Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(16)

It was enough to tempt a saint, and I was no f*cking saint.

My mind might know why she was half-naked, but my body hadn’t gotten the memo. It hadn’t even been in the same damn office as my brain at the time of delivery.

I knew she had to be shaken up from what those pricks in the alley had wanted to do, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her hair cascaded down her back, inexplicably curling at the ends. Those blue eyes I’d been fantasizing about didn’t have the same sparkle in them that they’d had earlier, and that pissed me off.

Those little *s had stolen her sparkle.

She watched me, her dimples currently hidden. Her large breasts were clearly visible through the fabric of her bra, and she didn’t even bother to try to hide her rosy nipples from me. Her hard rosy nipples, which were practically begging for my mouth.

Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, she was trying to kill me.

Her waist tapered in, and her generous hips flared out. Hips that were meant for a man’s hands to hold while he was making her scream out his name.

No, not a man.

This man: me. Only me.

The shorts clung to the curves of her ass and her upper thighs, leaving the rest of her legs bare all the way down to her blue Converse sneakers. And she was in my apartment. Staring at me.

“Heidi . . .”

She fidgeted with her hands in front of herself. “Okay, in retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have done that. But I couldn’t wear that shirt for another second. You know?”

Something twisted hard in my chest at her choked words. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was my heart. But I knew I didn’t have one anymore. I had a hunch that her admission hadn’t come easily to her. It wouldn’t have come easily to me, either.

She and I were a lot alike.

Standing up, I crossed the room and cupped her cheeks, brushing a thumb over her split lip. The gesture was tender and way too gentle for me, but I couldn’t help it. Not when she looked so scared and uncertain. “It’s okay, darlin’. I’ll get you a shirt.”

“Thank you,” she said, still not looking away from me.

Reluctantly, I let her go and walked into my bedroom. Grabbing my favorite shirt, I handed it to her, balled up in my fist. “Here.”

She took it, a small smile lighting up her pale face. “Blue. Of course.”

“Yeah.” I cocked a brow. “And?”

“You like blue,” she said.

I did, but I couldn’t remember telling her that. “Put it on.”

“Oh. Right.” She slipped it over her head. After she had her arms through the holes, she hugged it close and whispered, “Thank you, Lucas.”

It was the first time she’d willingly used my name. I liked the way it sounded on her lips. All soft and sweet and seductive. But the way she looked at me, with her sparkling blue eyes, made my stomach clench tight and roll into one big knot. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She blinked her blue eyes at me. “Like what?”

“Like I’m your hero or something.” I tugged on my hair and glanced away. “It’s not like I saved you out of the goodness of my heart. I don’t have one anymore. I’m not that guy. I’m the type of guy that attacks people in alleys—not the other way around.”

She shook her head, those blue eyes never leaving me. “Your halo may be tarnished, yet you still saved me. That means more than if you were the hero type.”

Again, something twisted in my chest. She was trying to turn me into a pansy, and I wasn’t going to let her. “No. It doesn’t.”

“Sit down.” She gestured to the couch impatiently. “I need to clean that wound.”

Without arguing, I sat down. She sat on the table in front of me, situating her legs on either side of mine. It took a hell of a lot of control not to grip her thighs and spread them even wider for me. “You’re mine now.”

She pulled out the pad soaked in rubbing alcohol, ripping the packet open. “Excuse me?”

“What I mean to say is that since I claimed you as mine, you have to pretend to be with me. Bitter Hill is gonna check into my claim, guaranteed.” I closed my eyes, letting her fuss over me. It burned like a bitch, but I didn’t make a peep. I didn’t need her to take care of me, but I had a feeling she needed to take care of me. To calm her nerves. So I let her. “You need to be mine now.”

“So romantic,” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not asking you to actually hook up with me,” I said, my voice hard. “I’m not a relationship type of guy. I don’t do love, or the whole boyfriend shit.”

She laughed. “Yeah. I kinda got that impression already.”

“I like variety in my life,” I said, opening my eyes. She watched me with a softness I hadn’t managed to chase away yet. But eventually I would. I always did, in the end. “You’re doing it again.”

She threw her hands up. “You can’t tell me how I’m allowed to look at you, for the love of God.”

“Actually, I—”

“I’m not one of your crew who you can just boss around, Lucky.” She pulled out the Neosporin, squirted it on her finger, and rubbed it into the gash on my head. I barely kept from wincing. “What’s it like?”