Sinner's Passion: Fallen Souls MC

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Sinner's Passion: Fallen Souls MC Page 6

by April Lust


  All of which had been a really good plan. Until I just now realized that I wouldn’t be able to leave her side. I would be sleeping here tonight in some guest room upstairs. Probably right next to hers. Picturing her naked and hot, maybe bothered, maybe needy, maybe even touching herself, slipping her fingers between moist lips.

  How was I supposed to handle that?

  Jerk yourself off, my mind answered me.

  Unwillingly I admitted that that was exactly what was going to have to happen. I was going to have to pump my own cock until I came just so that I wouldn’t lose my fucking mind in this damn house.

  It was not encouraging me.

  Sighing, I decided that I was going to have to expedite this particular job. Finding the asshole who went after her that night seemed unlikely and I certainly wouldn’t be doing anything with that aspect anyway. That was on Ryder and the Dark Angels. Unfortunate, because I would have been much more comfortable dealing with that aspect.

  Thinking it over, I decided that there wasn’t a lot I could do on my end except for protect her. Which was all well and good, but maybe if I could make her feel safe again…maybe then she wouldn’t need a bodyguard. After all, there was a chance that this was a onetime incident.

  “Look, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” I said, forcing my voice to be even and not lustful as it had been earlier. “I’m here by orders that neither of us have a say in, right?”

  She gave me a glance out of the corner of her eye, but nodded.

  “So we should make the most of it.” I saw her eyebrows lift at that and realized how that might have come off given my previous comments. Don’t think about sex, don’t think about sex, I tried to convince myself, which of course wasn’t working. “What I mean is that I’m here. I’m here to protect you and I promise you that I won’t let anything happen to you so long as I am here. You’re safe with me.”

  For a second she looked like the little girl that Ryder spoke of, a child who needed protecting. Her blue eyes had grown large and shiny, her light blonde hair and soft curls making her look angelic. If I didn’t look down at the lovely curves that had my body raging, I could see the vulnerable girl who was scared of the bad things out there that were after her.

  It made me want to reach for her for the first time not in lust, but in comfort. Then the spell was broken.

  Her eyes steeled and narrowed at me. She tossed her hair over her shoulder expertly and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t need you here,” she told me haughtily, like she was the goddamned Queen of England. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you.”

  Anger flared in me and I snarled before I could think better of it, “Oh? Like you did last night, right?”

  Her whole body tensed and instantly I regretted the words, but then she spun on her heel and headed towards a flight of stairs. Frustrated, I followed after her, considering apologizing for my harsh reminder of what must have been terrifying for her the night before. Then she spoke again.

  “It’s hardly my fault that people adore me,” she told me over her shoulder as she moved to the first step of the large, spiraling staircase. “After all, most civilized people have good taste.”

  I snapped again. “Keep telling yourself that, princess.”

  The look she sent over her shoulder at me was a harsh glare that told me I had definitely struck a nerve earlier with that crappy movie comment. It sent a rush of satisfaction through me to know that I’d gotten to her, petty as it was.

  Huffing slightly, she told me, “I need to get ready. Unlike some people, I have places to be and things to do. Don’t disturb me.”

  Before she could take another step towards the second floor, I reached out and grabbed her, jerking her forcibly back to me. The tug was harder than I had intended and had her stumbling as she swiveled to face me. Her body was off balance as it collided with mine, my arms instinctively going to her all but bare hips in an effort to steady her. Her hands pressed against my shoulders for more stability and I found her chest pressed against mine, her breasts trying to flatten themselves against my hard muscles. Her lips were mere inches from my mouth and I had the intense urge to devour them, to see if they really tasted like cherries.

  “Get ready for what?” I ground out, because I needed to remind myself that I was her bodyguard, I was here to protect her. I needed to know these things, I needed to know what was going on or I couldn’t do my job. But damn did her body feel good pressed against mine, heat transferring quickly between us.

  She licked her lips, her eyes hazy with lust again. “I…” She swallowed, making me want to run my hand along the long column of her neck. “A party…” She was breathless as she spoke and I thought maybe the hammering I felt against my chest was her heart.

  The urge to close those last couple of inches between our mouths was so intense that I nearly did it.

  Then she jerked back away from me, regaining her balance and putting on her haughty face again. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m not going to let this whole,” she gestured wildly with one delicate hand, “thing change my life. I’m going to the party.”

  Shuddering, I took a moment, then bit out, “Fine. But I’m going with you. That’s my job and I’m going to do it right.”

  She paused then, and without looking back at me said, “If you insist. But you’re going to have to change, too, then. I have a reputation to keep and I refuse to be seen in public with someone dressed like that.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. There was no way in hell I was going to wear some damn monkey suit for her or anyone else.

