Page 68 of Dance with the Devil

“The spot over my heart has always been empty,” he says, lifting his hand to stroke my cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb. “That’s because it was meant for you, butterfly. For the person I gave my heart to.”

Now, really? How can you expect him to say that in his deep, gravelly voice, his fingers roaming over my cheek, his head pillowed on his arm as he watches me heavy-lidded eyes?

I scoot closer, cupping his face in my hand. His lips part, and I kiss him at the same time as I move so that I’m nearly on top of him.

For all his blustering before that we needed sleep, that we could fuck later, he’s not resisting me at all as he flops onto his back, letting me spread out on top of him. I bend my head, tonguing his nipple before rubbing my cheek against his butterfly tat.

Then, because I still haven’t had the chance to see what it was like to suck a cock for myself, I start to shimmy down the length of his body.

I’m just about to fit myself in the cradle of his legs when he goes still. The anticipatory look on his face as he realized where I was heading is replaced by one of confusion, then, just as quickly, one of frustration.

“Don’t worry, babe,” I tease. “I might not know what I’m doing, but I didn’t know what I was doing when it came to fucking, either. Good thing for you I’m a quick learner.”

I nip his happy trail before reaching for the buttons on his jeans.

“Genevieve…”

“It’s okay,” I promise. “I mean, ifyouwant me to do this. If you’re tired?—”

“I’m always tired. That doesn’t mean I would reject what you’re offering me, but no. It’s just… didn’t you hear that?”

My hand hovers over his button. “Hear what?”

He doesn’t even get the chance to answer me because webothhear it.

“Gen! Genevieve Libellula! I know you’re in there.”

I gasp, and Cross closes his eyes. “Fucking hell. I thought he’d at least wait until tomorrow to start shit. I mean, I saw Savannah. Wouldn’t he rather be fucking his wife instead of stopping me from fucking mine.”

My girlish little heart goes pitter-pat when Cross mumbles that. Now, I know he’s not actually proposing to me. For a man in the life, it’s not as easy as that anyway. When a Sinner or a Dragonfly finds a woman that they don’t plan on letting go, things like marriage licenses and weddings are more… suggestion than anything else.

This man has a butterfly tattooed on his chest. With a thick black outline and the same detail work as his initial drawing, but dark pink wings that almost match the color I put in my hair the other day.

He removed his pants and fucked me on his motorcycle within minutes of seeing me grinding with another guy.

He told me he loves me…

Yeah. I’m his wife.

And it’s time my brother realizes that I stopped being the little girl he raised a long, long time ago.

TWENTY-FOUR

DAMIEN

GENEVIEVE

One bonus to being five years younger than Cross plus a professional ballerina, even if I’m a little rusty? I’m quick and I’m fast and I dance out of his reach before he can try to convince me that going downstairs and confronting Damien is probably not the smartest thing to do right now.

Of course it is. Wait? Me? Oh, no. Besides, with Damien bellowing like a wounded rhino out there, I should go see him before someone puts him out of his misery.

Main Street isn’t open after dark. I’m not too worried about Cross’s neighbors hearing my brother, but as annoyed as I am with him, I still care for him greatly. He’s not just my brother. He’s the head of the Dragonflies. He might have a truce with the Sinners, but what if some other enterprising gangster takes advantage of Damien being on Sinners turf, searching for me?

I know he’s not an idiot. If he’s here, odds are he either has Savannah or Vin with him.

Both, it turns out. Savannah is sitting in the front seat of Dame’s flashy red Maserati, with Vin’s legs up almost by his ears as the big guy is cramped into the back.

Damien is waiting outside of the studio, tapping his foot on the sidewalk as I struggle to get the door unlocked. By the time I do, Cross has caught up with me, but he knows better than to get involved as I march outside of his studio to confront Damien.

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