Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
My whole body tightens with heat. Down, girl. I don’t even bother pretending I’m immune—I’m slick and throbbing for him, even after he just wrecked me. “Promises, promises.”
The sun begins its slow descent, the red rocks deepening into shades of violet and burnt orange. It’s time to go, but I find myself lingering. I want to memorize all of it. The scent of the spring. The heat of the stone. The way Diesel looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
We pack up the bag and make the trek back to the bike. The ride back is different. All the worry is gone, replaced by a deep, resonant sense of belonging. I don’t squeak when we lean into the turns anymore; I move with him, my body an extension of his, our rhythms perfectly aligned.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DIESEL
Serenity is leaning against the island, her hair a chaotic halo of blonde curls that I spent most of the night winding around my fingers. She's wearing one of my old black T-shirts, the hem hitting her mid-thigh, and she looks so much like she belongs here that it makes my chest ache with a pressure I can’t quite name.
"I just need twenty minutes, Diesel," she says, her voice carrying that sharp, stubborn edge that usually means I’ve already lost the argument. "I have to pick up the book I ordered from the bookstore, and I’m dying for a decent latte that doesn't come out of a pod.”
Serenity’s blue eyes flash with stubborn pride as she slips her keys into her bag. I can see she’s already written off the threat. She’s not looking over her shoulder, not flinching at every sound. She’s already healing, and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to lock her up just to keep her safe until the end of time.
I force myself to take a breath, count to five, let her have this little victory. She wants a book and a coffee. Simple things. Normal things. After what she’s been through, she deserves it. Even if every cell in my body wants to shadow her every step.
I lean against the fridge, arms crossed, and give her my best you’re-pushing-your-luck glare. “Twenty minutes. Not a second longer, Serenity.”
She beams, a smile so bright it actually hurts to look at, and stands on her tiptoes to press a quick, lingering kiss to my mouth. "You're a very bossy protector, you know that? It's lucky for you that I find it slightly attractive."
"Only slightly?" I mutter against her lips, pulling her closer for a heartbeat, trying to memorize the feel of her pulse against mine. It’s a desperate kind of greed, the kind that comes from knowing how easily things can break.
She laughs, a sound like silver bells, and pulls away to grab her bag. "Keep your ego in check, big guy. I'll meet you at the shop before you even have time to miss me."
“You’d better, or I’ll whip your gorgeous ass,” I mutter against her lips.
“Promises, promises.” She laughs. “I love you, caveman.”
“I love you, too. Now, hurry up and get back before I lose my goddamn mind.”
I don’t trust it. Not for a fucking second. Voss has been quiet for a couple of weeks, and Savage has eyes on him at all times. Plus, I arranged for a bodyguard to quietly keep an eye on my girl when I can’t be there.
She’s halfway out the door before I remember to fucking breathe. The urge to follow her is so strong, I almost say screw it and drag her back to the bedroom where she’s safest. But I don’t. She wants normal. She wants twenty minutes of peace. So, I give her that, even if it burns.
The second the door closes behind her, I yank out my phone and call Savage. He picks up on the first ring.
“Serenity is heading out to run errands. You got eyes on Voss?” I ask, not bothering with pleasantries.
“He hasn’t left his apartment since last night. And Dillon will follow your girl,” Savage growls back, voice low and steady. “He’ll make sure she’s safe.”
“Keep it that way. If anyone even looks at her sideways, I want to know.”
He laughs, a dark, guttural sound. “You got it.”
I give it five minutes before I’m in my SUV, heading toward the garage, but my eyes are constantly darting to the phone mounted on my dash. My hands are tight on the wheel, my knuckles white against the black leather. I tell myself I’m being paranoid. I tell myself that Vegas is my city, and nothing happens here that the Steel Sinners don't know about.
The garage is a blur of activity. Benny is swearing at a carburetor while Chris and Edwin fight over who’s the best at tune-ups. I try to focus on the shit on my list, but my mind is elsewhere. My phone buzzes on the metal tabletop, a sharp, vibrating dance that makes me jump. It's a text from my sister.