Page 77 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
Lifting my face up, I meet his eyes again.
“What is it you hate about me?” I whisper, truly curious. I mean, I know why Grainger hates me. Sort of. And Sin. Pretty sure Beast doesn’t hate me. But Crown? He’s a mystery. He laughs at me, and I frown, teasing his belly with my fingertips.
“I don’t hate you.”
“You act like you do,” I continue, bringing my hands to his belt buckle. He watches me try to undo it, and then reaches down with his free hand, pushing me away. With the other, he swigs the Crown Royal whiskey.
“If that’s what you think, then you’re either in the wrong mindset … or I am.” My brows raise, but I can’t quite figure out what he’s trying to say. My fingers touch his belt again, but he grabs my wrist in a harsh grip. “I’m not going to fuck you, Gidge.” His voice is hard, almost painful to hear. “I don’t know what happened with the others, but they were wrong. This is fucked-up.”
“You think I should’ve lost it to someone my own age?” I ask dryly, and Crown’s face tightens up.
“You were a virgin before tonight?” There’s venom in his voice, and to be quite frank, it’s almost scary. If I had to pick one of these four men that I was most likely to be scared of, it might actually be Crown. “Are you kidding me?”
“Wow. I guess you all just assumed I was as loose as Nellie.” My nostrils flare, and I tear Crown’s belt from its buckle. He lets me do that much, but then he shoves me away again, taking another drink. “Why? If you’d known it was going to be you or Grainger, would you have fought for the right?” My mouth curves up in a mean smirk, but I’m only teasing. I know Crown doesn’t like me, despite what he says. I just figured that he’s a guy, and a Daybreaker at that. Sex is like, well, alcohol to them. They don’t mind drinking several bottles a night, even if the bar is out of the stuff they prefer. Anything will do.
“You let Grainger …” Crown pauses to drink yet again. I hope the alcohol gets to him soon. Considering the second empty bottle on the table, I’m guessing he started as soon as he heard the Grey Wolfe Mafia was on their way out of town. “Anyone but him, Gidge.”
“It’s not like we’re an item or anything,” I grind out, reaching for the bottle. Crown resists at first, and then finally lets it slip into my fingers. A quick swig gives me the burn in my throat that I’m looking for, and I pass it back. “He was proficient.”
“Proficient?” Crown asks, and then laughs, a slightly happier sound than before. He’s clearly drunk, or on his way to drunk. “Fucking please. That man is a sloppy fucker. You just don’t have anything to compare him to.”
“I have Beast,” I retort, lifting my chin and putting my fingers on Crown’s fly. He looks down at them, but he doesn’t stop me as I pop the button and lower the zipper. “I have Sin.” My hand slips inside his jeans, and he groans, taking another drink. My fingers curl around his cock, and a hot flush colors my cheeks. “I could have you.”
This … this is my father’s VP right here, his righthand man. Getting Crown into bed is like kicking my father in the metaphorical balls. That’s right, Cat. You only think you own these men. My hand strokes him up and down, slowly but confidently. There’s a feeling inside my chest that says if I act weak or unsure around Crown, he’ll push me away permanently.
After a moment, the bottle falls from his fingertips and shatters on the pavement, sloshing whiskey across our boots. When Crown takes my wrist and pushes it from his jeans, I open my mouth to protest. Instead, he sweeps down and kisses me.
My toes curl inside my boots, and my heart screams in my chest. Kissing an outlaw shouldn’t feel this good. Kissing an outlaw should be like licking the sharp end of a rusty nail, not this liquid molten heat and ardent, wild energy. It feels good, too good, like he’s pulling me into him.
Crown kisses me until my knees buckle, and then he wraps an arm around my waist and sets me on his bike, looking down at me.
“Could have me, huh?” he asks, and then he’s making quick work of my clothes, leaving me naked on his bike. I wiggle on the leather seat, and it squeaks, making me swallow with nervousness. Crown puts his hands on my shoulders and kisses my forehead, my cheeks. It’s almost … nice, the way he touches me. It’s confusing as hell.
