Page 72 of Ruined (The Knights of Ruin)

‘This isn’t about Annie and me, though, is it?’

I stiffened as she took a step forward, apparently not giving a shit that I was enraged and in pain and ready to smash something into oblivion.

She lifted a hand to touch my face. ‘This is about you losing it with Justin. About your dad.’

Her gaze was sharp, opening me up, and I grabbed her wrist to stop her from touching me before I could think better of it.

‘No.’ I tried to ignore the warmth of her skin and the race of her pulse beneath my fingers. ‘That shit’s got nothing to do with this.’

I was lying, though, and we both knew it.

I’d killed my Dad and that ghost wouldn’t ever fucking die.

Cat didn’t move. ‘You know what I thought back then, and that hasn’t changed. You shot your dad because you were trying to protect your mom. And you beat the hell out of Justin because you were trying to protect me. You’re a protector. That’s the kind of man you are, Smoke. That’s the kind of man you’ve always been. I thought you knew that.’ She took another step closer. ‘Being near Annie and me hasn’t bothered you before. So what’s changed? Is it Justin? Is it me?’

She was so close I could smell her familiar scent. It was getting me hard. The tear in her blouse didn’t help either, revealing the curves of her delicious tits.

Fuck, I wanted her so badly.

My grip tightened on her wrist and I felt her pulse begin to accelerate.

What had changed? I had. And she was the one who’d changed me. Being a friend was easy—there was a distance in that. But being more than a friend was different, and I hadn’t realised ’til now what that meant.

Justin had not only shown me the truth of what I felt for her, he’d also shown me the truth of what I was inside. I was violent. Possessive. Territorial. I wanted to make Cat mine in every way, and the thought of her even touching another man filled me with murderous rage.

She didn’t deserve that. Annie didn’t deserve it either. Cat needed a man who wasn’t controlling or jealous or demanding. And Annie needed a father figure who wouldn’t lose his temper and beat to death some asshole simply for touching his woman.

‘It doesn’t matter what’s changed.’ I stared down into her beautiful eyes. ‘Fact remains that me leaving is better for Annie, and that’s who you should be thinking about right now.’

An intense expression flickered across her face. ‘That’s not true. You leaving is not better.’

She put her free hand on my chest, the warmth of her touch seeping through my T-shirt, making me so fucking aware of exactly how far away she was from me and how much I wanted to close that distance. Making the pain that was ripping me apart even worse.

‘And what’s good for us is you staying here. Because you’re good for me, and what’s good for me is good for Annie—can’t you see that?’

I wanted to see it. I really did. But I couldn’t. Not when I’d never been good for anyone in my entire fucking life.

Unable to resist the urge to touch her, I let go her wrist and took her face between my hands, cupping her jaw. ‘I’ve made my decision. I’m sorry, kitten. This is how it is.’

Her mouth tightened, fury glowing in her eyes. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’

And before I could avoid her she rose up onto her toes and pressed her lips to mine. Kissing me.

I struggled not to respond. Every muscle in my body was tight with the need to grab her, push her down on the floor. Bury my aching cock in her tight little pussy, make all the pain and the rage disappear.

But that would only make things worse.

And yet Cat was obviously hell-bent on making this as hard for me as possible, because when I didn’t respond she pushed her tongue into my mouth, tasting me, kissing me as demandingly and as desperately as I’d ever kissed her.

It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.

She’d never been aggressive like this with me before, never been this hungry. Like she was suffocating and the only way to breathe was to put her mouth on mine.

My dick was like iron in my jeans, and I knew if I didn’t put a stop to this now I wouldn’t be able to. And then walking away from her would be next to impossible.

So I buried one hand in her hair and fisted it, trying to pull her head back. She resisted, making me pull harder, which had to hurt her, yet she didn’t make a sound when I finally managed to yank her away. Her eyes were huge and dark and full of rage, and I felt like my chest was made of nothing but broken glass.

‘You can’t leave,’ she said furiously, before I could get in a word. ‘I won’t let you.’

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