Page 95 of Made for Cyn

“I can’t abandon my cousin.”

“Why? She’s abandoned you.”

I ignore his words, but I can’t ignore the foreboding in my heart which agrees with his assessment even as I refuse to give in.

When I emerge from the path, I stop up short to find Cyn leaning against his SUV with his arms crossed over his chest and a broody expression on his face.

I’m not sure I’m ready to see him after what I’ve just learned because when I’m with him, he’s everything, but how can I accept what he does? It’s not even a philosophical question, it’s a reality, and it’s gross.

“Are you tracking me?” I mutter, stopping before him.

His bright eyes trail over me slowly, and I fight the shiver rolling down my spine, determined to get some answers, but I have to be careful because I don’t want this to come back on Oscar.

“There’s an app on your phone,” he says, and I actually do shiver because shit, if he doesn’t make my body sing just with his gravelly voice.

His mouth curves in a smile, and he opens the passenger door, motioning for me to get in. I’m not sure this is the best idea, but I do need answers, and this is my opportunity.

Once I’m inside, he rounds the vehicle and joins me, before quietly pulling away from the bridge. His demeanor makes me wonder if he heard our conversation, and clenching my hands in my lap, I whisper, “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he says.

“Which one?” I ask dryly, and the curl to his lip makes my stomach swoop.

“The one where I sleep.”

I watch him drive from the corner of my eyes, admiring his brutal beauty, from his face full of stark lines and grim knowledge to his body, strong and fit, made for fighting. And loving . . .

“Beauty, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to pull over and fuck you,” he growls.

“Oh,” I gasp, a lick of fire surging in my core.

“Yeah, oh,” he says with a smirk. “Where’s Iris?”

“Why?” I ask, my mood souring.

Is this about her, after all? Why does the topic always come back to her?

“Why are you alone?”

“I don’t know where she is. I’m not her keeper,” I say tartly, annoyed by his impatient tone.

He looks me over with narrowed eyes. “I do love your sassy mouth, beauty, but only when it’s wrapped around my cock.”

My jaw drops to my knees. “I’ve never . . .”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

Shifting in my seat as visions of touching him there with my mouth roll around in my head, I almost miss his next question because I’m still stuck on the heat building in my veins.

“What did Oscar say to you?”

“Huh?”

“What were you talking about with Oscar?” he says, and although his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes are full of heated promise.

“Nothing.” I’m trying to gain some semblance of control, but it’s nearly impossible with his glittering stare.

“Nothing? You spend too much time with him,” he grumbles.

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