“I lost count.” He answered it like it was the easiest question in the world. As if I had just asked him the answer to one plus one. No remorse. No regret. He showed nothing that gave me the impression he hated the fact that he was a killer.
With the next bite, I didn’t show as much hesitance and didn’t chew as long either.
“Who else has the tag?” The masochist in me wanted to know exactly how many fucking killers lived under this roof.
“Ink, Dutch, and Onyx.”
“Who are Ink and Dutch?”
“Ink is the club’s sergeant-at-arms. Crazy son of a bitch. He makes sure laws are upheld, and no one carries a firearm without him knowing about it. Dutch is the enforcer.”
“Enforcer?”
“You’re not playing by the rules, ballerina girl.” He held up the spoon, and I gagged a little thinking of swallowing more food. But I was desperate. They said knowledge was power, and I needed to make use of every opportunity I got in order to empower myself. It was the only way for me to fight back. So, I ate, my stomach complaining more and more after every mouthful I swallowed. My body wasn’t used to eating this much.
I cringed as the last of the food slipped down my throat.
There was an amused grin on his face as he watched me struggle. “Good girl. Now, to answer your question. In our case, the enforcer is lead security when it comes to protecting the president. He also helps the sergeant-at-arms to make sure members uphold our laws.”
“And if they don’t?”
He shot me a sly grin while reaching for the beer. “How do you think he ended up with the Blood Brothers tag?”
I shuddered. Made total sense how those two got the killer badge in the club.
“Ever drink beer before?”
“You’re the one claiming to know me, so why don’t you tell me?”
He leaned forward, and I could smell the overripe scent of the beer he held out to me. I’d only ever tasted beer once while at a party with Red. It was vile. The thought of drinking it made me feel lightheaded and sick. But the thought of ending up as nothing more than a number on his hit list had me opening my mouth as he brought the bottle to my lips.
Beer spilled down the side of my face even though Granite poured slowly. When he pulled the bottle away, I was relieved since I was sure I had only been one mouthful away from hurling beer and macaroni in his face.
The wetness of the beer remained on my mouth and chin, and he glanced at my lips before looking me in the eye. The moment lingered for a while, and with each passing second, his eyes darkened. There was a hunger, a desire in the depths of his irises—the golden specks masked with greed. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of how close he was, his warm breath skidding across my wet lips, causing me to shiver. My body prickled with more anticipation than fear.
“Ask me, Alyx.”
He didn’t back down. In fact, I was sure he was leaning closer, little by little, his earthy scent mixing with the overripe fruit flavor of the beer.
His gaze dropped down to my mouth, and I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes when he touched his thumb against the corner of my lips. Softly, gently, as if I were glass, he wiped his fingers down my chin, his caress igniting a fire deep within me. My lips parted, and in that moment, I didn’t want him to stop touching me. Gone was the fear, replaced by desire, and it felt right in so many wrong ways. How could I desire his touch while fearing him?
Lightly, his fingers traced along my jaw. “Ask me the one question you’re burning to ask me,” he whispered, and I imagined his low voice was what seduction sounded like. Dark. Tempting. Captivating. And utterly disarming.
His thumb was on my lips again, and I opened my eyes to look straight into his. Deep down, I knew exactly which question he was referring to. It was a question I was too afraid to ask, but while I slowly lost myself in his gaze, something told me his answer might change everything.
My lips parted while his thumb remained. “Why did you take me?”
His finger dipped inside my mouth, and I exhaled sharply, air rushing past my lips in a huff.
“Because you asked me to.” His palm flattened against my jaw, fingers softly caressing my skin, pushing my body toward an edge it had never even been close to. My eyes closed, and I relished the way his skin felt against mine. So many conflicting emotions, but only one dominant one. Desire.
A whimper left me when his lips brushed my chin, his beard gently grazing against my flesh. “Every time you stared at me from your bedroom window, you asked me to take you.” With his hand against my cheek, he forced me to lean my head to the side. “You practically begged me to.”
“That’s a lie.” It was a feeble attempt to fight him. My voice lacked conviction. It lacked strength because my body was slowly succumbing to his touch, only wanting more and more.
“It’s not. You’ve waited for me all this time. Silently hoping I’d come for you. Well, now I have. And guess what?” The tip of his tongue dragged up my neck, and I tried to squirm in my seat, lust pooling between my legs. God, it felt dirty, the way my sex throbbed as he licked across my skin. It made me wonder what his tongue would feel like against my sensitive folds, licking, sucking, tasting.
With rapid breaths, I whispered, “What?”