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Couture lingerie. The highest quality grooming products. Bespoke gowns. Elegance, grace, and carefully cultivated loveliness.
Were any of them ever as beautiful as this scared, dirty young woman?
I truly don’t think so.
I can barely focus on her beautiful face, though. Each time I try, my gaze flickers to the angry, red half-moons clamped around the left side of her neck. An unfamiliar bolt of urgency strikes my center, along with something equally as dire that swells lower.
I didn’t think I could hate myself much more, but that isn’t true. Because the second my eyes rove over that claiming mark, a spark of desire catches fire in the pit of my stomach?—
No.
I stop the train of thought in its tracks, deeming it wholly unacceptable. She’s endured enough of my unwanted attention without adding that aspect to it, surely.
It’s too late, though. She feels my “interest” and huddles closer to Avery. He cuts me a glare, letting her hide behind his body.
“We’ll go right upstairs,” Jonah chips, tossing in a wide smile. “Can’t let our guest get chilly.”
Serena’s expression doesn’t flicker one bit, but her sick swoop of dismay echoes in my gut.
Hmm.
The emotion is so strong, I’m surprised it isn’t all over her face. Wherever she’s been, whatever she’s been through, she’s learned to keep her feelings buried.
It reminds me of myself—and, even more, Spencer.
At the moment, I’m the one doing everything in my power to repress my desires. But every time my brain catches up to my body, my eyes are already lingering there, where her throat is torn and those dried pricks of blood?—
No.
The elevator is a special kind of hell. Spencer takes the back corner, crossing his arms over his rumpled white shirt, refusing to touch anything. Avery stabs the button for the main floor of the townhome and then stiffens. Beside me, Jonah’s grin freezes into a brittle grimace.
Because her scent.
Holy fucking God.
In the small confines of the lift, Serena’s lush sweetness is otherworldly. Creamy coconut thickens the air while bright freshness swirls off her. The sweet edges instantly darken into something tantalizing.
Ave mutters a curse, dropping his chin to his heaving chest and squeezing his eyes shut. Spencer’s stay wide open, his intensity stabbing at the side of Serena’s face while his nostrils flare repeatedly. Bright interest lights Jonah’s gold gaze while it sweeps over her.
And me?
I’m dying.
That’s the only explanation for the pain. A searing tear at my center. The caving cramp in my chest. The aching pulse of arousal that stiffens my cock.
I do everything I can to swallow my groan, but it comes out as a strangled growl. The sound seems to snap everyone out of their own heads.
“Fucking try it,” Avery snarls at me, stepping in front of Serena again. “I’ll rip your throat out. See how you like it.”
His threat barely registers. I’m too busy trying to sort the avalanche of emotion barreling through my abdomen. Mine and Serena’s. It takes a moment for me to realize?—
Spencer beats me to it. His eyes narrow at her, somewhere between accusing and confounded. “You aren’t even aroused right now.”
No. She isn’t.
She hasn’t been at all since we left the station.
This is just what she smells like. All the time.
