Page 13 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
"Goddamn it," he growls out, scooping me up and into his arms. It feels wrong, to have him hold me the way he is with another man's cum between my thighs. "Six weeks in that institution did nothing for you, did it?"
"Institution?" I whisper, and Mace flicks his dark blue eyes down to mine. There’s a fire burning there, but a cold one, like a dangerous ember that threatens to turn everything else into an inferno. It just needs a little help.
What if I were to offer some?
"He's been locked up for six weeks in one of the company's mental health facilities. Most of that time spent in solitary fucking confinement because he's goddamn insane!" Mace yells this last part out, and my face flushes.
If Arsen were in solitary confinement, then he definitely wasn't fucking, snorting coke, and drinking himself into a stupor, now was he?
I feel relieved.
In reality, I should be terrified that I'm in some sort of dominant/submissive sexual relationship with a man who needs to be locked up for six weeks to keep him from snapping.
"You haven't touched me for weeks," I say, almost an accusation. No, definitely an accusation.
"Natalia," Mace starts, his voice a grumble, his body a mountain of muscles, so big that I just barely catch sight of Hawke disappearing down the stairs behind him.
"Fuck me, please," I say, feeling my body pulse with need. Mace looks at me for a long, hard moment, and then curses under his breath. He's going to turn me down, isn't he? And why shouldn't he, when I'm still aching from Arsen's hard fingers, the rough push of his cock inside of me ...
"Get your asses downstairs now!" Hawke bellows, and I jump. Mace sets me on the edge of the bed, happy to have an excuse not to respond to my request, and then turns his back on me while I hobble to the bathroom to clean up.
Fucking Arsen.
I'm gritting my teeth, and am in a seriously pissed off mood when I come downstairs. Arsen has the audacity to be at the stove, whipping up something that smells so good I almost forgive him for leaving me sans orgasm.
As soon as I see him clutching that spatula, an apron thrown over his muscular shoulders, my nipples harden to diamond points. One day, this obsession I have with the crazy man is going to get me killed, I think to myself.
"Finally, Natalia chooses to grace us with her presence," Hawke growls out, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his gray eyes painted with fury.
Uh-oh.
I think I might be in trouble.Chapter 4NataliaSix weeks isn't long enough to fully stamp out my natural reactions, but thankfully it's enough that I grab hold of the sassy comeback before it leaves my lips.
"Something to say, recruit?" Hawke asks me in a dark, dangerous growl. His eyes are hot and angry, and it makes me want to push all his buttons.
"Nothing at all, sir," I snap back at him with a defiant lift of my chin. My gaze holds his in silent challenge despite the fact I know he'll make me pay for it later. Sadly, these days that means a grueling work out session. Clothed. Non-sexual. Nothing even remotely close to that rendezvous we'd had on the church altar... the one that'd killed a nun from shock.
Heaving a sigh at the memory, I bypass the empty seat between Hawke and Mace and squeeze my ass into the tiny gap on the wooden bench against the wall. Right between Colt and Weston.
Okay so there really isn't enough space for me to fit so I end up practically sitting in Weston's lap. Not that he seems to mind, if the arm he snakes around my waist is anything to go by. Heat seeps into me, and I make a very blatant move to cover his hand with one of my own.
"We have plenty of available seats, Miss Petrova," Hawke bites out, not even trying to hide his temper anymore. He waves a tense hand around the room, pointing out all the vacant, mismatched chairs around the overly large dining table.
"She's fine where she is," Weston answers for me, his hand tightening against my now much firmer abs. When I say that Hawke and Mace have been training me, I mean it. I've never been so fit in my life, and my body’s reflecting that in muscle tone.
Surprised at Weston taking my side, I bite my lower lip and watch Hawke like, well, like a hawk. Things have been getting more tense by the day between us, and now that Weston, Colt and Arsen are all back under the same roof I feel like shit's about to hit the fan.
Whatever our team leader’s reply was going to be, Mace stops him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. Their eyes meet in that intense bro stare that somehow carries whole conversations without a single word being spoken, and after a long moment, Hawke shrugs his friend’s hand off his shoulder and turns back to us all.
