Page 47 of Moth to a Flame

Yes. Yes, I had one.

Push my meetings to later this morning. Check.

Drive down here next to Regan’s home, sit at the nearest internet café, and hack Brinestone’s systems. Get the names, phones, and addresses of the guards who work the nearest Sunday shift. Call one of them from my burner phone and bribe him with Cryptocurrency in exchange for his cooperation.

Some of it would go to his buddies, and I’d be able to go through their inspection on my way to meet one Bobby Cantrell on my visit there.

Done.

Next part was this. Come here, wait for Regan to be by herself and bare my soul to her. Show her who I really am. Claim her. Own her.

Tell her I’ll defend her from anyone and anything.

Except from myself.

Also done.

Then force my little lamb to accept this one, single truth.

She’s mine.

And that’s where I’m struggling.

I’m losing control over the situation. Over her.

I can’t have that.

“How did you know?” Her skin is electric beneath my fingers. Desire vibrates through her.

Her anger is incredibly loud.

And so. Fucking. Hot.

Years of denying myself of anything good, anything worth loving, come back with a vengeance. I need her so much that the civil side of me is slipping through my fingers.

There’s a door behind her that probably leads into the repair room.

“Is it locked?” I ask her.’

“Y-yes.”

“Unlock it.”

With shaky fingers, she does.

The handle lowers for me when I reach for it. I push the door open, gripping Regan’s neck so she won’t get away.

Fuck, my hand fits as if I was always meant to hold her like that.

Her body know that too. I drag her closer, then into the dark room, and she obeys me.

She, too, know she’s always been mine.

“Tell me.” Her mouth, though, that part of her continues to sass.

I like it. “Moth to a Flame.”

A gasp.

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