!”
I was almost smiling before he started advancing, slowly but surely boxing me in with slow, measured steps. His fist flew and I backpedaled to create some distance.
It wasn’t enough.
I put my arm in the way and nearly lost all feeling in it when his punch connected.
A pained gasp ripped from my throat and I shuffled away, trying to shake out the pins and needles traveling up and down my arm.
His grin was malicious when he came for me again.
I clenched my jaw. Balled up all the will in my body. Shaped it into a suit of armor I was going to need to stay standing once he really started laying into me.
That was when a chemical smell reached my nose, distracting me when distraction was exactly what I couldn’t afford.
My focus slipped, and he saw it.
Bruno cocked his arm back in a haymaker that was going to knock my head clean off my shoulders. In that moment, the inevitability of it was so certain I could almost see my headless body dropping to its knees and falling over.
That would be all she wrote.
My story would be over.
But before he could unleash his massive swing, the lights went off. All of them. At once.
People shrieked. Gasped. Shouted names that meant nothing to me while I lowered my center of gravity just in case that punch was still coming.
The air around me stirred with activity, and I barely managed to stay where I was as people started running around blindly.
“Enough!” Nikolai tried, voice raised over the chatter of nerves. For a moment, I could feel the order being gradually restored.
At least until flames leaped to life all around the room, burning bright red and orange. Consuming the leftover sawdust so quickly that it took no time at all for smoke to billow towards the ceiling while tongues of flame licked the rafters.
People screamed then.
Not me.
Ignoring the oppressive heat already filling the room, I started making my way towards the stage. Spotting Monster’s giant figure standing up there letting his fists fly wasn’t surprising. And I did my best to keep my focus on the briefcase near his feet as I approached.
He hopped down before I got there, leaving behind Nikolai who was clutching his bleeding nose and glaring with obvious hate. Nikolai reached for his belt and the fire popped and sizzled, rapidly consuming everything around us.
The supposedly big, scary Russian crawled to his feet and ran.
Monster stopped in my path, bare chest on display. Tanned skin and expansive tattoos all I could see and so very not good for my heart.
“You didn't listen,” he rumbled, chest rising and falling from the ass-whooping he’d been doling out. “I told you this entire thing was over.”
I moved to step around him, eyes on the briefcase just sitting there. Waiting for me to take it and get the hell out of this death trap. He acted like the fire wasn’t eating away at everything by the second.
I glared when he blocked my path. “You also claimed I was going to be yours. Since that isn't about to happen either, it looks like you're just talking out your ass, big man.”
His chest jumped with silent laughter. “Are you always so blunt?”
I wanted to shake him. “You do realize that we're in a lumber mill that's on fire? Right?”
“Of course. I poured the accelerant myself.”
That explained the smell.
I shook my head because I didn't know what else to do. He was hot. So stupidly hot I wanted to hop into his arms and see how a savage like him kissed.
But I was an eye on the prize kind of girl. Right now? The briefcase was the prize.
“Look, dude. Can we—”
“Monster. Not dude. Not big man. You know my name, try using it.”
Blood pressure. Skyrocketing.
I moved to step around him. Again.
He moved into my path. Again.
I was just taking a breath—readying to release an epic flood of insults—when he grasped my arm and threw me behind him.
The curses spilling from my tongue stalled out when I caught him reaching behind his back.
Heard the sharp, distinct report of gunfire.
Watched with my heart in my throat as Monster's muzzle flashed in return fire even while he jerked to the side.
Oh God.
Was he hit?
And why did that possibility make something inside me want to break?
Monster lowered his arm and I peeked around his massive back, eyes going wide when I saw Bruno dead on the floor. There was a neat hole in the middle of his forehead. Stomach pitching from side to side, my eyes tracked to the gun that had fallen at his side.
Which one of us had he been trying to shoot?
Did it matter?
The lack of sympathy constricting my chest said no. But I wasn't anyone's first choice for a role model, either.
All I knew was that a man was dead, and I only felt relief.
At least until I remembered seeing Monster catch a bullet.
Ignoring the fire that roared in my ears almost as loud as the ringing from the gunfire, I reached out and spun him around. Those same sparks from before danced down my fingers when I touched his warm, tanned skin. Then I traced my eyes frantically down his body, searching for a bullet hole.
“Relax, pussycat,” he rumbled in that voice that brushed across my senses in all the right ways. “I've survived worse than this.”
