Page 25 of Angel

He drops his hand with a sigh, but it comes out more like a groan. He takes a step closer, and I can’t help but lean back. He’s doing that a lot tonight. And every time, my heart pounds.

“I don’t fucking care. I don’t give two shits about whatever it is you have going on or where the fuck you’re sneaking off to.” His eye twitches. “What I do care about is your club thinking I was the one who did that.” He points to my throbbing wounds. “You need to stop making this so damn difficult. I don’t want to be doing this any more than you do.” I breathe in his masculine scent… Mmm, cedarwood. And just when I think he’s finished scolding me… “Do you have a death wish or some shit? You’re gone for an hour and come back like this. Do you enjoy it?”

Ha! Do I enjoy it? As if getting smacked around by a man is enjoyable. “If you think this is something I do for fun, then you really are an asshole.”

He says nothing, only smirks as the porch wood vibrates beneath his boots. The broadness of his back is more evident as he slouches forward to lean on the railing. The muscles in his arms flex with each tightened grip. His cut, which is draped over his shoulders, appears as though it’s being stretched from the sheer width of the man. I’m also surprised the porch railings don’t crumble into little pieces under his palms.

I shake myself back to reality. “We need to discuss your guys,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Are you going to tell me what your club meeting was about?”

He turns his head to look at me. Goosebumps rise on my arms and along the back of my neck when the porch lights reflect off his emerald eyes. The right one peeks out from the dark strand that fell, and now kisses his brow, as it lies softly across the bridge of his nose to obscure his line of sight.

He sighs, then straightens to his mountain height before glancing around to make sure no one is within earshot. “Mouse is keeping it to himself, though he knows more than he’s letting on. Scorpion is maintaining ties with him and only him. But that’s all going to end. I’m the VP, not him.” He looks at the clubhouse as if he can see inside. “Everyone seems to have forgotten who runs this club now, especially Mouse.” The authority—the sternness—that laces his tone is almost frightening. But, for some bizarre reason, being with Venom right now is better than being with him.

“Well, I bet I could work him over.” I smirk, but then wince from the residual pain. Something that Venom notices.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, you know that?” If he only knew. I head down the stairs, my boots clunking against the wood. “Leaving so soon?”

I start walking away. “Yeah, but don’t worry, you’ll get to live another day—for now. I’m not going back to my club like this.”

He studies my face, like he’s trying to figure me out. Good luck with that one. “That’s probably a good idea, considering I can only imagine what they’d do to me. I’m sure your brothers don’t have the slightest fucking clue about the secret life you lead, am I right? I think your face and neck confirm it.”

My heels dig into the gravel below. “You’re not wrong.”

“So, where exactly is this place you’re going to stay at tonight?”

“For someone who doesn’t care, you sure are taking interest in my personal life.”

“Just curious where my little hang-around is going to be.”

“You’re so sweet with your concern,” I bite out sarcastically. “Not that it’s any of your business, but… I’ll be staying at a motel tonight.” It doesn’t sound very comforting, and I’d rather not.

He straightens, but his body’s stiff, as if my less-than-stellar room accommodations affect him somehow. “Jesus Christ, Angel, you can stay with me. And before you get any sick and twisted ideas, I already told you… I’m not interested.” Stay with Venom? Is he out of his mind? I would have to have gone completely insane for that to happen. The only way I would ever agree to that is if I were drugged and held against my will.

I think I’ll pass. “As tempting as that invitation sounds, I’m going to have to take a rain check—one lasting an eternity.” I unlock my car, getting ready to make my exit.

“You want your club asking questions? Because as soon as you check into a motel, they will. Did you forget they have us tracked?”

“Oh, but they’ll love the idea of me staying with you? How do you figure the logic behind that one?”

He shrugs, continuing his short, unwelcomed stroll over to me. “We’re playing house, remember? So, it makes sense.” His grin only serves to remind me how much I hate this tracker. “Besides, that means we’re supposed to be fucking each other’s brains out. Might make our cover more believable if I actually bring you back to my place,” he sneers, and I scrunch my face in disgust.

I sigh. “You so much as think about doing anything to me and I will cut you. I got weapons hidden in places you could only dream about.”

The side of his mouth turns up and his brow lifts. “Really?” His eyes roam over my breasts and linger there. And my nipples perk up. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“I thought you weren’t interested?” I tilt my head.

“I’m not, but I am a man. And you’re a beautiful woman. Would have to be blind not to notice.”

My body jolts back as if I’d been slapped for a second time. My mouth parts, and my eyelids flutter. I’ve never been called beautiful like that before. He doesn’t grin, or smirk, just burrows his stare into mine. The heat rises on my face, and it’s starting to get uncomfortable, because I shouldn’t like the way it sounds coming from his lips.

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m exhausted,” I say, my heart still racing.

“Agreed. I haven’t slept in a bed for quite a few nights, thanks to you and your club.” He tucks his beautifully inked hands inside his slim-fit jeans, which hug his frame just enough to showcase his rock-hard thighs.

“Yeah, and with good reason. You kidnapped, drugged, and locked up one of our girls, remember? I really hate that I have to keep reminding you all the time,” I spit, but he ignores me as he walks to a parked motorcycle I can only assume is his. “Where are you going?”

“It wasn’t me, not technically, and I’m sorry for it.” He drags out his statement in a whisper. Did he just apologize? I must have heard wrong. “And we’re going back to my place, right? So, let’s go.” My eyes dart from the clubhouse back to him, and now I’m officially confused. Then he smirks. “I don’t stay here. I have my own place.” Of course, he does. “You coming or not? Trust me, staying with me is safer than here.”

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