Page 5 of Ghost's Angel

“What…” Mira speaks again, stronger this time. "What are you doing here?"

I turn to her, drinking in the sight of her. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "Making sure you're safe, angel."

"But how? How did you?—"

"You're done here," I cut her off, my tone brooking no argument. "You don't work here anymore."

Her shoulders slump slightly. "No, I suppose after this, he won't want?—"

"Fuck whathewants." I gesture at the lawyer still puking on the floor. "You deserve better than this shit."

The expression on her face is beyond sad. She wears a look of dejection, and I realize she's worried about losing the second income. My sweet, responsible, hardworking angel. She doesn't realize yet that she'll never have to worry about money again. That I'll lay the fucking world at her feet if she'll let me.

"Come on." I hold out my hand. "I'm taking you home."

She hesitates for just a moment before placing her delicate hand in mine. The contrast of her soft skin against my scarred, calloused mitts is stark.

I lead her out of the building, hyperaware of every point where her body brushes against mine. When we reach my bike, I pull out my helmet and place it on her head. I’ll have to buy her one of her own.

“I…um…I can walk," she protests weakly, but I can see the exhaustion written in every line of her body.

"Not happening, angel." The thought of her walking home alone, especially after what she just endured, makes my jaw clench.

I mount my bike before nodding to her. “Get on."

She bites her lower lip, considering, and all I can think about is how much I want to soothe that plump bottom lip with my tongue.

After what feels like an eternity, she carefully slides her leg over the seat. I help her settle behind me, showing her where to put her feet. When her arms tentatively circle my waist, every nerve ending in my body catches fire. She feels so right pressed to my back, like she was made to be there.

I rev the engine, enjoying the way she startles and tightens her grip. "Hold on tight, angel."

As we pull away from the curb, I'm already planning the painful lesson I'll be teaching that lawyer later. But for now, all I can focus on is the feel of my woman pressed against me where she belongs. Finally.

The familiar rumble of my bike beneath us takes on a different meaning with Mira's soft curves molded to my back. Her thighs press against mine as we take a corner, and I have to forcibly redirect my thoughts before my body betrays just how much I'm enjoying this.

There’s a reason no woman has ever ridden on the back of my bike. It's an unspoken rule—that space is reserved for one special woman—an ol’ lady. And having Mira there right now feels right in a way I can't explain. It just confirms what Ive known all along. That she’s the one.

At a stoplight, I rest one hand over hers where it's clutching my leather. Her fingers are ice cold. Carefully, I guide her hands under my cut, pressing them against the warmth of my abs. She makes a small sound of surprise that goes straight to my groin.

Yeah, this woman is dangerous to my self-control in ways no one—no bitch, no enemy, no brother has ever been.

The city lights blur past us as I take the long way to her apartment, selfishly prolonging the feeling of her wrapped around me. Each time we stop, she holds a little tighter, like she's getting more comfortable. More trusting.

Trust is not something that comes easily in my world. But somehow this slip of a girl has worked her way past every defense I've built over the years, making me want things I have no business wanting.

Making me want her.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, it settles in my chest like a foregone conclusion. Like maybe I've just been waiting for her all along.

I feel her shiver against my back and realize she's probably freezing. Time to get my angel somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere I can watch over her properly.

Somewhere she'll never have to worry about creeps like that soon-to-be-dead fucking lawyer again.

Because what she’s got now—whether she knows it yet or not—is someone to watch her six. Someone to protect her and care for her and give her everything she desires.

God help anyone who tries to stop me.

Chapter 4

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