Page 29 of The Devils Melody
“What for? We’re closing in a few minutes anyway.”
“Don't worry about it, sweetheart. We just have to take care of a little something that's been festering for a while,” I say as I grab my beer and chug what's left. I drop more than enough bills on the counter to cover the beer while giving her a nice tip and stand up from my chair.
“Keep the change, baby,” I throw a quick wink over my shoulder and I leave her to it.
Wren stepsout of the bar, pulling the door shut behind her. The second I hear her boots hit the pavement, I lean back on my bike, taking in a slow drag of the cigarette I lit just moments before she walked outside and watch her. She grabs her keys out of her purse, locking the door with one hand while tugging her jacket tighter around her frame with the other. Her eyes flick around the lot as if checking to see if she’s alone.
She’s not.
She never is anymore now that I’m around.
Wren turns around, her head down as she unknowingly heads in my direction, but her pace slows the second she looks up and spots me sitting here on my Harley. I can practically see her eyes roll from where I sit. I fucking love that look on her. The mix of irritation and awareness, as if she wishes she didn’t feel me watching her but she knows that she likes it.
“Why are you still here?” she calls, walking towards her car. “ Don’t you have anything else better to do than stalk me all night?”
I smirk, flicking my cigarette to the ground and grinding it out beneath my boot. “I would stalk you whether I had something better to do or not.”
She reaches her car that I’m conveniently parked rightnext to, and whips around to look at me. Her arms are crossed over that tight little tank top again, pushing her tits up on display. It’s as if she purposely wants me to look, and I’m fucking looking.
“But to answer your question,” I add, stepping off the bike and closing the distance between us. “Yeah, I do. Lennox should be here soon. We have something to take care of, remember?”
She cocks her eyebrow, “At two in the morning?”
“Mhmm.” I stop right in front of her, letting the silence linger a bit longer before I speak again. “Why? You worried?”
“No,” she says quickly, biting back. “I’m just curious what a couple of boys like you have to do so late at night.”
I chuckle. “Are you jealous, little bird? You think we’re gonna go out there and fuck some random whores tonight?”
She scoffs, eyes narrowing on me. “I couldn’t care less whose hole you stick your dick into.”
I grin wider and lean in just a little closer, watching the way her breath stutters. “Oh, I think you could. I think you’re in denial about how I make you feel.”
“You’re full of shit,” she snaps, but there’s no heat in it. Just that spark she can’t seem to smother.
I don’t stop. I take another step closer, making her take a step backwards until she’s pressed up against her car, and I’m pressed up against her. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Wren, but your pulse pounding in your neck gives you away.”
“Oh, you think you’re that good, huh?” she fires back, but her voice dips just slightly. It’s lower now, breathier.
“IknowI am.” I slide my hand up to cup her face. “Wanna find out?”
She lets out a soft breath, and I actually think she’s going to give in. But then, “You’re a fucking psycho.”
She pushes me off, turning to unlock her car.
“Only when it comes to you.” I chuckle. I reach my arm around Wren and grab the handle, pulling the door open to her car and give her the most innocent smile I can manage while gesturing with my hand. “Get in.”
She hesitates a beat. “What are you doing?”
“Being a gentleman. Now get in.”
She doesn’t answer, just glares at me for a second before slipping into the driver's seat. I shut the door behind her, walk around the car, and slide into the passenger seat like I belong here.
The second the door closes, the energy in the car shifts. The quiet isn’t peaceful, it’s fucking electric. The tension is so thick, I could slice it open and watch it bleed. I turn towards her, leaning over slow enough so I don’t frighten her, and tuck a loose strand of her hair that falls from her messy bun behind her ear. I breathe her in carefully. She smells of whiskey, cigarette smoke, and that sweet skin I haven’t been able to taste yet.
“You think I don’t affect you?” I murmur right into her ear. “Your breathing says otherwise.”
“Fuck you,” she breathes back, but it’s not anger. It’s surrender.
