Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Wyn

This was a bad idea.

When I came to Rush House to ask for help, the last thing I expected was for the Sacred Sons to appoint Lucas West as my personal bodyguard. All I wanted were resources, like a private investigator or a connection over at the Sheriff's Station. Something I could use to shake some information loose. I wasn't looking for a grouchy, sexy-as-fuck shadow who I hated me.

All the guys leave the room, except for Lucas. He walks up to me, and my only consolation is that he looks just as pissed about this arrangement as I feel. "I guess it's you and me for a while," he says.

He's a couple of feet away from me, and I step forward, so I can push my index finger into his rock-hard chest. "Let me make one thing absolutely clear," I whisper harshly. "There will be zero finger fucking."

He smirks at that.

"I'm serious," I say. "If you go anywhere near my pussy, I swear, I'll choke you out in your sleep."

He laughs under his breath and tilts his head to the side, his heated gaze gobbling me up. "That might be fun, actually."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

With a scoff, I turn on my heel and head toward the door. He doesn't follow, but he calls out after me. "Where do you think you're going?"

I pull my phone out of my back pocket and glance at the time, then up at him, annoyed that we're even having this conversation. But I was the one who came looking for help, right? "The initiation starts in three hours. I'm going home to get some homework done before I have to get ready and be back here. Happy?"

He walks over to me with that confident rich-boy swagger. Once he's a foot or two in front of me, he holds his hand out. "I need the key to your place."

I audibly scoff at that. Is he serious?

"Um, no."

He tilts his head to the side. "You're the one who wanted help, right?"

Damn. I just said that exact thing to myself, and I wish I could argue against it, but whatever. This arrangement is only temporary, right? And maybe while he's shadowing me, I can convince him to use his endless power and resources to look into the Gabriel thing more.

Right now, I get the feeling none of them believe me. They're offering me support, sure, but that's because it's a part of their creed. After a week of Lucas shadowing me, and finding nothing, they'll say they've done what they could, then go right back to treating me like a damn pariah.

With a huff, I take my keys out of my pocket and pull my extra apartment key off my keychain. I only have the extra one with me because I was going to give it to Lux, just in case, but I never got around to doing it.

I hand him the key, and he takes it with a smirk. Goddamn, I want to slap that cocky smile right off his pretty-boy face so bad .

"I have some things to take care of, then I'll be right over."

Ugh. "The guy really only shows up at night, so I'm good for now."

He just shrugs one shoulder, then walks past me to the door. Before he walks out, he holds the key up over his head but says nothing. I'm not exactly sure what that's supposed to mean, but ugh, I've really managed to fuck myself now.

I head straight home, checking the cameras before I walk in. But everything is exactly the way I left it. No flowers waiting for me, no skulking stalkers. When I'm inside, I lock my door and double-check my windows and balcony doors before opening my fridge and grabbing some water. Then I watch something on my phone for a while, before getting up to take a shower.

But as the hot water pours over me, all I can think about is Lucas. When his mouth is shut, he's so fucking hot—tanned skin, cut muscles, and a strikingly handsome face that could make a girl come on command.

Ughhh.

I'm so lost in thoughts about Lucas that I end up shampooing my hair twice. By the time I rinse the soap out for the second time, the water is starting to get cold, so I turn it off and grab a clean towel from the rack I have next to the shower.

I always keep my bathroom door open. It's just me here, anyway. Well, me and the creep who breaks in occasionally, I guess. But it's a habit I can't seem to break and as I'm toweling off, I catch a flash of movement in my periphery vision.

With a sharp intake of breath, I pull the towel against my body to cover it. My heart lurches, stops, and then speeds up as I step closer to the door and peer out into the apartment.

There's a guy sitting at the foot of my bed, his muscular forearms braced on his thighs. I can't see his face, because he's looking down at his phone, but the shock of blond hair escaping from the edges of his backward ball cap immediately gives him away.

Lucas.

" Shit ," I say under my breath, my heart still thumping like a jackrabbit against my ribcage.

He hears my whispered curse and glances up. And I swear to God, when his electric blue eyes meet mine, I die real quick. Like, I can't feel my limbs and I'm not sure I'm breathing. The only evidence that I'm not actually dead is my heart. It's flopping around in my chest like a landed fish jumping around on a slab of cement.

