Page 35 of Cruel Savior

While I happened to think it was about the most perfect word in the English language, and appropriate in nearly every situation, it was not every day I heard it from her. Actually, never when she was younger, and it still sounded a little awkward. I liked it. And every time she said it, it made me think of sex.

I wanted to fuck her. When I hated her, I still dreamt of fucking her again. There was a lot to be said about a good hate fuck that you walked away from afterwards.

Only I didn’t hate her. Not anymore.

Today, everything I’d believed for a decade was turned on its head, and a lot of emotions had flowed between us.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I could actually fuck her out of my system.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?”

“Like what?” I asked, setting my food aside because my appetite had suddenly gone in a different direction.

Her eyes widened as if she could read my intent. “I don’t know. Like you want to hurt me or something.”

“Or something,” I answered as I stretched forward, grabbed the edge of her chair, and rolled it in my direction.

“What does that mean?” Her voice rose and sounded slightly panicked.

“I find the woman you’ve become both fascinating and infuriating. It’s an odd juxtaposition. But watching you work, your mind work, it’s brilliant. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”

“Two years of college and years of training go a long way.”

I took the plate out of her hand and set it on the nearby desk.

“Hey, I was eating that.”

“I’ll make you a new one after.”

Her mouth opened and closed with indecision again. I enjoyed seeing her get so flustered.

“After what?”

I pulled her out of her chair and into my arms. I wasn't sure how she would react when she learned my intentions, but there wasn't much I could do to hold back anymore. Despite everything, I craved her. She’d made some pretty big mistakes in her life, but I couldn't judge. When she’d first left, I'd thrown myself into the club, first as a prospect, and then a couple of years later as a full-fledged member. Wrath had not been as clean then as they were now. There was still a lot of drugs, guns and violence.

Under certain conditions I didn’t hesitate to take the law into my hands. My past was riddled with the blood of those I’d tortured to save others as well as the dead bodies of those that had committed such crimes they didn’t deserve to live.

So when I reached up and touched her face, I knew my hands were no cleaner than hers. In fact, I would bet that they were much dirtier.

I still didn’t know for sure if Turner was one of those men or not, but I didn’t have a good feeling and I usually went with my gut.

“What are you thinking about?” She raised her hand high and rubbed her fingers across my forehead. “When you get upset or unhappy it shows here. These lines get pronounced.”

I closed my eyes against the warmth of her touch and savored the intimacy of this. I wasn’t a cuddler or even much of a kisser.

When I wanted a woman, I generally got in, got us both off, and then got the hell out. I was creative enough for most not to notice, but I generally didn’t want a lot of touch.

Mandy’s touch, though. Fuck. I was going to drown in it. I was already imagining her soft fingers all over my body. My shoulders when she held on as I fucked into her…

My chest when I took her breath away…

And my dick. God damn that was going to be the best moment. When she wrapped that delicate hand around my shaft and pumped it…

My eyes blinked open, her soft face only inches from mine. Her lips slightly parted.

Her breathing sounded as ragged as mine.

“You’re not saying I look old, are you? We’re practically the same age.”

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