Lethal Temptations (Tempted #5)(11)



I didn’t bother with a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom into the scene of the crime, staring at the desk where I f*cked her.

Fucked her.

Her first time.

The f*cking blood on my dick was the evidence.

Tainted by filth.

Branded by me.

The deeper I got inside of her, the deeper I drew my mark in her, branding her mine. Not just because I was the only one to have her but because the beast inside me threatened to never let her go.

I was f*cked.

I had wanted her and more than wanting her, I wanted to ruin myself. I used Lacey mindlessly, to take away my pain, to secure a way out of this hell—to f*ck the sweet little thing that’s had my head up in knots for some time now.

I never banked on wanting her to make me feel. Instead of craving numbness, I yearned to feel and not the pain and suffering I was used to but the sweet agony of being inside her. It was ironic that she brought me pleasure, something foreign to me, and I brought her pain, something she came here last night looking to be freed from.

“Blackie, please look at me,” she pleaded.

“I’m done looking at you, Lace.”

As much as I was fixed on Lacey, I was nobody’s hero. I wasn’t some guy here to rescue her and take care of her. I was the kind of guy her father put a lot of effort into keeping her away from. I was the devil, and she was a goddamn angel.

I clipped her wings last night, and it was my job to fix that. I’d go talk to her, smooth shit over and tell her I was sorry for being a world class dick. The thought alone made me sick but severing the light she provided me with…that shit was vile.

I was f*cked in so many ways and had no one to blame but myself…I wouldn’t blame it on the drugs either because I wasn’t a * like that.

Fucked beyond repair.

A dead man walking.

I grabbed my jeans, pulling them up my legs when my door opened and Wolf strode through.

“Put that shit away,” he said, tipping his chin towards my junk.

“Don’t you f*cking knock?” I growled.

“You wouldn’t have answered,” he said pointedly, walking around my room and leaned against the desk. The f*cking desk of all things, not the f*cking dresser or the damn entertainment center…the goddamn desk.

“What do you want?” I said, pulling a T-shirt over my head.

“The Bulldog is AWOL, you know anything about that shit?”

“Yeah and so do you. Man’s gone off the radar on the same day, every year, for the last thirteen years,” I replied, crossing my arms against my chest.

“But he’s always back before the sun comes up,” he paused, his eyes pierced mine as he swallowed. “Tensions been rising around here. I’m not f*cking blind, Black. I know you and the Prez got something brewing and the rest of us are here holding our dicks while you two figure out what that shit is,” he ground out, pushing off the desk and advancing towards me. “I’ve been around long enough to know when shit gets heavy, he starts to lose his battle with his mind. Someone’s gotta reel him back in and that someone’s always been you,” he added.

“He got himself a woman to do the reeling. In fact, lent her my truck yesterday so she could do just that,” I retorted.

“* can’t shake the crazy, Black. Go get your f*cking wheels back and while you’re at it, bring back our leader,” he demanded, leveling me with a stare.

I may rank higher than Wolf but he was the heart of our brotherhood, the glue that held us together when it started to wear. As f*cking off the wall as he sometimes could be, he was also the guy who kept shit real around here.

The club didn’t know about Jimmy, they had no f*cking clue he killed Jack’s brother or that we were playing the gangster. Jack had wanted to keep the club out of it, said this shit with Jimmy was personal and when the connection between the mobster and the G-Man came to light, I agreed with him. It was f*cking personal as retribution and revenge usually are.

My self-destruction and my guilt over Lacey would have to take a backseat to the vow I made to my brotherhood. I was the vice president and it was my duty to be Jack’s eyes and ears, his voice when his cracked and his mind when it failed him. Restoring my angel’s wings and the light that radiated over her would have to wait.

The devil.

Here I am.

“I’m driving,” I muttered.

“Fuck that, I want to live to see the next piece of ass I bang,” he replied, twirling his keys around his finger. “You can ride bitch,” he said with a grin.

Fucking Wolf.

For a man who cared so much about living to f*ck, he drove like a man looking to die. I closed my eyes like a * as he blew lights and swerved in and out of traffic. The crazy motherf*cker didn’t drive a cage much but when he was behind the wheel his ass went fast and furious.

He pulled in front of Jack’s house, nodding towards the Bulldog’s bike that sat in the driveway and my truck parked behind it.

“At least Blondie kept your truck in one piece,” he commented.

I grunted, reaching for the door handle.

“Good luck,” he called as I climbed out of the car and slammed the door. I grabbed my balls and climbed the stoop, taking a deep breath as I pounded my knuckles against the door.

I closed my eyes, threw my game face on, because I was about to be the scumbag who looked my brother in the eye, the same friend who created my angel, and pretend like I didn’t destroy her.

Janine Infante Bosco's Books