Page 65 of Crow

I stand by the car, leaning the small of my back against the passenger door, arms crossed over my chest.

He turns on me, eyes glowing like a wild animal’s in the dark. He hasn’t shaved since we left. With that line of stitches on the side of his jaw, it would be impossible to get over there and he’d end up with a lopsided face. The dark scruff only makes him look more fearsome. Even with his features twisted up in agony, he’s still unreasonably beautiful.

“Tarynn,” he groans, fisting his hands in his hair. “You’re my wife. You’re a good woman. Do you think I can just stand by and let anyone insults you? If someone tries it, I’ll cut out their tongue.”

“Jesus Christ! You’re not going to do that!” I make a rapid slash with my hand to punctate that statement. Blasphemy seems to come easier and easier with every passing day. I try not to glory in it. It feels a lot like freedom, but there should be limits.

He glowers at me, but eventually his face softens. “Sorry. That was extreme.”

“I’d say. I might be your wife, but we don’t even know what that means or where we’re going with that. If I’m old enough to stand on my own two feet, I’m old enough to look after myself. Promise me that you won’t lose your head over something that in the end, doesn’t mean anything at all.”

His lips form into a lopsided smile and I take my first full breath since I pulled over. “In just a few days, you already know me better than anyone else in my life.”

My face heats up to surface of the sun temperatures. He knows me better too. Maybe even better than I know myself. Physically, he’s touched parts of my body that I haven’t even ventured to explore.

Something that’s nearly giddy bubbles up inside of me. I hold out my hand. He takes it, drawing me in against him. His body mashes against mine, He’s half hard in his jeans already. My hands glide up his arms. I bury one in his hair. The base of his neck is damp underneath. He catches his breath, the sharp inhale making me want to draw closer to him. To be closer in every way, but we’re literally on the side of the road.

He bends his head, brushing his nose against mine. “I promise,” he growls.

His lips slant over mine, kissing me hard, feverish. He kisses me, his hands bracketing my face like he doesn’t want to let me go. Maybe he’s worried about going home too. He pulls back far before I’m ready.

“Hold on.” His hoarse tone wraps around me, sending shivers of want straight between my legs.

He drags in an inhale and then another, closing his eyes. His hands cling to my shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I hold him in return, grasping tightly to his black t-shirt.

When his eyes flicker open, the pupils are large and bright. They’re his eyes, but not his at all. They sweep along the road, tracing our surroundings furtively before coming to rest on me.His smile spreads slowly, like thick black paint spilling over a pristine canvas.

“Raven?”

He blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to clear his vision. “Beats the fuck out of me too. This is the first time that he’s ever let me out willingly. Just handed it over like those assholes in baton races.”

“Assholes? I think you mean athletes.”

He smirks. “Whatever. Either way, I mean this.”

He tilts my face up and crushes his mouth to mine. He kisses me like I’m that race and he’s passing every fucking baton, going for broke, going to win. I know these lips, but when he kisses me, it feels different. He moves his tongue differently, tilts my face to part my lips, so that I can take him deep int my mouth. His hands roam my body, strong and talented. He’s not afraid to suck my bottom lip into his mouth, to scrape it with his teeth in a way that causes a sexy as hell blossom of pain and pleasure to burst all over me like a fireworks display in the night sky.

He doesn’t pull back until he’s good and ready, his lips swollen and wet from kissing me, his whole face dancing with mischief.

“I promise too,” he mutters darkly, and then rolls his eyes at the car. “Let’s get back in this cage before someone comes along and smokes us. It’s not safe out here to have a breakdown.”

“Raven…’ I hedge.

He holds both his palms up and shoots me a look that screams sincerity, but somehow also is full of devious troubleall around the edges. “I promise, Tarynn. Truly. You’ll have no trouble from me. I won’t make good on any of the ways I’d like to dismantle your father and Frankenstein him back together. Cross my heart and hope to… well…not die, because that wouldn’t be fair to Crow. We’re trying to get along now, I guess.”

I don’t move and he grasps my shoulders lightly with those huge, rough palms. He smooths them down my arms, which of course causes an immediate volley of sensual goosebumps.

“Everything will be okay. It’s overwhelming, but just breathe. Day by day, or whatever nonsense people say.” That clearly doesn’t make me feel better, even though he’s grinning. Now that I know that Raven exists, it’s so easy for me to spot the thousand ways this person isn’t Crow. That big shit eating grin is a dead ringer. “I’m not going anywhere and nothing bad will happen. I refuse to let it. That’s my promise.”

He’s so earnest, his eyes twinkling with light that comes straight from within.

It’s impossible not to get drawn into him, not to respond to his eager, boyish smile and enthusiasm. I can do nothing but believe him.

Chapter 18

Raven

It’s not a weekend night, but it’s still night and the club is loud with voices. They’re mostly male, since the club whores generally only come out en masse on weekends. I can imagine all the guys in the lounge, a few watching some shit on TV, others throwing darts or playing pool, others sprawled out on couches, yapping about bikes, bitches, or guns.

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