Page 31 of Crow

She blows out a sigh, but ends up smiling at me. It makes my heart stop dead.

How romantic. You know that’s not physically possible right?

Can’t you feel that? Tell me you can’t feel it.

I feel it, but what’s the point? It’s not like you’re ever going to let me out to even so much as have a conversation with her. She’s yours. You’ve already made that clear. Our life is yours. Maybe I’ll just go sit in a corner and pout. Are you sure you can win without me? Protect her properly if I’m not there? Even function on a basic level?

“Crow?”

I snap my attention back to Tarynn.

“I said okay. We can go in.”

We get out of the cab and shoulder our backpacks. True to his word, the guy settles in for the wait. I hear an audio book go on the second we’re out of the car. The guy crosses his arms and reclines his seat. He obviously thinks that we’ll be in here a while.

Now that she’s agreed, Tarynn faces the massive building with awe.

It’s nothing compared to how excited she gets the minute we’re inside. You’d think that something ancient and world shattering had just been unearthed by the clear rapture on her face. She skips around, exclaiming over the beauty and construction of every bike.

The full realization that she actually wants thisfor herself and not just to rebel against her parents settles in. She could easily go out and buy herself a used cage now that she’s out of the house, but she still wants a bike.

She’s a good girl with a rebel spirit, and fuck if that doesn’t hit me hard all over again. It’s like I’m seeing her for the first time.

As soon as Tarynn asks for a jacket and a pair of boots, two pretty, young saleswomen eagerly talk her into trying on half the store. They bring heaps of clothing, everything from t-shirts to sweaters, tanks to ripped up little scraps of clothing, dresses and short skirts, tiny little shorts, to pajamas. That’s just the clothing. They’re equally as excited to show her boots made for riding and boots made for… not riding. I don’t think a six-inch heel and something that goes to the knee is practical for controlling a bike.

Half that shit is eye candy for the lady riding on thebackof a bike.

Tarynn takes her time in the dressing room. She lets the other women in with her sometimes, to help her, while I sit in a fancy orange and black leather chair and wait, watching the heavy black curtains that flow all around the changing room. Curtains. Not walls. That fabric is the only thing that stands between me and everyone else in this place-—albeit not many people—seeing Tarynn naked.

My hands start to itch and even though Raven is silent, I know he hasn’t made good on his threat to check out. The way Tarynn has pressed on all my protective instincts from the first, doesn’t make sense. I know that. The will to change it is lacking. I know that too. I don’t have to like it to make it a fact.

You don’t not like it. Admit it.

The curtains swish and draw to the side and Tarynn steps out shyly. She’s got those damn knee high boots with the massive spike heels on, a tiny little black leather skirt, and a tight tank that is cut straight down the swell of her breasts and ends above her naval. A creamy expanse of her pale skin shows above the skirt. Her legs look endlessly long.

My heart practically slaps right out of my chest and ends up in my throat. I lean forward immediately to cover my instant, raging boner.

I cut off any and all images before they can flood my brain.

Most. Images.

I still get one of her, pressed up against a wall, her legs wrapped around my waist while my fingers delve under that skirt to find her hot, wet, and needy.

Us on our knees. Our mouth on her skin. Tasting her hot, sweet pussy until she drenches our face. She’d be so tight on our fingers. On our cock.

I jolt to my feet like someone just hooked jumper cables to my balls. We’ve never wanted the same woman before. I’ve only ever let Raven out twice with a woman, when he became so incessant in my head, that I was going to split right in half. Twice in thirty-four years of life. I retreated so far back into our headthat I have no memories of what happened. He assured me that he was a gentleman, and I believed him.

Raven is inherently violent and intrinsically dangerous, but he’s also a shit liar. It’s hard to convince someone you’re something you’re not when they can feel your every movement. He’s never hurt anyone who wasn’t a threat to him. He’d never hurt a woman, a child, or an animal, even if theyweredirect threats.

Who have I hurt before other than people who wanted to kill us, maim us, or lock us away in a padded room? It’s so unfair that you constantly label me violent and unpredictable. Just because I… what? Played with matches a few times? So fucking what? Who hasn’t?

“Crow?” Tarynn is so uncertain that I realize how vacantly I’ve been sitting here, utterly spaced out.

“Sorry.” I rub my eyes. “Just a little jetlagged.” Right. On a two and a half hour flight after a long ass nap.

She accepts that without question. She clutches her hands, studying her nails instead of looking at me, but then she slowly turns and takes in her image in the full length mirror. She lets out a little gasp.

“I don’t look like me,” she squeals.

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