I didn’t say a word as Deacon led me to a practically empty office. Except for the large desk in the middle and an oversized chair in front of it, there wasn’t anything remotely comfortable about the space. That didn’t stop him from guiding me in and motioning for me to lift my shirt.
Shaking my head, I held out my hand for the towel, but Deacon didn’t budge.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered. “So I can clean you up.”
I didn’t want to. But I also didn’t want my back to get infected, and I could feel the bite of glass still embedded into my skin. With a sigh, I turned around and lifted it just enough for him to see the damage.
His sharp intake of breath was the only thing I heard for almost a minute. Then he opened a drawer and slammed it shut again.
“Always you, Alice. You always were the one who got hurt. More than any of my sisters.”
“What can I say?” I bit out through the pain when he pulled a piece of glass from my shoulder. “I’m a menace to society.”
Deacon moved away for a moment, and then he pressed a wet cloth to my back, wiping away the blood as gently as he could. The entire time, my legs shook with a mix of anticipation and adrenaline and pain, all wrapped into one unpredictable combination.
When I gasped, either in pain or anxiety, he pulled away.
“Just finish it,” I practically whimpered.
He was there behind me again without saying a word, too close for comfort, with his tattoos and his ridiculous shirt, and the only thing I could think about was pushing him back against the desk and taking him into my mouth.
A fantasy that I really, really wanted to make happen. Especially with whatever craziness had just happened.
“You’re a menace, alright,” he grunted. “Just breathe.” His hand slid down my back almost teasingly, until I felt the sharp sting of glass still cutting into the tender skin that I’d almost forgotten about.
Breathing was easier said than done, but I tried. The bottle of vodka that the redhead offered sat on Deacon’s desk, unopened, beckoning for me to take a drink. But I couldn’t. Not and drive home when everything was said and done.
Shit.
My car was still locked on the side of the road, with a flat tire that I couldn’t change on my own because my spare was flat too.
“You gonna call Dom for a ride home?” His question surprised me, dragging me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see a flash of something dangerous in his eyes.
“What?”
“Your brother,” he prompted. I looked down, away from the intensity in his gaze. “The cop. You gonna call him and have big brother come to the rescue?”
He was moving his mouth, asking me something, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My heart was still racing, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, making it almost painful to even blink. “What?”
Deacon’s lip raised in a smile, and he lifted my chin until I had no choice but to meet his eyes again.
“Alice. Pay attention.”
He was so close.
Too close.
Damn, Deacon smelled delicious.
Almost unconsciously, I bit my lip. His eyes flashed with warning, but that wasn’t all.
“Don’t.” His voice rolled over me, warm and inviting, even if his words warned me away. “I don’t play games, Alice. Not the kind you’re wanting to play. You’re in shock. You don’t want me. I’m not nice. I’m not a gentleman. I’ll take everything you give and leave nothing for the lucky bastard that comes after me.”
I stepped away from him, shaking my head slightly to clear away the fog his words brought with them. The door to his office was right there. And on the other side was a room full of men who’d give me a phone to call my brother. To go home. But that’s not what I wanted.
Still facing the door, I turned and caught him staring at my ass, with hunger in his eyes.
“I don’t play those kinds of games, Deacon. I’m not a little girl. I don’t need my big brother to come to my rescue. Not anymore. And I know exactly what I want.”
I turned the lock.
3 Deacon
Alice Ortiz. If I said I'd never thought about her while I was overseas, I’d be lying. I thought about a lot of the girls I went to school with while I was over there. But I’d never had Alice. Never tasted her lips or had her body pressed against mine. I never knew her well enough to make a move. Not only that, but she was a friend’s little sister.
Still, she was standing in front of me, in my world, telling me point blank that she wanted me. Even after I’d told her the truth. I wouldn’t be her gentleman. I wouldn’t be sweet. I wouldn’t be anything but rough. I wasn’t good for her.
“No.” I shook my head. “I told you. Just… no.”
Her brown eyes narrowed, and I could have sworn they filled with tears momentarily. Then she brushed her long hair out of her face and stepped forward.
“Are you telling me that you don’t want me, Deacon? Or are you telling me that you don’t want to be gentle?”
I watched as she picked up the bottle of Tito’s that Cherry handed her in the bar and almost groaned. Alice expertly tilted the bottle back, ignoring the pour spout it held, and her neck convulsed as she swallowed the crystal clear liquid down.
She didn’t even need a fuckin’ chaser. Right there, in the middle of my office, I almost came in my pants like a teenage boy.
Not even an hour had passed since there were bullets flying over her head, and Alice stood in my office, making me harder
