Page 21 of The Wayward Sons & the Seattle Sirens

“What is wrong with you?” I demanded.

“I don’t want to ever think about Mal or Gray in that way,” Tessa replied. “Or you for that matter.”

“Jesus fuck,” I muttered and ran a hand over my face. Only my sister. “Tess, it means they’d be good targets for harvesting life energy from.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense. But why do you need your dog tags?” she asked. Quietly, she added, “I honestly never thought I’d see you wear those again.”

That made two of us.

“It’s an easily identifiable way to explain vigilant behavior,” I explained while pulling a t-shirt on. The tight spread across my shoulders left an outline of my tags on my chest. The sight was odd in the mirror. “A civilian who keeps an eye on everything is questionable. That’s usually identified as criminally suspicious behavior. But when someone in the military does so… it’s observant. I need them to think I’m just a hyper-aware soldier. The last thing I need is the focus on me while I try to stalk a siren—which is to say, I’m about to go into a strip club to stalk a fucking stripper.”

It wasn’t lost on me just how fucked up that would look like from the outside. The less attention I drew to myself, the better. At least my behavior had an explanation this way.

“Ryder,” Tessa began softly, and I glanced at her. “Can you handle this? Honestly?”

“I can kill a siren,” I said, but I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what she meant.

“The club will be full of people,” she elaborated. “That’s a lot of… variables for you. What if—”

“Don’t say it.”

“It needs to be said!”

“No, it fucking doesn’t,” I snapped. “I’m not going to lose control. I can do this.”

The words were more for me than for her.

CHAPTER 17

Whose fuckin’ idea was it to go on this goddamn walk again?” I yelled as we sprinted up the beach. Icy rain pelted my skin while sand made running a fucking feat. Our walk turned into a race down the beach when a sudden downpour decided to kick our asses. “I hate cardio!”

“I know,” Ryder said.

“Fuck cardio, baby,” I snapped, breathing fast. I pushed harder to keep up with him. Damn man with his damn exercise routine—though his ass looked great as I chased him. “I hate runnin’ so goddamn much!”

“Run faster!” He laughed as if this was nothing. God, I loved that sound.

“That ain’t the answer!” But fuck if I didn’t pick up my pace to try and catch him.

Our house was settled back on a section of beach where rock mixed with sand and beach grass grew like weeds. Maybe they were weeds. Who the fuck knew? We rushed over the wooden plank pathway toward the little cottage. Sure, it was small, but we didn’t need more.

Ryder beat me onto the porch and stood there, hands on his hips and that gorgeous fucking smile on his face as he watched me. I loved him like this—happy and free. Stopping on the top step, I huffed out a frustrated breath.

“Fuckin’ rain.” I shook out my hair, water flying everywhere. Not like the porch wasn’t already puddling a little. “I ain’t ever goin’ for another damn walk—”

Catching me around the waist, Ryder dragged me close and pushed me against the door. His body pinned mine against the wood.

“Shut up, honey,” Ryder ordered a second before his mouth found mine. I groaned, and his tongue swept through the seam of my lips. My hand curled around the back of his neck to hold him close. That familiar flame surged to life. The cold around us didn’t matter as every nerve in my body warmed under his attention. I needed more of him. From the way his dick pressed hard against my hip, he was just as needy.

His mouth drifted along my jaw as I struggled to open the goddamn door. Of course, we had to buy a fucking house that had a stupid fucking keypad lock instead of a regular lock like normal people. How the fuck was I supposed to focus on a number code when all my thoughts went straight to my dick?

“Open the door, Gray,” he whispered against my neck. His teeth grazed over my pulse, making me groan. Fuck me.

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’,” I grumbled. “This is why buyin’ a house with a keypad thing was a bad idea!”

“Impatient?” He chuckled, the sound spilling over my skin. I vibrated from head to toe. Yeah, I was fucking impatient. I wanted all his clothes and mine gone. I wanted to taste every goddamn inch of the man.

“I’m always impatient for you,” I reminded him. Ryder’s hand swatted mine away from the lock. He punched in the numbers without ever looking—show off.

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