Page 20 of Never Fall for an Angel

Her eyes lock with mine, half-lidded and hazy and so fucking pretty, shining in the dim lights through the front window.

“Do you really have a thing for Bailey?”

To be honest, her older sister is beautiful, but I’ve never seen her that way. I did my part, letting her think so, and even playing into the role a little bit to get closer, but it was just that. A role I was meant to fill.

Now that she’s flown off to New Orleans and found a decent man, that ship has sailed. Not that I’m not happy about it.

One thing about working for the FBI is they will use whoever they have to, to get what they’re after. Me. Bailey. Fuck, they’d use Mila if they thought they could.

I’ve done what I can to protect her from that in the last three years, but it’s times like these that make me forget the job I’mhere to do, and how easy it would be to forget about it all, just for a little while.

“And if I said I never have?”

Her hand rests over mine on the center console, her fingers soft and delicate against my rough and calloused ones. She feels so good. So soft and warm. My cock throbs with the need to bury myself inside her and not come up for fucking days until she’s mine.

“And me?” she breathes. “If I asked you if you had a thing for me, would you tell the truth?”

“The truth?” I chuckle darkly. “The truth is a dangerous thing, little devil.”

“Thank you for saving me.”

She leans forward, pressing her lips to my cheek. She pauses, only an inch from my face, and time stands still when she turns her eyes to mine. I meet her gaze, both of us dangling on the edge of a cliff neither of us is prepared to climb out of.

For a year, I’ve been dreaming of the way she tasted, and now she’s dangling it in front of me like a caged animal.

“Mila.”

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and my cock pulses.

Fuck me. What the fuck am I doing?

“Go inside.”

She pauses, and I swear I almost say fuck it and pull her into my lap when I see the disappointment flood her gaze.

Temptation never looked so fucking sweet.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She did everything right. And that’s the fucking problem.

I reach up, brushing my knuckles down the side of her face, but she turns away from me, her cheeks burning red under my hand.

Carefully, she falls back in her seat, refusing to look at me. When she reaches for the door, something hot and unpleasant settles in my chest.

“Mila.”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

MILA

LA, July, 2 Years Ago

My mother keeps trying to whore me out like a prized breeder pig.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Just pissed off.

That’s how life is for women in our world. You’re to marry who they want because it’s good for the family. Connections are formed, and business booms.

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