Page 39 of Crow

I sweep Tarynn into my arms, bend her backwards, and kiss her like in those old black and white photos. People hoot and cheer as they walk past. I don’t stop. She grasps my face and hair, tugging until it burns, pulling me closer.

All the things that I could do to her swell inside of me like a tide. I’ve been longing to touch her, to feel her smooth, soft skin. I know her scent now. The taste of her petal soft lips. The sound of her little whispers of pleasure that she feeds me from her tongue.

Tarynn and all that makes her who she is, no longer belongs solely to Crow.

I should shove the asshole possessive thoughts aside. She doesn’t need to go from being dominated by her parents to being controlled by me. She wants to her own woman, as she should.

“Food,” I sputter, trying to act normal. Trying to act likeCrow. She stares back at me with glazed, blown eyes, but on her face is a look of utter contentment. Forme. I put that there. Not Crow. He can fuck off. He can stay gone. “You need something to eat. Immediately.”

“You just want to make sure I’m not drunk. The food will ruin the buzz.”

“I made a promise that I’d take care of you.”

She frowns. “To who?”

Fuck. “To… myself. And to you.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. She’s not frail, but sheisso much smaller than I am. That old protective urgency twists and burns like vines inside of me. I wait for Crow’s voice, for his feelings, for his dominance to come cutting through, but there’s nothing. He’s so firmly in the background that right now, it feels like it’s just me.

It would be easy to revel in that sensation, but all my senses are already consumed with the woman pressed up against my side. I’ve never known anything like this. I get why Crow couldn’t stop once he’d started, and why he started in the first place.

“What you need is one of those oversized pretzels with mustard.”

She scrunches up her nose. “The only thing mustard belongs on is wieners of alternating varieties.”

Because mentally, I’m ten, I snicker. She throws back her head and laughs too. She’s so beautiful and carefree, the lights of the city reflecting on her face in a glorious array of colors. Something pulses deep inside of me that is more than base, animal attraction.

“Please just eat something. Anything. If you want to maintain your buzz, you can do that later, at the club.”

“We’re really going?”

“I said we would. I keep my word.” Despite Crow’s endless accusations, that’s important to me.

“Fine. Get me the pretzel.”

Two giant pretzels later, mine with mustard, hers with cheese, eaten standing on the sidewalk, we find ourselves in the backseat of a cab, enroute to the club. I asked the driver for the best of whatever was open on a Sunday night.

I can’t help but feel a small twinge of horror over Tarynn’s obvious excitement. I’m leading her straight into corruption and that doesn’t feel like keeping her safe. At the same time, I know that she deserves the freedom to have her own experiences.

I feel almost obligated to give her some of that long overdue freedom.

Why?

I suppose for the same reasons that Crow offered those lessons after he initially said no. Why he couldn’t stop himself from bringing Tarynn straight to his inner sanctum, why he had to rescue her and why he wanted to do this for her.

Because she’s enchanting. Thrilling. Funny. Tender, nurturing, caring, and at the same time, nonjudgmental. Hefeltsomething in her that matched something in him, an emptiness that I’ve only ever added to instead of filled because he won’t let me. Maybe I feel some of that too. It could be a spillover of his emotions, but I don’t think so. More like an affirmation of my own.

“Do you have any siblings?” Tarynn asks, surprising me.

No one has ever asked me about my life. I’ve never been allowed out long enough for anything other than the fulfillment of carnal urges and occasional bursts of violence. It hits me hard that I’ve never had a real conversation with anyone other than Crow before.

“A twin brother.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s complicated. He’s of the same opinion as my parents. That I’m troubled and trouble. I felt alone growing up. I didn’t have to and neither did C- err, Adam, but that’s how it went.”

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