Page 73 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

KILLIAN

Once we’re done handling business, I leave the clubhouse. There’s a heaviness in my chest as I do, weighing me down as I head for my bike, and that’s an unfamiliar feeling for me.

I’ve never been accused of being an emotional person, and guilt is an almost entirely foreign feeling.

The things I do never give me pause, and they don’t weigh on me after I’ve done them.

Everything is done for a reason, so there’s no need to feel guilt.

But I don’t feel right about the fact that we ever agreed to work for The Saint.

I never once felt bad about stalking Quinn. Not even when she found out and was pissed at me for it. Because it never hurt her. I never felt bad about lying to her about it either, because if I had told her the truth right away, she wouldn’t have been ready to hear it.

Things had to happen the way they did, and I believe that.

But this is different. Maybe it’s because this job is meant to benefit someone else entirely, and we don’t know the point to it or what the end goal is. We’re just spying on Quinn for someone else’s benefit.

I shake my head, trying to clear the chaotic tangle of my thoughts. I don’t like it when it gets like that, everything jumbled up, one thought tangled in another with no idea where one ends and the other begins. I like things more orderly, everything with a place and a process.

There’s no point in stewing about this anyway. I’ve chosen to trust Nico, and I do trust his judgement. After the meeting we just had, we’re all on the same page, and I know we’ve made the right choice.

I get on my bike and head back toward the house, leaving Nico and Atlas to handle the other Carnage business that needs to be dealt with. It doesn’t require me to be there, more suited for the two of them, and I use the bike ride to clear my head further.

When I arrive, I find Quinn in the living room. She’s sitting on the couch, watching the steam curl into the air from a cup of tea that’s sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

She looks up when I come in, and something flashes across her face. It’s not a happy look. I know she was handling her own business with her gang today, so maybe something went badly with that.

Whatever it is, concern for her ripples through me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

There’s agitation in her, I can tell that much. Her shoulders are tucked up around her ears, and she keeps trying hard not to look at me.

Quinn gets up, grabbing her cup and heading toward the kitchen with it. Even the way she’s holding herself is… off . Proof that something is definitely bothering her.

“Nothing,” she says over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Just… antsy, I guess. I’m sick of fucking waiting for Silas to show himself. It’s been days. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

I follow her into the kitchen, watching as she dumps the remainder of the tea down the sink. “It’s not a bad idea. It will work, eventually.”

She nods, turning away from me, but I step in front of her, trying to catch her gaze. We’re all frustrated by the lack of progress so far with our stakeout of the pawn shop, but I can tell there’s more to it than that with Quinn right now.

“Something else is upsetting you,” I tell her quietly, catching her chin and tilting her head up. “I know you, siren. I can see it. What’s going on?”

She stares up at me for a long moment, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

Her face is a curious mixture of open and closed off, thoughts and emotions flickering through her eyes, but not clear enough for me to read.

That bothers me, because normally I can interpret those little things more easily.

At the moment though, all I can tell is that something isn’t right.

“Tell me,” I say. “Whatever it is, I want to fix it.”

She sucks in a breath through her nose, her throat moving as she swallows.

Then, instead of answering, she reaches for me suddenly, fisting the front of my shirt with one hand and pulling me in close.

I can feel the strength in her as she does, and I go easily when she pulls.

Her body melds against mine as her lips find my neck, hot and warm and hungry.

She kisses her way up my throat, flooding my senses with the smell and feel of her.

Softness wrapped around strength. Beautiful, bright teal. Jasmine, honey, and a hint of smoke.

Although I followed her for months, fucked her countless times at that club, and have been living under the same roof as her for weeks, having her this close is still overwhelming—just like it was the very first time.

Nothing and no one has ever affected me like she does.

Everything else may as well exist in shades of gray, because she’s the only color I see.

Her teeth scrape against my neck, her tongue darting out to lick my skin, and I can’t help the way my body responds. It always responds to her, a flash of heat going down my spine as my cock starts to harden in my pants.

I spread one hand along the small of her back, letting her mouth roam over my neck as I drag her closer. Then she bites down hard on the juncture where my neck and shoulder meet, sending a shock of pain through me that goes straight to my cock.

I grunt with the pleasure of it, my hips bucking forward to grind against her.

Quinn draws back, her plush lips slightly parted, breathing hard.

For a long moment, there’s a taut silence between us, her gray eyes bouncing between mine like she’s not sure what she wants to do.

Then she turns and darts out of the room, racing up the stairs.

Instantly, my predator’s instinct is activated. She’s always been able to do that to me, bringing out a side I never knew existed until that first time at Le Bal Masque.

I’m already moving before I make the conscious decision to chase her, hot on her heels as I take the stairs two at a time.

I catch her right at the top landing and wrap an arm around her, dragging her back against my chest. I have one arm wrapped above her breasts and one arm below them, and I can feel the heavy thud of her heart as it pounds against her ribs.

She struggles in my hold, squirming against me in a way that makes my dick thicken even more.

I know why she used to come to the club. I know exactly what she needed, and I was always ready to give it to her. And right now, I think she wants the same thing.

This might be exactly what she needs to release all of her pent up agitation.

My fingers tangle in her hair, tugging her head sharply to one side so that I can nip at her ear and grind my clothed cock against the swell of her ass.

“Do you want to get fucked, siren?” I growl in her ear.