Page 19 of Hell on Wheels

Most girls would find that insulting. I didn’t. I’d known plenty of liars and thieves. The honesty was refreshing. Besides, who knew how many days I had left before Angel found me? And he would. He’d bring reckoning with him, and all the hard work and sacrifice up to this point would be for nothing.

I still didn’t know where Molly had been taken. A year of my life gone. The innocents caught and harmed.

All the evidence in the world wouldn’t matter when Angel took me to his playroom. His fury would drag on as he punished me, seeking his vengeance for the betrayal I was sure he had already figured out.

I’d been living on borrowed time.

Torin tried to warn me. He asked me if I wanted out, and I stubbornly refused. I believed I had the upper hand. That Angel didn’t suspect I worked with the FBI to bring him down. It was more than the drugs and the violence. His crimes extended to the sale of flesh, trafficking women in and out of the U.S. and Venezuela. From there, he sent them all over the world.

And somewhere, my sister Molly endured unimaginable suffering. She wasn’t the only one. How could I give up? Or walk away before I found where she’d been sent?

I couldn’t.

So one night? A single moment to be selfish? The freedom to be with who I wanted and consent to sex?

Hell yeah. I was all in.

Because tomorrow I would have to figure out how to smooth things over with Angel. Would he forgive me? Not without enduring his discipline.

I brushed those thoughts away, concentrating on the ruggedly handsome man whose hands had taken lives while also defending them. If I could choose someone to share my burdens with, it would be the scarred hero/bad boy whose blue eyes burned with an intensity I could feel in my bones.

Was it stupid to throw caution to the wind? I’d done things far more carelessly in my life.

My thighs clenched together, and I felt that tingle in my core, the building desire for this man to take what he wanted from me, and I wasn’t going to refuse. In silent answer, I shrugged off my jean jacket and tossed it aside, ignoring it as the fabric landed on the other end of the bar.

I had Flint’s undivided attention.

My tank top lifted over my head and soared through the air before landing on the jacket. Holding his rapt gaze, I unhooked my bra, allowing the silky material to whisper away from my skin.

I’d shimmied out of my jeans when he growled, his rough hands on my hips, and I lifted, my ass planted on the bar.

Flint’s deep blue eyes met mine as he ripped off his sunglasses and shoved them into a pocket in his leather jacket. My hands rose to his face as my fingers massaged the coarse hair of his goatee, lightly tracing his chin.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. There was something hypnotic about the way he stared into my soul—an urgency mixed with lust but also a mirrored pain I understood. I caught a glimpse of the man who almost lost his life, who struggled and fought to get where he was today.

The fierce protector and brutal biker. The battle-hardened Marine and the scarred man.

Flint was beautifully broken.

Part wounded hero and part bad boy with a dark past.

All wicked temptation.

“Fuck, little dove. You see me, don’t you?”

“Yes. Just like you see me.”

His lip curled up on one side. A dangerously sexy smile threatened to snatch my heart if I wasn’t careful. “I want to devour you, Lark. I don’t care if a single soul walks in here, but I’m not leaving this room until you scream my name at least once.”

Please follow through with that promise.

“Do it.”

Flint’s lips crashed down on mine the exact moment his hands slid around my waist and cupped the flesh of my ass. I jolted as he ripped my thong off and shoved the material into his front pocket.

His fingers dug into my bare skin as he groaned into my mouth. Not bothering to break the kiss, I slid the leather from his shoulders, revealing arms that rippled with hard muscle. Black ink covered both from wrists to biceps, the blue shirt he wore hiding the rest from view.

I gasped as his lips left mine, and he shrugged off the jacket. His shirt was stripped off with my help as my fingers traced the dips and contours of every abdominal in view. It was a sin to have a body like his, and I wondered if he’d fuck me with the same intensity that he seemed to struggle to hold back.

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