And then he does something I didn't think was even possible. He smiles at me. It's just a split second suspended in time, like a reflex, and then it's gone again, replaced by that familiar scowl. But in that brief little moment, I saw something—a glimpse behind the mask that Lucas presents to the world. He was at ease, and there was a softness in his eyes that I'd never seen in him before.

Maybe Lucas West is actually human after all.

But none of that changes the fact that he just waltzed into my apartment without even giving me a heads-up. The audacity of this guy is unbelievable.

I pull the towel tighter around my body. "What the actual fuck, Lucas? I didn't give you the key to my apartment so you could just waltz in here whenever!"

He purses his lips and allows his gaze to wander over me slowly like he's eating up the sight of my barely clothed body. When finally replies, that familiar smirk is hovering on his lips. "Just forget I'm even here."

That's impossible and he knows it. Lucas fills up every square inch of my apartment with his presence. He's like that. When he walks into a room, everyone is aware of him. And I'm just supposed to ignore that somehow? It's like trying to ignore a snarling lion that's taken up residence in my bedroom.

I narrow my gaze at him. "Maybe I should just find a hotel, and we can forget this whole thing."

Never mind that I have zero dollars for a hotel.

With a heavy sigh, he leans back on my mattress and covers his eyes with the crook of his arm. "I'm not looking. Happy?"

He sneaks in here while I'm showering, then has the nerve to ask me if I'm happy? Jezus. This dude is unreal.

I'm still dripping wet, but I tip-toe over to my dresser, grab everything I need, and then scramble back to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I dress quickly, put on deodorant, and then do my wavy hair routine, which is a whole thing. I throw some light makeup on, and some perfume, then I'm done.

When I emerge from the bathroom twenty minutes later, Lucas is still exactly where I left him, leaning back and propped up on one elbow, watching me. "You done, finally?"

I shake my head and walk over to the small kitchen to make myself a cup of green tea. "Can we just not talk, hmmm? Can we do that?"

"You're not wearing that," he says from behind me.

I glance down at the short sundress I'd grabbed from my dresser. It's a pretty blue-green color with spaghetti straps and a floppy tie in the middle of my back. Maybe it's a little wrinkly, but I'll be wearing a robe over it, so who cares? "Why? What's wrong with my dress?"

Rising to his feet, he walks over to me, and without a word, he reaches under my dress easily and grabs a handful of my ass. His warm hand squeezes my cheek. I have panties on, but they're already riding up. "This is why," he says, practically growling the words.

I should be offended. I am offended. For sure. But even as I shove his hand away and take a step back, liquid fire is twisting through my veins. "You don't get to dictate what I wear."

"Change now ," he replies, almost bored.

"Um, how about no ?" I say. My God.

Without even skipping a beat, he grabs my arm and yanks me forward. Our bodies collide—my soft breasts against his rock-hard torso—and I gasp, because I'm not expecting it.

His lips hover enticingly over mine. "Either you change this fucking dress or I'll strip you down and do it for you."

I narrow my eyes and set my jaw, even as a seed of excitement blooms in my chest. What is it about his anger that makes me all kinds of horny? Shamefully, my clit is already sturring to life under that unforgiving glare.

Goddamn him. I know he'd follow through with his threat and God only knows where that would lead. I don't trust him and I definitely don't trust myself.

Glaring at him, I yank my arm out of his tight grip, back away, then turn and storm over to my tiny closet. I grab a black long-sleeved dress that falls to my ankles but shows a fair amount of cleavage. It's conservative, but still kinda sexy.

Taking the dress into the bathroom, I shut and lock the door, remove my cute sundress, and replace it with the drab evening dress that makes me look like a nun. A slutty nun with amazing tits, but still.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Lucas' gaze immediately falls to my cleavage. My breasts are front and center in this dress, but too fucking bad. It's the only dress I have that's even remotely modest.

His jaw clenches, but he doesn't say anything. He must know that saying anything at this point will push me over the absolute edge. "Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah," I push out with a sigh. "Let's get this shit over with."