Page 96 of Dangerous Men

Fingertips still holding her chin, I raise my eyes to meet her gaze, letting her see the answer there.

Do I know Alec well enough to know he’d want to wrap his hands around her pretty little throat while he fucked her? To know he’d get off on holding her down, feeling her pulse race under his fingers?

“I know,” I tell her.

She swallows harder this time and looks away.

I keep a med kit in my laptop bag, just a small one for emergencies. In our line of work, there are a lot of emergencies. I reluctantly let go of her face, reaching into my bag to pull out a small tube of antiseptic ointment.

It’s probably unnecessary for such a superficial wound, but I apply a thin coat to the scratch, anyway.

“Is there anywhere else I need to look?” I ask, screwing the cap back on the ointment and sliding it back into my med kit. “Any other injuries?”

Her eyes go wide.

“Of course not,” she tells me tersely, like she can’t imagine there’d be anywhere else he could possibly have left a mark.

Me? I can list a thousand.

Like her pretty little ankles, if Alec had gotten out his ropes and tied her up. Bondage has always been something he’s favored with the women he brings home.

Like the muscles in her jaw if he’d used a ball gag, forcing that perfect little mouth of hers to open uncomfortably wide.

Or the soft, golden skin on her back if Ashton had been involved. I’ve seen the damage he likes to do with his whips. The way he likes to mark his women.

I don’t even bother thinking about all the ways Viper would hurt her.

I don’t say any of these, of course. Her question is more than enough to assure me she isn’t injured anywhere else, in any way that matters.

“Do you have a bathtub in your apartment?” I ask her. I already know the answer. But I wait for her nod before I type a quick note to myself on my phone, setting an alert to remind me to stop by the pharmacy when I leave. “I’ll pick up some Epsom salt for you. Add a quarter of a cup to your bathwater tonight. That will help with any lingering… soreness.”

She shoots me a quizzical look, but the way she subtly clenches her legs together, shifting on her chair, confirms exactly what soreness she’s dealing with. And explains the slight hesitation in the way she’s been moving.

I wish I’d been there to see it. To watch him take her. Thebruising on her wrists and neck tells me he wasn’t gentle. Did she like it rough? Did she beg him to fuck her harder? Faster? Did he spend hours playing with her, getting her ready to take him, working her until she was dripping wet and needy? Or did he make her take it hard, holding her down and forcing it in, inch by inch?

I don’t realize I’m frozen, lost in my own thoughts, still holding my phone, until Sydney speaks.

“Earth to Sebastian?” she says, waving her hand in front of my face. She wets her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue when I look at her. “Why are you helping me?”

The phone in my hand springs to life, the vibration from an incoming call cutting her off.

One glance at the screen, and I feel my stomach drop.

“I have to take this,” I say, the words coming out too fast. I stand, knocking my chair back an inch in the process. To anyone else, it would be a normal, almost natural movement.

For me, it’s a full-blown meltdown.

I let the phone continue to ring until I’m far enough from the table that I know she won’t overhear, ducking into the literary fiction section of her store. Only then do I accept the call.

“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.

There’s a long pause on the other end, followed by a smooth exhale, almost like a sigh. I can picture exactly how Viper looks in this moment, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he exhales smoke, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He likes to keep his hands free.

“Why would something be wrong, Doc?” he asks.

If he hears the panic in my voice, he betrays nothing. I listen for the soft tap of him ashing his cigarette.

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until Thursday,” I remind him. Viper never calls early unless there’s a problem.