Page 47 of Tinsel & Chrome

Cyclops stands, and everyone else follows suit. “Meeting adjourned. Stay sharp.”

The room empties out, the men dispersing to gear up and prep. I stay by Larissa’s side, my hand hovering near her lower back.

She looks up at me, her eyes dark with determination. “You don’t have to babysit me, Tex.”

I smirk, leaning close. “Who said anything about babysitting? I’m just sticking close to the fire. Never know when it’ll explode.”

Her lips curl into a smile that’s more challenge than amusement. “You might get burned.”

I brush a thumb over her cheek, my voice low and rough. “Worth it.”

Because no matter what’s coming, one thing is crystal clear:

I’d walk through hell for this reckless princess.

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Chapter Seven

Larissa

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The cold air bites at my cheeks as I stand on the back porch of the clubhouse, watching the snow drift lazily to the ground. The world is silent, blanketed in white, but my mind is anything but quiet.

Cyclops wants me protected. Mace is seething. Tex is glued to my side like a shadow with a hard-on.

And I feel like a caged animal.

The door creaks behind me. I know who it is before he speaks. The heat that rolls off Tex is unmistakable, even in the dead of winter.

“You’re gonna freeze your ass off out here,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

“Maybe I like the cold,” I reply, not turning around.

Boots crunch on the snow-dusted wood as he closes the distance between us. His gloved hands slide onto my hips, the touch possessive and grounding.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to avoid everyone.”

I let out a sharp breath. “Is that so wrong?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his hands tighten, pulling me back against his chest. The solid wall of him is a comfort I’m not ready to admit out loud.

“Nah, it’s not wrong,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “But you’re not alone anymore, Larissa.”

His words scrape against something raw inside me. The part that wants to believe him, to let myself lean on someone withoutfear of falling. But trust doesn’t come easy when you’ve been burned.

I turn in his arms, my eyes meeting his. Snowflakes cling to his dark hair, and his eyes are intense, almost too much. His gaze drops to my lips, and a slow heat ignites between my thighs.

“You keep looking at me like that, Tex, and I’ll think you actually give a damn.”

He smirks, but it’s softer than usual. “What if I do?”

The air between us crackles, the tension more potent than any threat from the Hell Reapers. He’s dangerous, in every sense of the word, but this is a danger Ichoose.

I grip his jacket, pulling him down until our lips are a whisper apart. “Then stop talking and show me.”

His mouth crashes against mine, and the world shatters. The cold disappears, replaced by a fire that burns through every nerve ending. His hands slide up my back, under my jacket, searing heat against my chilled skin.

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