Page 48 of Unholy Obsession

That stopped me dead. “Hold up. You… do prison ministry?”

He nodded, all nonchalant.

I stared at him. “How come?”

“Because someone has to.”

I opened my mouth to make a joke—something sharp, something to keep my heart from doing that stupidflutterthing—but nothing came out.

Because this man—the one who makes me lose my mind, who makes me feel too much, who gets under my skin in a way no one else ever has—spends his time sitting with those the whole world has given up on.

And damn him, that makes it really hard to keep pretending these feelings I have for him aren’t like… scary real.

He grins at me now and my chest goes allflutter flutteragain. Plus, now that we’re at the club, I’m gonna get my reward for being a good girl all day.

Seriously, what the fuck? Who’s life did I just hijack, and when are they gonna want it back? Fuck that. I’m enjoying the hell out of it for now, and maybe, just maybe, I won’t give it up.

I smile up at Bane, bouncing on my toes like a kid about to be let loose in a candy store. “You ready for this?”

He slid the cloth mask on over his face right as he stepped out of the car, but I can still hear the devilish grin in his voice. “Are you?”

Bane is out to play.

“I was born ready,” I declare, looping my arm through his. “Come on. I wanna see everyone and show you off.”

Kit, the club’s door security, smirks as we approach. “Haven’t seen you in a while, Moira.”

I give him a wink, reaching up to pull the cherry lollipop from my mouth with a pop. “Miss me?”

“You know I did. Everyone’s been wondering when you’d finally drag your ass back here.”

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

Bane lets me pull him inside, though I know it’s more an illusion than anything. He allows me my excitement and indulges my bubbling, madcap energy as I take in the sight of my old haunt. The thrum of bass-heavy music vibrates beneath my heels, the scent of leather, sweat, and something sweet—maybe vanilla—swirling through the air. The club is alive tonight, bodies moving through dimly lit spaces, whispers of pleasure and command threading through the heat.

And there, in our usual corner, are my people.

“Marcus!” I screech, flinging myself at the broody bastard where he’s leaning against a leather chaise, a whiskey glass balanced in his hand. He must be done playing for the night.

He barely has time to put his drink down before I’ve thrown myself in his arms. “Jesus, Moira?—”

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!” I chant, kissing his scruffy cheek before sliding down. “Did you miss me?”

Marcus gives me his signature dry look, but there’s warmth in his eyes. “Club’s been too quiet without you.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I purr, spinning to find Caleb watching with an amused smile, arms crossed over his chest. “And you, Daddy dearest?”

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” I coo, skipping over to give him a hug. “Oh! I have someone for you to meet.”

I twirl back to Bane, who’s been standing like a predator in the shadows—still, watching, and waiting. His presence alone is enough to send shivers down my spine, his mask doing nothing to conceal the dark hunger in his eyes.

“Boys,” I say, pressing a hand to his broad chest. “This is Bane. My Dom.”My everything.I almost say that last part out loud but just barely manage to keep it inside.

I’m glad I do when Marcus and Caleb exchange a look, assessing. I feel the weight of their scrutiny like a physical thing, the way they take in Bane’s imposing frame, the mask, and his aura of complete and utter dominance.

And Bane? He simply inclines his head as if bestowing a royal favor. “Pleasure.”

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