9. Chapter 9

9

Wren

" I t's a brave thing you did back there," he rumbles, his voice a deep, raspy growl that vibrates in the air between us. "To… risk your life for Sophia… and her junkie brother."

His words feel like a crushing blow, and it hits like a slap to my pride. Rationally, I get he's just being… nice?

But, brave? Me? Fuck, nobody's ever called me that before. I want to laugh it off, tell him he's full of shit, but something in his eyes stops me. He's not bullshitting me or trying to get in my pants. He actually means it.

He's different from the last time I saw him at Sophia's wedding to a fucking Russian mafia boss.

My best friend is married to D's boss.

He looks… harder somehow, if that's even possible.

Whatever the reason, it's obvious he's pissed.

The anger rolling off him is almost tangible, but there's something else there, too. Understanding, maybe?

His eyes flick over my barely-there outfit, and I see his jaw clench. But he's not judging me. It's like he sees past all this bullshit right through to the scared, fucked-up kid inside. And that… that scares the shit out of me.

Before I can stop myself, I'm moving toward him. My hands reach for his neck, pulling him down. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but I can't seem to stop. I graze his cheek with my lips, a fleeting touch, quick as a breath. Like a fucking thank you that I can't bring myself to say out loud.

Fuck , something's wrong with me today.

I tilt my head up, and goddamn, he's not just tall, he's a fucking redwood on steroids.

But instead of backing away, I see flames fuming through his eyes. D's face transforms in seconds—shock, then anger, then something else. Something raw and hungry that matches the fucked-up mess inside me.

I should be afraid, but I'm not.

My heart's pounding, but it's not fear.

It's recognition.

Like recognizes like , and we're both damaged goods.

His jaw clenches, muscles twitching under his skin. Those piercing blue eyes are burning holes right through me, seeing all the shit I try to hide.

"What the hell did you kiss me for?" he growls, a vein in his neck pulsing like a trapped snake.

I shrug, trying to play it cool, even though my skin's on fire. "Just found you… cute. "

I take a step closer, tilting my chin up to look him dead in the eye.

Fuck it, if I'm gonna poke the bear, might as well go all in.

" Cute ?" he repeats, like the word's poison in his mouth. His eyes narrow, and for a second, I think he might actually snap my neck. Or maybe throw me against the wall. Both options are looking pretty good right now.

"Yeah, cute . You know, in that ‘could probably kill me with your pinky' kinda way." I smirk, watching his jaw clench even tighter.

He leans in, close enough that I can feel his breath on my face. "You've got a death wish or something, malyshka ?"

"Maybe," I breathe, not backing down. "Or maybe I just like playing with fire."

Something flashes in his eyes—anger, desire—fuck if I know. But before I can blink, his hand's in my hair, yanking my head back as his mouth crashes onto mine.

It's not a kiss so much as a battle. All teeth and tongue and pent-up rage. I give as good as I get, sucking his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

I let out a low moan, gasping for air, and the wet sounds of our mouths moving against each other fill the air.

He growls into my mouth, shoving me back against the alley wall with a force that sends pain shooting through my back. His body presses against mine, hard and unrelenting. Fear should be coursing through me, but all I feel is a raw energy.

I fucking feel alive.

"This what you wanted?" he snarls, breaking our kiss to glower at me with eyes that blaze like wildfire.

I lick my lips, savoring the taste of him there. "It's a start."

His hands grip my neck, fingers digging in just enough to make it hard to breathe. Each squeeze is like a bolt of electricity, jolting me with excitement and fear. I can feel his breath on my skin, hot and heavy, as if he's about to burst into flames.

D's body presses harder against mine, causing the brick wall behind me to dig painfully into my spine. But the pain is nothing compared to the heat radiating from him, the scent of smoke and vodka that fills my senses.

We both want this so badly, and it's evident in every move we make.

I can feel the massive bulge of his cock pressing against me. I grind against it; I want to feel every inch of its hardness filling me up and making me come undone. To make me scream with pleasure. I need it to make me come, to fulfill my deepest, most primal desires.

"Fuck," I gasp, arching into him as he grinds against me. "C'mon, big guy. Show me what you've got."

For a moment, his eyes darken with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. His grip tightens even more, and I think he's finally going to let go.

But then something changes.

He freezes in place, his entire body stiffening as if he's been shocked. Suddenly, he pushes away from me with a force that sends me stumbling back, like I've burned him.

Without a word, he turns and storms off, leaving me slumped against the wall, breathless and horny.

What the actual fuck just happened?