Page 10 of Heroes & Hitmen
He laughs, the sound of it sending vibrations through my own chest, dark eyes glinting with determination and the golden flecks of his inner wolf pushing to the surface. “Okay, so what’s it gonna take to win you over, Miley Beckett?”
“You asking because you care, or because your ego can’t handle not being the most charming guy in the room?”
“Both.” He shrugs. “I’m a complex man.”
“That’s one word for it.”
“Ouch,” he gasps, pressing a hand to his broad chest and feigning injury. Then he laughs it off, shaking his head. “Seriously, though. No pickup lines, no bullshit. Just straight talk, what do you want out of tonight?”
That gets my attention. The playfulness doesn’t leave his tone, but there’s a hint of something sincere behind it– and dammit if that doesn’t make it worse. I hate that he’s growing on me, even a little bit.
I sip my drink slowly, eyes locked on his as I consider the question. I honestly can’t remember the last time someone asked me what I want. My entire life has been choreographed, every decision madefor me. From where I live, to the school I attend, to who I’ll take as a mate…
Elias Burke is the name of the mystery man who chose me. I was right about him being an Alpha, and I was also spot-on about the bad vibes I picked up. My father’s no saint, but he’s curated his public image so well that if you googled his name, you’d find him described as a philanthropist, a businessman, and a pillar of the community. That’s not the case with Elias Burke.
My research painted an ugly picture of my mate-to-be, who evidently flaunts his criminal activities as a form of intimidation. His pack resides in Detroit, Michigan– a nine hour drive from here– so there’s no way I’ll be finishing my college degree or popping back into town to visit my sisters. In less than two weeks, my life as I know it will be over, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop what’s already been set into motion.
Butthis,what I’m here for tonight? This I can control. This is one thing that’s my choice, and my choice alone.
So, what do I want?
My eyes move over Ares, assessing. Strong hands, thick, veiny forearms, a smirk that won’t quit… yeah, he’sexactlywhat I’m looking for tonight.
“Right now I just want to stop thinking so much,” I admit, and it feels like the first truth I’ve told since he sat down.
His lips twitch into a half-smile, but he doesn’t crack a joke. Not right away.
“I can help with that,” he growls, low and certain.
I arch a brow. “Confident.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“And if you’re terrible in bed?” I counter, feeling the corners of my mouth tug upward despite myself.
“Impossible,” he deadpans. “But if it helps, I come with references.”
I snort a wry laugh, rolling my eyes. “Disgusting.”
“But effective.”
He watches me intently, like he’s trying to figure out what makes me tick, and I like it more than I care to admit. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone’s full attention like this before; had someone look at me like they actuallyseeme. It’s unsettling and thrilling all at once.
The music around us blurs into background noise, the buzz of alcohol and chemistry humming between us. I down the last of my drink and set the glass on the bar.
“Fine, let’s go,” I say.
He blinks, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yeah?”
“Unless you’re all talk.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles, rising to stand and offering me his hand. “I’mneverjust talk.”
I ignore his hand and slide off the stool on my own, smoothing the hem of my short skirt down over my thighs. “We’ll see about that.”
Turning on a heel, I start for the rear exit of the bar, Ares falling into step beside me.
“Should I text my references now, or wait until morning?” he teases, glancing down at me with a grin that’s all wicked promise.
