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“Just stay here, so I can?—”
“No. Please, Luca.”
And so we spend the next half hour going from room to room, Luca checking under the bed, inside the bathrooms, and anywhere else people can hide and surprise us.
When everything’s clear, I’m still trailing behind Luca, tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants because it’s his only piece of clothing. It’s at this moment when I become aware of things other than my fear, like the scars crisscrossing his back—jagged lines, some lighter than his skin, others raised, the skin puckered in some places, some tight.
My throat tightens, and without thinking, I touch them, brushing a finger along the biggest one running from his shoulder to his lower back.
Luca flinches, and I wonder if I crossed a line. “I’m sorry, Lila. I went to you the moment I heard them, and I didn’t have time to put on a shirt.”
“Sorry for what?”
He turns around, his eyes—normally blank and expressionless—full of worry and uncertainty. “Showing you the monster that I am.”
“M-monster?”
“You asked earlier what I do.” He clenches his jaw, steeling himself for what he’s about to tell me. “I kill people for a living.”
I just stare at him blankly. “What?”
“I get orders from my handler, and I carry out the missions without question.”
“Who do you usually kill?”
“People in power whose victims will never get justice until I hand it to them.”
Oh my God. He’s a killer. A cold-blooded killer. He kills the untouchables, but still…
Luca steps back and runs a hand through his hair, messing it further. “You don’t want to be near me, Lila. I’m a monster, and the only reason I didn’t go on a killing spree tonight with those intruders is because you’re here, and I didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”
What does it say about me when the only thing running through my head is how he’s willing to take another person’s life to protect me? Am I sick? Am I as much of a psychopath as him?
“You’d do that for me? Kill them?”
The question floats between us as I walk closer to him until only an inch of air separates us.
Luca sighs and drops his gaze to my chest. Only then do I realize I have nothing but a thin nightgown on. I don’t have any underwear. Instead of feeling self-conscious, though, I go against every instinct to cover myself.
Desire cuts across his face, causing a hot buzz in my core. “Yes, Lila. I would kill for you.”
With courage I didn’t know I had, I stand on my toes and graze his rough jaw with my knuckle. He snaps his eyes shut as tensionbuzzes like live wires between us. A whimper leaves my mouth as something thick and long prods against my stomach.
“Luca…”
My fingers feather across his hard chest, but Luca staggers back, scrubbing a hand across his face. “No, Lila. We can’t. This is wrong.”
Hurt pierces through me, and my voice breaks when I ask, “Says who?” His head snaps back to me. “Some would say killing people for a living is wrong, so I’m not sure what’s the issue.” I step forward, and he steps back. “You kill people, but you draw the line at doing what you want to do to your stepsister.”
“You don’t know what I want to do to you,” he growls, his face coming alive with lust … and longing.
“Then do it. Show me.”
Luca shakes his head and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re too good for me.”
“You don’t know that!” I snap. Maybe it’s me coming down from the adrenaline or the heady rush from escaping danger, but I just need to feel his hands on me. “Touch me, Luca. Kiss me.” I rub myself against him, moaning at how big he feels with his sweatpants molding on his cock. “Fuck me.”
The last words are barely out of my mouth before he cups my face and crushes his lips to mine. Explosions go off in my head, and I cling to him, digging my fingers into his shoulders.