  “Don’t worry,” she told me as she continued up the staircase. “I think I have something in your size.”

  I watched her ass the entire way up the stairs, desire burning within me right along with the indignant anger, as I imagined what those perfectly rounded cheeks would feel like being squeezed in my rough palms.

  This is going to be hell, I thought, and reluctantly stalked up the stairs.

  Chapter Five

  Renee

  I made him drive my car.

  We went round and round about how that was not part of his job description, that he was a bodyguard not a chauffeur, but really, what did I care? He was the same thing in my book—an employee was an employee. It didn’t matter if he was hired by me or by Uncle Ryder. The point was he was being paid to do a service, and at that moment, the service I required of him was to drive me to the damn party.

  In the end, I’d won through will and some sly logic spinning.

  “Well, I just fired my last driver,” I informed him, thinking of the young man from the previous night.

  Saber had rolled his eyes at me. He’d been on edge since his arrival, which, okay, was probably my fault, but that couldn’t be helped. I didn’t want him to be here for a multitude of reasons, and the fact that my uncle just refused to have him replaced with an alternative bodyguard was making me dislike him even more.

  And by dislike, I meant lusting after him at every turn. The man was gorgeous, as proven when I wrangled him into a white button-down shirt and a pair of dark black jeans. He refused to lose the steel toed boots, but I gave him that concession because it gave him a renegade look amidst a half civilized and quite sexy overall appearance.

  None of which I told him.

  “I don’t care,” he told me gruffly, fidgeting with the sleeves of his silky button-down shirt. I had been right; my male model ex had been a perfect fit. The shoulders, the muscular arms, the sculpted abs…it was kind of crazy how good a shape Saber was in. “Can’t you just hire some new guy?”

  I made a face. Yes, technically I could hire a new driver. In fact, it would be really easy since the company I usually found my employees through had already picked out someone new for me. They’d sent over his information and qualifications—along with a picture that showed a young, pleasant-looking man, if not smoking hot—for me to review and make my decision. If I vetoed him, they’d have a list of s
everal other choices, though I usually went with their first pick. They were good at this point at guessing not only my needs but my personal preferences, too.

  But now that I had Mr. Super Sexy Bodyguard at my disposal, I had decided to make good use of him.

  It wasn’t that I was hesitant to spend the money. I was rich; splurge whenever was my motto. Instead, it was this idea that I wanted to make his job more difficult, because then maybe he would ask to leave. If he asked to get the hell out of here, then Uncle Ryder wouldn’t make him stay, right?

  That was my hope, anyway. So when I learned that he was opposed to wearing something fancy for the party, I insisted that he do so. And when I figured out that he didn’t want to be my chauffer, I was determined to make him just that. Hell, I’d find a stupid little hat for him to wear if I thought I could actually get him to do it.

  “You want me to hire a new guy tonight?” I’d asked him, putting on my best shocked expression. Sometimes it really paid to be an actress. “His first trial run being right after I’ve just been attacked? How can you be so callous?”

  He’d narrowed his eyes at me then, just as dark and alluring as they’d ever been. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he was irritated with me, which just made a flush of satisfaction wash through me.

  “What’s the problem, exactly, with a new guy?” he asked me gruffly.

  A shiver of pleasure ran through me at the sound of his deep voice. I was finding myself increasingly attracted to that tone. It was suddenly all I wanted to hear. In fact, I wanted it whispered in my ear, dirty, lewd things coated in it.

  I couldn’t say why my body craved him so, but I had already decided that I wouldn’t give in. I didn’t care how suggestive he got or how solid his body was or how intense his eyes were. Screw him. Just not literally.

  “A new guy can’t be trusted,” I told him sweetly as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. As soon as I said it, it actually occurred to me that I had a very valid point. It made me feel a little better and gave me the extra push to keep going. “I have no idea who did this to me. He could be anyone. What if they send someone over and it turns out to be him?”

  I hadn’t meant to be quite that convincing. I just wanted to play with him and convince him to do what I wanted, but now that I’d actually voiced that far back thought, I realized that it was a fear that rang true for me. I was actually concerned that it could be him. It could be anyone. Someone at the party I was going to tonight. Someone who trimmed my hedges. Someone who cleaned my pool.

  I didn’t know the first thing about my assailant and that was such a terrifying notion that I suddenly didn’t want to go to the party anymore. I just wanted to wad myself up into a tiny ball and hide under the covers in my bed, waiting for the rest of the world to go away.

  There must have been something showing on my face because I watched as Saber’s expression softened. There was something almost tender about the way he was suddenly looking at me. Like he felt sorry for me.

  It bolstered my anger towards him and helped tamp down some of that lust.

