Knight by Lana Grayson Page A

this.
    I didn’t move my hand from his chest.
    “I never planned to split the club,” he said. “I wanted to protect it. I saw this conflict with Temple coming, and I tried to prevent it.”
    “Still think it was the right choice?”
    “You think I like having those deaths on my head? That bloodshed? That I like living in squalor and watching over my shoulder every day? I expect a knife in the back at any minute. Now the only mystery is who will twist the blade.”
    “You made that bed.”
    “And now there’s no one to share it.”
    “You’re damn right.”
    “I want to keep you safe.”
    I tugged my hand back and retreated to the entry, hoping he’d take the hint.
    He didn’t.
    He edged me close to the wall. I had been cornered before, but no man had ever managed to pin me. Wasn’t happening now. Wasn’t happening ever .
    I licked my lips. He stared at mine as hungrily as I stared at his. “It’s not your place to keep me safe.”
    “It can be if you want. I’ll shield you from Temple. From ATF.”
    “Only if you had an Anathema patch on that cut.”
    “They can’t watch over you.”
    “Neither can you.”
    “Bullshit.” Luke’s voice roughened, hard and honest. “I’d do anything for you, Lyn. Fucking anything. Anything you needed. Anything you wanted.”
    I believed him. I had no reason not to imagine the life he offered, the touches he promised, and the happiness he could create. But his fingers caressed the bruises on my cheek. Those black and blue marks were every reason to not accept a single fairy tale he wove.
    “I don’t want anything from you, Luke. Not now, not ever.”
    He didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe myself.
    He pushed me into the wall. I prepared to fight, but his kiss was better than magic, hotter than flame, and more addicting than the drugs I banned from my club. I gripped his arms to push him away. It only opened me to more of his touch.
    His body angled against mine, his leg opening the robe—more conquering bandit than noble hero. I shivered as the cool air brushed my skin. The leather of his cut pressed against my breasts.
    Felt that a lot at Sorceress, but I hadn’t with him.
    Not for so long. Not since the last time he touched me, kissed me, started to fuck me…
    His tongue flicked over mine. Too many memories. I pulled him close, delighting in the rough press of his lips. His fingers curled over my hips. The robe threatened to fall.
    I couldn’t.
    I wasn’t the one who made bad decisions—he was. I didn’t have the cut or the gang to watch my ass when I made a mistake. Despite his promises, I was on my own, and I had been since he pulled the trigger and started the war.
    I pushed him away, gasping for breath as his touched shuddered too deep in my core. I pointed to the door. He didn’t move.
    He tensed, ragged, suffering the same frustration and wanting that nearly crippled me. I groped to the door, flinging it open.
    “Why?” His voice warmed everything beneath my robe. “Why the hell won’t you admit there’s something between us?”
    My fingers tightened on the door, squeezing white enough Luke could see my hesitance.
    “Because, unlike you?” My whisper hurt more than pushing him away. “I have a sense of loyalty.”
     

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
     
    Wednesday Night – 11 PM
    Washington and Fifth, heading South on the 9.
    Full squad – full night run – stay clear
     
    I wasn’t used to getting unmarked messages left in my door, and I knew better than to let the unlabeled boxes near.
    Whoever sent the letter was as much a mystery as the contents.
    The implications caught my attention. Gnawed at me until every nerve was exposed, raw and tight. It sounded like a warning. It also read like an invitation.
    One problem multiplied, and every explanation left a bad taste in my mouth—copper and tangy.
    I burned the letter as soon as I read it. I memorized the words, coincidentally penned without the courtesy of a name. Then again, they