Page 5 of Sugar Coated

So many men dead because of me, but that wasn’t what nagged at me. No, that honor belonged to Mike himself.

Once we’re on the road, Fang reached over the center console to grab my hand once again, and I let him. He acted like we always did this, like I’d spent countless days with him in his car and this was simply what we did, when in reality it was the opposite.

Fang didn’t really know me, and I didn’t really know him. We were strangers, basically, and yet that didn’t stop him from acting like I belonged to him—and it certainly didn’t stop me from agreeing I would be his princess the last time we saw each other.

The hand he held onto was my left, and he was careful enough to hold onto it gently. I wore a glove over it, so although it might look like I still had all of my fingers, those who knew me knew the truth.

Neither one of us said a thing as we drove to his place, the silence stretching on for miles. It was only when we were safe in the top floor of his building, only when he sat me down on his couch and got me some water, that he finally spoke.

“Princess, when Mike called me, I expected the worst.” Fang sat down beside me, close enough our thighs touched. He didn’t seem to mind the closeness, which was good, because neither did I. Not after everything.

I said nothing as I worked on pulling off the glove and exposing my left hand to the dim light of the wide-open room. Missing most of my pinky and ring fingers, it was a reminder ofeverything I went through, even if I did it to myself—something that Fang figured out on his own.

“I thought we would race in and find you dead. Most people don’t get lucky after one kidnapping, let alone two.” His chest let out a long, rough breath. “I’ve never been gladder to be wrong.” Fang’s arm slid around me, and the next thing I knew, he pulled me onto his lap, where he held onto me tightly.

My gaze unhurriedly lifted to Fang’s face, studying the spray of bright red on his skin, the blood smearing his mouth. Right then, he reminded me of an animal, a beast that didn’t mind getting its claws—or fangs—dirty in the blood of its enemies.

And, God help me, I really did think it was hot.

“How did Mike know where I was?” I asked quietly. When I’d called him, after my Devil had taken me and then raced out of that house like a bat out of hell, he hadn’t answered. I’d thought maybe he was sleeping.

How did he know where I was after I got taken?

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask him. That’s something you’ll have to ask the big guy yourself, once he gets here.” Fang’s chest hummed at that, as if he suddenly turned thoughtful. “I assume he’ll come here, anyway. I would if I were him, to make sure you’re all right. Mike and I have never really sat down and had any conversations, but he doesn’t seem like the talkative type. You’d probably get more out of him.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Sometimes no. He’s—he tried to say I’m just a job.” And, even though it’s ridiculous, hearing it out loud really did make me hurt inside.

“Oh, Princess, I doubt you’re just a job to either of them.” Either of them, meaning Mike and… Kieran? “From the moment I saw that cotton candy hair of yours, I knew there was no way in hell you could ever be just a job, let alonejustanything.”

I gave him a sly smile. “You know, for someone who likes to use the silver fangs in his mouth to tear people apart, you’re actually kind of sweet.”

“I am a man of many layers, like—”

“An onion?”

Fang chuckled at that. “I was going to go with something like cake, to better match your sweetness.”

“I’m not so sweet.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But the sounds you make when you’re unravelling definitely are.” The blunt way he said it made my thighs clench a bit, something he surely felt since I was sitting on his lap.

I spoke softly, “When you said you like to bite, I didn’t think you meant it like that. You’re lucky you weren’t shot.”

“These teeth,” Fang paused as he smirked and flashed them at me, “have more than one use, Princess. They can mark your pretty skin just as easily as they can tear someone apart. I’ve found that men with guns get cocky—they think they hold all the cards, especially when they don’t see a weapon in my hands. The last thing they think you’ll do is charge at them.”

“You were fast. I didn’t know you could move like that.”

“A lifetime of learning to be faster than men with guns. Now—” His hold around my body tightened for a few seconds, then loosened. “—as much as I’d love to show you just how thankful I am that you’re safe, I’d hate to stain that hair with blood. Let me go wash this stuff off.”

I slid off Fang’s lap, and he got to his feet, waiting a moment before he added, “Unless you’d like to join me in the shower?” An offer to do more than clean myself off, I knew.

And, as much as I’d like to join him—if the situation were different, I wouldn’t hesitate—I couldn’t. Yes, I would love to wash off the stank of my kidnappers, but at the same time,before I’d been taken, I was with my Devil, and I wasn’t quite ready to wash the remnants of him off me yet.

I wanted him with me for as long as possible.

I stood up and met Fang’s silver stare. “I think maybe I just want to lay down. Do you have any clothes I could borrow?” The ones I currently wore weren’t the comfiest; you didn’t dress for a college party to be comfy. You dressed to look sexy. Most of the time the two did not coexist.

The warm grin Fang gave me after that told me enough. “Anything that is mine is yours. Let me find a few things for you.” He wandered over to the area of his loft that was his bedroom, pulling open a few drawers of his dresser as he searched for something to give me.

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