Page 53 of I am Dressed in Sin (Death by Daybreak MC 2)
My armor … it’s working.
But Gaz, he’s a wildcard. I’m going to need to tread carefully here. If he even once catches me alone on the compound, I’ll be in big fucking trouble.
Beast follows me up to my grandmother’s room. Not sure how long I’ll be staying here, but for the time being, it’s mine. He waits in the doorway as I move into the room and flop onto the edge of the bed.
“You’re not coming in?” I query, raising an eyebrow. I gesture to a bottle of scotch on the nightstand. “I stole this last night while Cat was sleeping. Pretty sure it was my grandmother’s anyway. He won’t miss it.”
Beast gives me a ghost of a smile but not much more.
I study him in the dim light cast by the antique fixtures near the door. He’s a big guy, muscular and hard, his blond hair shaved on one side then carefully brushed over. Between the septum ring, the eclipse tattoo on his right arm, and the bright blue eyes, he could be a model.
“No thanks, sugar. If I step into that room, and I close this door …” He trails off as he studies me, my heart thundering under the intensity of his gaze. He may as well be fucking me for how he’s staring right now, like his stare is capable of cutting me apart and seeing all the secrets lying underneath. Not that there are any left. Me and Beast, we’re done with secrets. “Well, then I won’t be able to keep my promise.”
I lean back on the bed, shameless as I rub my thighs together. He watches me, but he’s got that ironclad control that’s always pissed me off. I still find myself surprised sometimes that he ever fucked me at all. As much as he’s proud of his self-control, I’m proud of my ability to whittle away at it.
“Suit yourself,” I murmur, turning over and putting my ass in the air as I pretend to strain for the bottle of scotch. Really, it’s in easy reach. Without looking back, I unscrew the top and take a swig.
The sound of boots on the carpet gives me pause, and then there he is, taking a seat in a leather chair across the room from me. He sinks into it the way a jaguar might sink into a hunting crouch, all fluid muscles and well-oiled joints.
The bedroom door, however, is still open.
Intentional, I’m sure.
“I hope Gaz does hit me again,” I say, forcing myself into a sitting position and leaving the bottle between my knees. Whatever this shit is, it’s smooth and it goes down without a hitch when I take another swig, warming up my lower belly. “Then you can kill him, and we can be done with his ass.”
Beast is quiet for several heartbeats, his big, tattooed hands resting on the arms of the chair.
“Don’t wish for that, Gidge,” he drawls, the vowels long and sleepy and warm. I could curl up inside of his words. Instead, I watch him warily, taking another sip of my stolen drink. “Your brother’s a dangerous man, and he’s made himself pretty popular among the other Daybreakers.”
“And you? Don’t tell me you’re not popular,” I admonish, letting the alcohol make me bold. If my life were a game, then clearly the pause button’s been hit. Nothing is happening right now. Soon, the world will shift; I can feel it. Just like the Daybreaker’s logo, the moon will eclipse the sun and usher in darkness.
Death by Daybreak versus Grey Wolfe.
I shift uncomfortably, turning to look out the open balcony doors, a sea of stars beyond.
If I listen carefully, I can almost hear Grey whispering to me in Italian. Fuck, I miss him already. He’s like … like a male Reba. They’re not at all similar in personality or interests of course, but what I mean is that he felt like a friend in a way that only Reba has before. Someone who actually cared about me with little in the way of motive.
No sex, no secrets, no bullshit. Just companionship.
“The other men are afraid of me,” Beast admits finally, when I’d almost forgotten that I asked him a question at all. He thinks about every single syllable. Grainger, on the other hand, can’t keep his damn mouth shut. Another swig, more burning, an even warmer belly. Beast runs his hand over that neatly trimmed beard of his, studying me. “For now, that’s enough. Eventually, it might not be.”
“Gaz?” I say again with a long-suffering sigh. “I always found him pathetic, but are you trying to tell me he’s a real threat?”
Another long, pregnant pause before Beast stands up and heads over to the bedroom door. He closes it and flicks the lock, moving over to the open balcony doors to do the same. Then, he pauses in the corner and plays around with the old gramophone.
