Page 41 of Savage Lust

Who was Ky? As much as I wanted to listen, to find out more about how Archer died, I went back to the bedroom then. There was a cold, haunting tone in Cam’s voice that I wanted nothing to do with. A reminder that here, with these people, I was out of my league.

When Cam came back in, I was flipping through social media photos of high school acquaintances. I hadn’t posted anything since Mom’s funeral announcement. There hadn’t been anything to say. And now?

There’s too much.

I ignored all the questions that burned my tongue more than I ignored him, waiting until I could no longer hear Merc’s bikebefore saying anything. “There are a few things I really need to know.” I stood, feeling like doing so made me seem more assertive.

“Alright.” He leaned against the dresser. I tried not to notice the way the thin material of the t-shirt pulled tight around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How am I going to get you in trouble?” That was the easy one. Or should be.

He grinned, unfolding his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Darlin, even now I want to throw you back on that bed for the rest of the night, bury my face between your thighs, and stay there until neither of us can say a fucking word.”

As he advanced, I scurried backwards until the mattress hit the back of my knees and I sat on reflex. When he said it like that, the mental image made my mouth, and other things, water. I couldn’t even remember my question.

He was going to do things to me that I never imagined.

Cam kissed me, his lips hot and urgent, tasting faintly of the menthol cigarette he’d smoked. Jesus, how was that even hot? Losing myself in his kiss made it easy to forget everything except where I was and who I was with. It was as if my very being was consumed by Cam the second his tongue brushed against mine.

But he’d said we’d talk and we weren’t talking.

Nothing pissed me off more than being placated. Dylan’s words about how we weren’t allowed to know things, still played in my head.

Cam was an expert at distraction. Making out with me, hovering over me, and leaning me back on the bed. All of this was his version of a magician’s trick, outlaw biker sleight of hand. I wasn’t about to fall for it again, no matter how good he tasted.

I pressed my hand to his chest and pushed. Cam moved, pulling away and straightening, closing his fingers around mywrist. His thumb stroked an absent rhythm over the top of my hand.

“Did Archer really kill himself?”

There was a flash of acknowledgment, a brief lightening of his blue eyes that told me he didn’t think so. Not that he thought Archer wasn’t capable of suicide, but that something bigger was going on here.

I grew cold, my desire rapidly abating. Pushing past him, I collected my bag. “I’m going to go back to the house.”

“Why’s that?” The annoyance on his face creased his brow but did little to dampen his appeal.

I shrugged, shouldering the bag. “Because this was a bad idea.”

“Darlin, everything about me is.” His voice was tired, resigned, and stopped me before I could walk out of the room.

“My mistake.”

“Was it?”

No.

“I don’t know. I can’t figure out what you want from me. You won’t tell me anything, but you take me to meet a woman Archer was close with, someone important. You boss me around and then make love to me.” I turned to him, frustrated and fed up. “Having sex with you wasn’t the mistake, thinking you thought more of me than Krystal or one of the other groupies was.”

“I do.” He pushed his hand through his hair and shifted around the dresser. If I’d given him room to pace, he probably would have, but I blocked the door. “There are parts of my life I can never tell you—that I won’t bring you into. Hell, you barely know me, much lessthis life.”

“But some of it is about me, directly affectsme.”

“Like what?” There was a flash of vulnerability on his face when I took another step back, almost fully in the other room now.

He followed me, filling the doorway until I backed into the room. It was like an oddly sexy game of cat and mouse. If I ran for the door, would he run after me, grab me, jerk me against his chest again? Or would he stand there and watch me go?

I hated myself because I hoped he’d chase me and was tempted to find out.

“Are you serious? Someone broke into the house I’m staying in. I could have been there, alone. If you think someone murdered Archer, I deserve to know. It means something could happen to me too now.”

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