  “It’s pretty unlikely that that’ll happen,” he told me softly, his voice surprisingly sweet for being so low. “They look pretty far into people’s background before hiring them for jobs like this.”

  I felt the sting of tears prick behind my eyes, because I was still scared and he was comforting me and it made me want to crawl into his arms instead of my bed just to let him hold me. Which was ridiculous and I wished my body and mind could figure out what the hell they wanted.

  Fighting back my tears, I folded my arms beneath my chest, pushing my breasts together. I was wearing a liquid midnight blue dress that went to my knees. It dipped low in the front, a halter dress that left my back exposed and my breasts trying their hardest to once again burst free. The material was silky and shimmery without being overly flashy like the one last night. It clung to me light a second skin, my curves feeling almost exposed by the thin, shear feeling fabric.

  “But it could be him,” I whispered, wishing I was still acting and that the fear wasn’t real.

  Saber pulled his full lips into a frown, then nodded. Even unhappy, distressed, his face was handsome in that rugged, I don’t give a shit kind of way. “Alright. I’ll drive. It’ll be easier to get out of there that way anyhow.”

  I should have felt a thrill of victory at having forced him into doing what was clearly not his job. Instead, I just felt relief at not having a stranger with me tonight. And then I felt angry at myself for feeling that way.

  What is wrong with me?

  We were in the car now—him sitting up front driving, me in the back like the movie star I was—and I was staring out the window, watching as the night lights passed by in quick succession that drew them across the dark sky like neon streaks. I hadn’t said anything since he’d agreed to drive and he had observed my own silence, making it his.

  Part of me really wanted to talk because it was better than being left alone with my own fearful thoughts, but I didn’t want to talk to him because I was worried. Worried that he would see the fear in me. Despite my earlier thoughts that he was a Neanderthal, the fact was that he seemed pretty perceptive.

  Saber Monroe, I thought, mulling his name around in my head. I pictured him the way I first saw him, dressed in that torn up shirt and those ripped jeans. The dark eyes and the silky, thick hair to match. The rippling muscles. It was amazing how different he looked now in clean clothing, that silky shirt and those dark jeans doing wonders to make him look James Bond good. Delicious. Good enough to eat. It was amazing what a change of clothing could do.

  But if I were being honest, it wasn’t the clothing that had me thinking about him. It was the way his skin felt on mine, the way his rough hands jerked me into his body. The way he looked at me like he wanted to eat me right then and there.

  Which was not an unpleasant thought.

  And therein lie the problem. I wanted him. My body craved him. He looked like something I wanted to run my hands all over and he spoke like the kind of man whose words I wanted to drown in. Even if he was kind of an ass.

  We pulled up to the club where the party was being hosted tonight. Maureen Fleece had reserved the entire club for the night, making sure that only those on her personal list got in. I, of course, was on that list, along with several other big names, including Carrie unfortunately. It wasn’t fair, but after last night, I disliked her even more. It wasn’t that it was her fault, honestly, but I would forever associate that attack with her house and her party and the snide remarks that had me running from the house as quickly as possible.

  “You can just drop me off here,” I told Saber, treating him like I would any other driver. I was so used to people just listening to me that I was trying the door where I expected him to be coming to a stop. Except that he didn’t come to a stop and the door was locked. Child safety, even. “Um, I said stop.”

  I caught his gaze in the rearview mirror. It was a mixture of annoyance and amusement, which must have been a feat honestly.

  “This isn’t funny! Let me out right now!” I jiggled the door handle again, but he just kept driving.

  “Nope, sorry, princess. Since I am both your driver and your bodyguard for the evening, you’re just going to have to go with me while I park.” I saw his smirk and fumed; I wanted to smack it off his face. “After all, as your bodyguard, I can’t exactly let you go into that club unprotected.”

  Oh, I see how it is!

  He probably had this planned all along. Give in to the whole chauffer thing only to catch me on something else later. Well, I’d figure out other ways to get under his skin.

  “Hope you have decent walking shoes,” he added just to harass me a little further.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course I didn’t have sensible shoes on. They were four-inch heels, damnit, and they looked spectacular on me, especially with this dress. But they were not really designed with walking of any kind in mind. They were
more for lounging about in chairs or tall stools. Maybe for just a little bit of dancing. And, of course, kinky fucking.

  But walking? I was going to hurt tomorrow.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I told him hotly, because I wouldn’t let him get the last word in.

  He just laughed at me, making me feel even angrier.

  He found a parking spot that wasn’t too far away from the club, though I still wasn’t keen on walking that far. Especially since the pavement wasn’t exactly red carpet nice. As we began the short trek back to the club, my heels kept catching in little cracks in the sidewalk or hitting the pieces that had jutted up from earthquakes and baking in the sun all day.

 

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