Page 21 of Dead Devil's Playground
Her pupils dilate, and for a moment, I think she might call my bluff. Part of me hopes she will. But Kai chooses that moment to return, cloth in hand.
"As much as I'd love to see where this goes," he drawls, "we've got trouble at the Playground."
I release her reluctantly, stepping back. "Get dressed," I order, my voice still rough with desire. "We need to move. Now."
She holds my gaze for a beat longer, something unreadable flickering in those blue depths, before nodding, snatching the cloth from Kai and heading for the bedroom. I watch her go, wondering what the hell I've just gotten myself into and knowing there's no going back now.
Kai's chuckle draws my attention. "Well," he says, looking far too pleased with himself while he pulls his clothes back on, "that was interesting."
I glare at him. "Fuck you."
Chapter 9
Kai
Ican'thelpbutgrin wider at Hudson's discomfort. "You're not my type. Besides, we've got work to do." I watch him adjust himself, the big man suddenly awkward as a teenager. It's fucking delicious. I've always known Ry would unravel him—she has that effect on everyone. Even me, after all this time.
The bedroom door opens and Ry emerges, transformed back into the deadly creature I know so well. Black jeans hugging those curves, hair pulled to the base of her head, severe and tight. I catch the way Hudson's breath hitches, the way Ry deliberately avoids his gaze.
"Let's go," she commands, voice steady but I hear what others don't. "Tell me what Oliver said."
I follow them to the elevator, watching the space between them—electric, dangerous. In the confined space, I observe how they both press against opposite walls, how Hudson stares straight ahead while Ry's fingers tap restlessly against her thigh.I've seen her kill men without blinking, but now her hands tremble.
I smile to myself.
"Oliver didn't say much," Hudson finally breaks the silence as the elevator descends. "Just that there was trouble at the Playground and we needed to get there immediately."
"That's not very fucking helpful," Ry mutters, still not looking at him.
I lean against the elevator wall, enjoying the tension radiating between them. "Maybe our pretty dancer just misses us already."
The look Ry shoots me could cut glass, but I just wink back at her. The elevator reaches the basement, and the doors slide open to reveal the private garage. My bike sits next to Rev's, both gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The SUV Hudson usually drives is parked in its designated spot.
I stride over to my motorcycle, swinging my leg over and starting the engine with a satisfying rumble. I flash a wicked grin at Hudson and Ry, already imagining them trapped together in the SUV after what just happened upstairs.
"See you there," I call over the engine's roar.
But before Hudson can shepherd Ry toward the SUV, she's moving—quick and determined—straight for me. She slides onto the bike behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist, her body pressing against my back.
I scoff, though I can't deny the pleasure of having her pressed against me. "I thought you two should have some quality time."
"Drive," she says, her voice brooking no argument.
Hudson curses, loud enough that I hear it over the engine. Then, to my surprise, instead of heading to the SUV, he grabs a spare helmet from the rack along with Ry's and stalks over to us.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demand as he shoves Ry's helmet onto her head, buckling it under her chin with quick, efficient movements.
"Making sure she doesn't crack her skull open," he growls, then swings his leg over Rev's bike.
I can't help but laugh. "Oh, Rev is going to fucking murder you when he finds out you touched his baby."
Hudson ignores me, starting the engine with practiced ease. The bike roars to life, and I can see the satisfaction on his face. Rev keeps that thing in pristine condition—it probably runs better than my own.
I’m still laughing as I kick up the stand and guide my bike toward the exit.
We tear out of the garage, the cool night air hitting us like a slap. Outside the Devil's Lair, chaos reigns—ambulances with flashing lights, police cars forming a perimeter, confused patrons milling about while being questioned by officers. We weave through the emergency vehicles, Ry's arms tightening around my waist as I take a corner too sharply.
Hudson follows close behind, handling Rev's bike with surprising skill. The streets blur as we speed toward the Playground, the city a kaleidoscope of neon and shadow. Ry's heartbeat pounds against my back, her grip never loosening. I can feel her tension, the barely contained rage vibrating through her. Whoever's behind this mess is going to wish they'd never been born. I've seen what Ry can do when she's truly angry, and it's both terrifying and fucking beautiful.