Monster held his arm out, showing me the red tear going across his upper arm.
I sucked a sharp breath between my teeth. He's had worse than this? Blood ran down his arm and dripped from his fingertips to stain the sawdust so that it resembled crimson sand.
The concern that rushed through me while he bled was all-consuming. I didn't know what to do with it.
So instead of expressing my worry like a normal person, I said, “Why didn't you come with backup? Are you crazy? He could've killed you!”
“Better me than you,” he said without missing a beat.
&n
bsp; My mouth fell open as I swept my gaze across his face. There was a pinch of pain scrunching his features, but not a trace of deceit.
This man was willing to put his life on the line?
For me?
Does not compute.
Again, I didn't know how to deal with the thundering of my heart and the tender, caring side that tried to blossom. I wasn't either of those things. So why did I want to take him back to my place and patch him up?
And possibly kiss him senseless?
Forget it, I’m blaming this on the concussion.
“You don't even know me,” I hissed, turning to grab the briefcase and tuck it safely beneath my arm.
“Only because you ran before,” he said, breathing down my neck.
The feel of him behind me—that huge body pressed against my back and ass—was a hundred times hotter than the flames.
The hum between my thighs intensified, urging me to lean into him. To finally take a moment and just...breathe, after all these long years spent moving and fighting and surviving.
As if he could sense my traitorous thoughts, I felt his hand on my hip.
A brand. A stamp. Making his mark on my skin as surely as a tattoo.
Monster channeled the fire all around us and sent it scorching through my veins, replacing everything in me with traces of him.
He wrapped himself around me until I was molded against all his hard edges. The swell of his cock brushed against my ass, and I couldn't tell what was more distracting.
The thick length of him?
The feel of his tongue traveling a leisurely path up the column of my throat?
Whichever one it was, my body approved. I shuddered against him, holding onto his granite forearm for balance.
His hands trailed my body. Dancing along my stomach. Ghosting over my breasts with a touch so delicate I arched into it. Closing over my neck as he turned my head sideways and brought my lips closer to his.
More wooden beams popped and splintered, falling to the ground with a deafening crash. The air grew thin while the blaze consumed its fuel, coating us both with a sheen of sweat and ash.
Except none of that held the same impact as his ocean-eyes on mine. His focus was so intense I wondered how I could breathe.
Monster didn't ask for permission as he squeezed my throat, trapping me in place.
But I didn't fight as his lips descended on mine.
When that first decadent brush of pillowy softness molded over my bottom lip, I forgot why I hadn’t jumped into his arms in the first place. He would’ve caught me. Those huge biceps could probably support an eighteen-wheeler.
My skinny ass wouldn’t be any trouble.
Then Monster deepened the kiss, growling against me, and I forgot everything else.
The fire? The reason this was a bad idea? The money clutched under my arm? They were all lost in the face of his earth-shattering kiss.
And that’s exactly what it was when his tongue bulldozed its way between my lips, gaining entry. Who needed a meteor to change the face of the continents and toss them across the globe? As his fingers tightened on my jaw and he licked the roof of my mouth—tasting like fury and sin—I was scattered.
A total and complete extinction event.
I moaned into his mouth, tongue dueling with his. Holy hell, the man knew how to kiss. He pressed in on me from all sides as if he was trying to devour me whole. To consume me from head to toe until we were one being.
It was savage. Invasive. Amazing.
He bit into my bottom lip and pulled, making me hiss. Not one to be outdone, I returned the favor. Caught his lip between my teeth at the same time my nails dug into his forearm, leaving red, raised scratches across his skin.
If the way I clawed at him hurt, I couldn’t tell.
He only groaned deep in his throat, huge chest vibrating. His other hand slid down my thigh, playing with the hem of my shorts before coming back up. When those thick digits slid inside the fabric at my hip, I jolted.
Could he feel the heat between my legs?
Did I want him to?
The undulation of my hips as his fingers slid beneath the fabric of my underwear said yes. And I knew that he was going to find me wet and ready for him when he got to the front of me.
Eventually.
At some point.
God, he was going so slow it was driving me fucking crazy.
“Stop playing around.” I bucked against his fingers, twisting my body to get his touch where I wanted it.
Monster chuckled, hand dropping back to my neck and holding me captive. He kept his fingers out of reach, and I wanted to scream in frustration.
“Come home with me,” he said, voice low and hungry. Deadly.
