Page 43 of Silent as Sin
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STEAM STILL CLUNGto my skin as I pushed open the door to my room, toweling at the back of my neck. My head was a storm, Wren’s kiss burned in my blood, my chest heavy with the weight of it. I needed space, air, a second to cage the fire she’d lit.
Instead, I got Roxy.
She was sprawled across my bed like she owned it, black lace covering her skin, hair spilling over my pillow. Perfume thick in the air, cloying and sweet, enough to choke. Her smile curved slow, deliberate, the kind meant to reel me in.
“Miss me, baby?” she purred, propping up on her elbows.
Every muscle in me locked. For half a second, rage blurred my vision—at her, at the timing, at the insult of her being here when the ghost of Wren’s mouth was still on mine.
“Get the fuck out.” My voice lethal, hard enough to cut.
Her smile faltered, then tilted sharper. “Come on, Ash. Don’t play. I know you. You can’t go long without a woman in your bed.”
Something cold slid under my skin and my hands went hard at my sides, and rage took over, After tasting Wren’s lips, the insult of finding this—this patch chasing bitch—waiting. I wanted to take her by the throat and drag her out on her knees.
“You don’t know shit about me, and I’m not telling you again. Fucking leave,” I snarled.
She slid off the bed, crossing slow, hips swaying like the whole damn act would change my mind. But I wasn’t some fucking teenager who couldn’t control his cock. When she stopped in front of me, her hand skimmed my chest, nails dragging. “You don’t mean that. You can’t. We’re good together, you and me.”
I caught her wrist, shoved it off. “We were nothing. A warm body, that’s it. I told you that before and I’ll say it again, Wren is under my patch now. You think I’d fuck around with you while I have her? Get the hell out before I make you.”
Her eyes flared, anger flashing hot. Then she said it. “I’m pregnant.”
The words landed hard, but not the way she meant. My jaw locked, heat spiking deep and ugly. “Bullshit.”
“It’s not,” she snapped, desperation leaking into her tone. “Two months. Last time I was here, and I wasn’t with anyone else.”
I laughed, rough and humorless. “Two months, huh? Convenient. You think I’m that fucking stupid? That I wouldn’t wrap it up? I don’t make mistakes like that, Roxy. And I didn’tcare enough to know if you were only fucking me during that time.”
Her chin lifted, defiant. “It’s yours. You’ll see.”
I stepped forward until I was close enough to feel the scrape of lace under her ribs. Close enough to make her back up. “If you’re pregnant, a test will tell us whose it is.” My voice was a blade. “If it’s mine, fine. We deal with it. If it’s not, you’ll regret trying to trap me. Either way, we’re done. You understand me?”
Her mouth opened, then shut. The fight flickered, replaced with something meaner. “You’ll regret treating me like this.”
“Never,” I muttered, yanking the door open. “Out. Now.”
She stalked past me, perfume trailing like poison in the air. Her heels clicked down the hall, until they faded into the noise of the clubhouse.
I stood there a long beat, the stink of her perfume burning my lungs, fury crawling under my skin.
Pregnant. Christ. Even if she was, I didn’t believe for a second it was mine. She’d try to use it, twist it, poison what little progress I’d carved out with Wren.
Not happening.
I shoved a hand through my hair, breathing hard. If this shit got back to Wren, if she even thought for a second I was tangled up with Roxy still, it would rip apart everything we’d started to build.
No. Not a chance.
This wasn’t Roxy’s game anymore, and I wasn’t about to be played.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE KITCHEN SMELLEDof coffee and bacon, voicesrising and falling in low waves. It should’ve felt normal, just another morning at the clubhouse, but nothing about me was normal anymore. My chest still buzzed with the memory of what had happened upstairs.
The kiss.
