Page 21 of Altered By Fire (Undercover Sinners 1)
Arsen just laughs, leaning his head back against the wood casing and rocking it back and forth as he quietly mouths the words to some song I can't hear. At first, I think this is just more proof that he's completely and utterly insane, but then he yanks out a single earbud I hadn't noticed before and tosses the cord around his neck.
"What's in the bag, Miss Petrova?" he asks, smiling like a shark.
"Clothes," Mace answers gruffly, crossing his arms over a chest as wide as the friggin' kitchen table. He looks like he could snap Arsen's neck with little to no effort, but then again, never underestimate crazy people. I've seen many a person make that mistake in the past. My father's right-hand man is clinically batshit. When he found out his wife was watching gay porn behind his back, he put a bullet in her head during dinner. We were having pierogi—she'd made it—and then all of a sudden, there was just blood everywhere. "Don't you have a job to do?"
"Not particularly," Arsen drawls, giving me a puppy dog look. It's a weird contrast, that expression with his priestly robes, the tattoos around his neck, and the earbuds dangling across his chest. He lifts up an inked hand and wiggles his fingers. "Idle hands are the tools of the devil, and all that. Give me something to do with these fingers, Natalia," he purrs, sliding two of them into his hot, lush mouth.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Pretty sure I've got a problem.
I'm addicted to more than just partying and coke and alcohol: I'm addicted to dangerous assholes. Kisten was proof of that. Why the hell did I ever let myself get involved with him in the first place? Clearly I was trying to piss my father off, to rebel and show him he wasn’t the boss of me.
He sure showed me.
"Natalia and I are going out," Mace snarls, moving over to stand in front of Arsen. I imagine that's a movement that forces most men back by sheer presence alone. Doesn't seem to do a damn thing to Arsen. He just lifts his head up to look into Mace's dark blue eyes. "Get out of the way of the bathroom."
"Oh?" Arsen says, quirking a single brow and standing up straight. "Was I stopping Natalia from entering it? I don't recall."
Mace lets out a vicious snarl that would've scared me shitless if it were directed my way. Arsen barely blinks.
"I've always told Hawke you were a liability. He leaves your crazy ass to wander until it's time for shit to go down. You're a nightmare just waiting to happen."
"Have you ever thought I'm so ridiculously useful that he has no choice but to put up with me?" Arsen pauses a moment and then in an instant, the knife in his hand is at Mace's throat. "I could've killed you just now and you'd have never seen it coming." He retracts the weapon, grins, and saunters off, spinning the blade as he goes.
"Stay away from him," Mace warns, glancing over his shoulder at me. Whatever he sees on my face must scare the crap out of him because he turns fully and comes to stand in front of me, putting two big hands on my shoulders. "I mean it. His name isn't a joke. If you get too close, you'll fucking burn."
I nod, but inside, I'm already dreaming of the delicious pain in those idle hands …
Told you I have problems.Chapter 6NATALIAThe clothes Mace purchased for me aren’t exactly my style: black flats, a long, black dress, and a wool coat. I look like I’m on my way to a funeral, but it's the thought that counts, right?
The guys have a fucking huge black Hummer parked like ten blocks away. I'm forced to walk them in the bright sunshine, looking over my shoulder every ten seconds like I expect my dad or one of his cronies to just leap out at me.
"You really drive one of these stupid things?" I ask when I climb in and look around the vehicle. It's not much of a shocker that the military uses these things; they look like mini-tanks.
"Plenty of room," Mace growls out, his voice so low and deep that goose bumps pebble up across my flesh and it takes three tries for me to swallow. I almost ask plenty of room for what? but the expression on the big man's face gives me all the answer I need. His pupils are big and dark, bleeding into the deep blue of his eyes.
Not at all surreptitiously, I glance down at his crotch for proof of his arousal, but I don't see anything and make a small moue of disappointment that causes Mace to grin at me.
"Heavy canvas. Hides all sorts of stains," he says, and I raise both brows. "Like blood," he adds after a moment which is just as sexy as … well, whatever it was we were both just thinking about.