I blinked, and how out of control this thing was getting fell on me like cold droplets of rain, washing away the heat.
I stepped out of his reach and he let me. His hand fell to his side, and Monster stood there watching me as I shook my head and tried to reorient myself.
His kiss was already consuming enough. I touched my swollen lips with my fingers and knew I would dream about the way he had claimed them. About the way I wanted him to do so much more.
My whole body buzzed; a circuit left unchecked. Threatening to overload and explode everywhere without a care for who was caught in the blast. Still, I wanted to lean into him.
To wrap my arms around his neck and be lost.
Be...safe?
Get it together!
I couldn’t afford to be consumed.
I couldn’t afford to be out of control.
Without me, who would make sure Mom stayed safe and cared for? Without me, how would she go on?
No one cared about us anymore. Her family hadn’t wanted anything to do with her once the emotional tailspins from losing her memory started. Meanwhile, she was my only family.
Was I going to risk all that for some murderous savage who kissed like an angry god trapped on Earth and considered burning buildings down a good idea?
Fuck, why was I even standing here considering any of this instead of exiting stage left?
Monster stepped forward, eyes narrowed while they bounced back and forth between mine. He was trying to read me and coming up empty. That didn’t stop him from extending the hand not covered in blood.
“Whatever it is,” he said. “I can help you. Fuck, we can help each other. Neither of us gets jack shit if you run away again.”
Whatever he thought I could do for him, I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
Keeping my face carefully neutral, I stepped towards him.
Fit my hand in his much larger one.
Let him start to pull me closer.
His lips twitched, curving upwards, and I knew I had to act before he smiled. Being scowly and rude worked for him too well as it was. Smiling? I wouldn’t stand a chance. I would be smitten so hard people might think Cupid shoved his arrow where the sun doesn’t shine.
So before he could blow me away, I stood on my tiptoes. Placed my lips against the shell of his ear.
I said, “Better luck next time, Sinner.”
Then I did what everyone should do when they find themselves in the arms of burly giants with panty-dropping good looks and a penchant for brutality.
I kneed him right in the balls and ran like hell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monster
Fucking hell, her entire trailer was smaller than my bathroom.
How does she live like this? I wondered, turning sideways to squeeze between the kitchen and the bedroom.
I was already hunched in on myself to avoid hitting my head against the crumbling, moldy disaster of the ceiling. Bending lower didn't keep my shoulders from bumping into everything. I’d been on prison buses with more room than this.
Even calling the area I passed through a kitchen was a reach. There was a sink, barely big enough to fit an average dinner plate. A small mini-fridge sat on top of the peeling vinyl countertop.
I paused
there for a moment, fingers drifting over magnets stuck to the surface. Everything else I’d seen thus far told me nothing about the woman I was after that I didn’t already know. Her furniture was second-hand and worn, a mismatch of colors that said she didn’t give a damn how this place looked.
Which was strange on its own.
Weren’t women normally born with the interior design bug? When I was showing clients through houses, they were always the ones concerned with what color sofa would look best in the living room and whether or not the fucking table set they bought would fit with the style of the lighting.
As if anyone gives a shit as long as it works.
Then again, most women didn’t participate in underground fighting rings and carry snub-nosed pistols. Unless I was just running across the wrong type of women.
But the magnets were the first giveaway that there was something she cared about.
They were inelegant little things. The kind made of cheap plastic that you might find at a convenience store and grab just to have a memento. Some of them had the names of small towns I only recognized because I was a bit of a geography nut.
Recognizing how far away some of them were—one of the magnets bore a proud stamp of Oklahoma with a silly cartoon character—only made me more curious about the feisty woman they belonged to.
What the hell had she been doing in Oklahoma, or any of these other places for that matter?
And what brought her here?
Oakdale was thriving thanks to the efforts of the Sinners. We had a surprising number of tourists that came to see the town owned and run by bikers that didn’t bother staying in the shadows.
Those people stood out like sore thumbs, partially because they had no reason to hide. They weren’t up to anything. A large majority of them were here to relive their glory days. Back when they could climb across a motorcycle and lean forward without the paunch of their gut restricting their movement.
Even the number of women who traveled here by themselves was higher than people might expect. Bikers came with a bit of a reputation. That reputation often saw the bars and other hot spots flooded with thirsty chicks who wanted to be ridden hard and put up wet so they would have a fun story to tell when they went back to where they came from.
Monster: A Seven Sinners Novel Page 7