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“Have you killed before?”
“No.”
Her gaze fell to his mouth.
“Have you?” he asked her.
“Of course, not!”
“That’s adorable. Such a fast and emphatic denial. But you of all people should know that we can be pushed to take drastic actions. In the wrong circumstances, we can all be killers.”
Her long lashes flickered.
The limo slowed. He didn’t bother glancing out of the window. They weren’t at their destination, not yet.
Her breath shuddered out. She licked her lips and said, “You were the man who left Everett Thomas for the cops to find.”
His expression didn’t alter. Well, well. Jumped right to that, did you? He wondered if her first question had been designed to throw him off so she could go in for the kill. So to speak.
“You were the one who knocked him out and cuffed him.” Her hands pressed to the front of her jeans. Then her fingers curled into little fists.
Her tell.
“And you put the red bow on him when you left him as a gift for the cops,” Avalon finished.
Silence.
The limo picked up speed again.
His right hand rose. Moved slowly toward her. When his fingers curved under her jaw, she didn’t flinch away. Not this time. He leaned in so his mouth was just inches from hers. When she exhaled, he pulled in her breath. Beau wanted to devour her. “You said something that wasn’t true about me.” They’d gone over the rules. At least twice. “Now you have to pay for that with a kiss.” He was going to?—
Her head shot forward those last few, precious inches. Her mouth crashed onto his. His lips were open, so were hers, and Beau didn’t hold back on the leash of his control. His tongue thrust into her mouth, he took every bit of her sweetness, and he damn well wanted more. I want everything.
He’d watched over her for years. Carefully staying away. Always remaining in the shadows. Never touching what he wanted most. At first, he’d started watching her when she’d been a teen. Just to make sure she was safe. That the fucking arsonist didn’t come back. Because he wasn’t caught. He was still hunting. He couldn’t be allowed to hurt Avalon.
Her family had brought in protection for her. The best guards money could buy. With them at her side, he’d been sure she was safe.
So he’d…
Left.
Leaving her felt fucking wrong. He’d tried to move the hell on.
His hands curled around her hips. He pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him. Rocked against the aching dick that shoved so hungrily toward her.
When her parents had died, he’d gone back to her. Pulled, helplessly. He’d watched from a distance at the funeral. He’d felt her pain like a physical blow. She’d stayed at the cemetery long after everyone else left. The rain had begun to fall on her.
He’d remained. Made sure she got home safely.
She moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound and wanted more.
She’d lived in dangerous cities. He’d needed to make sure the wrong people stayed away from her. He had.
And when she’d started talking to killers…
Word needed to be spread that no one would hurt her. When she’d been walking straight into hell, the right—and wrong—people had needed to know that she belonged to the devil. You did not fuck with what the devil claimed.
His mouth tore from hers. He began to kiss a path down her throat. Her nails bit into his upper arms. And he decided that he’d like a little bite, too. His mouth pressed harder to her throat. He licked. Nipped.
