UnHinge Me (Savage Beast MC #6) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,34

rasps, lifting his eyes to look up into mine.

“Change your mind?” I breathe.

He releases my hair, his hand sliding down my back and stopping in the middle. I feel his warm palm press against me, the other hand is at my hip, gripping me tightly. His black eyes are now dancing as he watches me.

“Yeah, babe. Change my mind. Make yourself not so fucking temporary.”

“How?” I exhale.

Slowly he straightens, his chin tipping down as mine lifts so that we don’t break eye contact. His expression is full of his arrogance, of his stubbornness as he watches me, waiting for me to say something else, perhaps to beg? But I don’t.

I wait for him.

I’ll keep waiting for him, because I’m not sure how I’m supposed to change his mind, I have a feeling once that is set, there is no changing anything about it. He made up his mind about me the second he laid eyes on me, he’s just playing with me right now.

I’m the mouse to his cat.

“I’m sure you’ll think of a way,” he rasps.

His voice is soft, giving the illusion of tenderness. I know he doesn’t possess that tenderness, not that I’ve seen and even if I want to believe that it’s there, I refuse to allow myself the fantasy.

Instead of attempting to change his mind in any way, I decide to just make myself useful in the one way that I know will at least keep him not only occupied but also satisfied for at least a little while.

Holding out my hand, I wait for him to slip his inside, when he does, I walk toward his old childhood bedroom. Until we have sheets for the master, we’ll have to continue to stay in here, which honestly, I don’t mind. It’s kind of fun to be in a teenage boy’s space, even if he is very much all man now.

“Leighton, is this your attempt to change my mind?” he asks on a chuckle.

Looking back over my shoulder, I give him a small smile. “Honey, sex wouldn’t change a damn thing in your head. I’m not foolish enough to think that I could ever use sex to get anything from you.”

He chuckles, squeezing my hand with his own. “Good girl,” he says, his voice rumbling in the small room.

“It sure feels good though,” I breathe as I turn around to face him.

He grunts, dipping his chin. “Feels better with you than it has with anyone in a hell of a long time,” he says.

Judging by the way his eyes widen, I don’t think that he intended to say that aloud. I don’t call him on anything. I pretend like I don’t hear him at all. Instead, I take off my clothes and I let him give me what I truly need, which isn’t fucking dishes.

MOUNTAIN

My phone buzzes in my hand. I don’t sleep a lot, never really did. When you are woken up in the middle of sleep by your high as shit brother beating the shit out of you, eventually, you learn to sleep actively or not at all.

Slipping from the uncomfortable as fuck bed, I walk out of the room, closing the door behind me. Sliding my thumb across my cracked screen, I lift it to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Need you to do this next run,” Dragon grunts.

He sounds tired. I don’t blame him. We’ve been running hard lately, burning the candles at both ends. The vigilante end and the criminal end. Fact is, being vigilantes doesn’t pay the fucking bills, and boy, do we have bills to pay these days.

Everyone’s popping out kids left and right, buying and building houses, growing the fuck up. Granted, most of us are in our forties, so this is about two decades late, but better late than never, I guess.

“Got a problem with that,” I say.

“It’s New York, brother,” he practically sings.

New York.

He knows that is enticing, to say the least.

Not because I just love the city. Doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with the city that never sleeps itself and everything to do with the high-class call girls I visit every time that I go. Every single fucking time. They cost me a mint, but they are worth every single penny.

“Yeah? What do I do with the girl in my house?”

There’s a moment of silence. Too long of a moment, then he clears his throat. “You’re keeping her?” he asks.

I almost mention the fact that the girl I found in the back of the transport truck, the whore