Page 34 of A Twisted Arrangement

After waking up at Matthias’s place, I knew I needed to blow off steam, or I’d hunt him down and massacre him. I’d been alone, hungover, wearing only his freaking shirt. The thing engulfed me like a dress, and I only had fuzzy memories of him changing me into it.

The graze of his rough knuckles, the prickle of his stubble against my neck. A shiver rolls through me, and I fire off three more perfect shots, hitting the target dead in the center.

He left a freaking note explaining he had to leave early for work and I shouldn’t worry.Hecontacted my office to let them know I wouldn’t be in. The anger sizzling in my veins right now is only a shadow of what I felt reading that note. The audacity to call my job. He may own the company, but I didn’t need my boss thinking I’m sleeping with him. I ignore the reasons I was drinking in the first place, shoving our kiss into the recesses of my mind and lining up my next shot.

I woke up to their doctor standing over me, IV in hand. The man had fear in his eyes, like if I didn’t let him proceed, he was the one who would suffer the consequences.

The note on the nightstand had me grinding my teeth.

Don’t be stubborn, Little Sparrow.

The IV drip did wonders for my aching head, and I hated to admit I was a little bit grateful Matthias had thought ahead. It didn’t last long when I had to do the walk of shame and Oliver was already standing outside waiting for me. He was smart enough to look away after a death glare from me.

The shooting range is hot, the concrete building meant to keep bullets in, but that means there’s barely any air circulation. I’d discarded my top hours ago, leaving me in just my sports bra and leggings. There’s no one here; I always rent out the entire place for the duration of my stay. I don’t think anyone’s currently plotting to kill me, but the odds aren’t zero. Not when my spot in the Order of Saints is still up for grabs. Of course, the most guaranteed way to take over for my family is to marry me, but if I’m dead, then there’s at least a spot to compete for. At this point, I may have to beg Damon to open up a few more spots just to take the pressure off me.

I reload my gun, the magazine clicking in place before lifting it again. My shoulders ache from the repeated motion, but I’m happy for the pain. It reminds me that even though it hurts, my body’s strong. Breathing in deeply, I let it out slowly and squeeze the trigger.

My shot goes a little too far to the right, and I have to recenter myself. Back straight, body loose but engaged, I focus down the barrel to where I want to hit.

“You look hot like that.”

I swing to the side, gun forward pointed directly at a smiling Matthias’s face.

“Are you kidding me! I could have killed you.”

He grips my hand still holding the gun at his chest and lowers it to my side. “Nah, you wouldn’t do that.”

Matthias steps into me, his heat radiating off him, and my already pounding heart feels like it’s about to crack through my rib cage. He slides his finger over my jaw and runs his thumb across my lip. “Or maybe you would?”

“Don’t try me.” One wrist caught in his, I push the other one against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

Smirking down at me, he says, “What? Is that how you treat the guy who came to rescue you last night?”

His heartbeat drums into my palm, the tempo rapidly increasing the longer we stand here. I search between his eyes, but there are no other signs of what he may be feeling.

My voice is too soft when I ask, “Why didn’t Oliver just take me home?”

The muscle in his jaw visibly ticks, and his fingers tighten before releasing. “I wasn’t about to let that happen.”

A thrill rolls down my spine, causing me to shiver. There’s something in the way he says it that has my brain short-circuiting.

I pause, unable to respond. His chest is twice as wide as mine, taking up my line of sight. Another crisp black shirt, black belt, and matching black leather shoes. I follow the line of his shoulder down to where his thick fingers wrap around my wrist, overlapping, making it look fragile in his touch, but it’s not worry that’s curling low and warming between my thighs.

“Why are you here?” Cutting off my thoughts, I beat down the growing heat rapidly filling my stomach and narrow my eyes at him.

Matthias steps closer until there’s barely an inch between us. He’s so close I can make out the specks of gold in his deep brown eyes.

He leans in, and his breath fans over my lips as he says, “Checking on you.”

“Why?” I scrunch up my nose.

He tilts his head slightly. “Do you remember what you asked for last night?”

“No.” I swallow, my throat thick. The air is charged around us, blocking out all other noise. The heartbeat under my palm sets the pace for mine. Suddenly, I don’t care about anything other than feeling his lips on mine.

“Let me remind you.” He leans in, closing the distance between our mouths, and I don’t fight the pull of his kiss. Embers he stoked the other night flame to life, like they’ve been waiting for this. For him.

His fingers trail up to my side, curling around the dip in my waist and holding me firmly in place. His thumb stroked the bottom edge of my sports bra until I’m close to begging for his touch.

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