Page 27 of Tinsel & Chrome

Larissa

The cold air bites at my cheeks as I stand on the back porch of the clubhouse, watching the snow drift lazily to the ground. The world is silent, blanketed in white, but my mind is anything but quiet.

Cyclops wants me protected. Mace is seething. Tex is glued to my side like a shadow with a hard-on.

And I feel like a caged animal.

The door creaks behind me. I know who it is before he speaks. The heat that rolls off Tex is unmistakable, even in the dead of winter.

“You’re gonna freeze your ass off out here,”

he says, his voice a low rumble.

“Maybe I like the cold,”

I reply, not turning around.

Boots crunch on the snow-dusted wood as he closes the distance between us. His gloved hands slide onto my hips, the touch possessive and grounding.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to avoid everyone.”

I let out a sharp breath.

“Is that so wrong?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his hands tighten, pulling me back against his chest. The solid wall of him is a comfort I’m not ready to admit out loud.

“Nah, it’s not wrong,”

he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear.

“But you’re not alone anymore, Larissa.”

His words scrape against something raw inside me. The part that wants to believe him, to let myself lean on someone without fear of falling. But trust doesn’t come easy when you’ve been burned.

I turn in his arms, my eyes meeting his. Snowflakes cling to his dark hair, and his eyes are intense, almost too much. His gaze drops to my lips, and a slow heat ignites between my thighs.

“You keep looking at me like that, Tex, and I’ll think you actually give a damn.”

He smirks, but it’s softer than usual.

“What if I do?”

The air between us crackles, the tension more potent than any threat from the Hell Reapers. He’s dangerous, in every sense of the word, but this is a danger I choose.

I grip his jacket, pulling him down until our lips are a whisper apart.

“Then stop talking and show me.”

His mouth crashes against mine, and the world shatters. The cold disappears, replaced by a fire that burns through every nerve ending. His hands slide up my back, under my jacket, searing heat against my chilled skin.

I moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his tongue sweeping against mine in a rough, claiming kiss. There’s nothing gentle about Tex — he doesn’t ask; he takes. And God help me, I want to be taken.

I press closer, the hard length of him pressing against my stomach. My core throbs, needy and insistent. I’m so lost in him that I don’t hear the footsteps until the back door creaks open again.

“Ahem.”

I break away with a gasp, my cheeks flaming even in the cold. Mace stands in the doorway, his face a thundercloud. His eyes flick to Tex’s hands, still gripping my waist, and his lip curls.

“You two done sucking face?”

he growls.

“Cyclops wants us inside. Now.”

Tex lets out a low, dangerous chuckle, but his grip on me loosens.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Mace.”

Mace’s glare could melt steel.

“Keep pushing, Tex. See what happens.”

Tex just grins, brushing a thumb over my lower lip before stepping back.

“This isn’t over,”

he murmurs, his eyes promising exactly what he plans to do to me later.

I swallow hard, my knees weak.

“It never is.”

The war room is buzzing when we walk in. The air is thick with tension, the kind that wraps around your throat and squeezes. Cyclops stands at the head of the table, his good eye narrowed, his jaw tight.

“Sit,” he barks.

We take our seats, and Cyclops’s gaze sweeps the room.

“The Hell Reapers aren’t backing down. They’re pushing closer to our territory, testing us. We need to send a message.”

A murmur of agreement rolls through the room. Chains leans forward, his eyes cold.

“You want us to hit back?”

Cyclops nods.

“Hard. But smart. We’re not starting a war unless we have to.”

Mace clears his throat, his eyes flicking to me.

“What about Larissa?”

“I’m not hiding,”

I snap before Cyclops can answer.

His gaze lands on me, hard and unyielding.

“You’re not gonna be bait either.”

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

“I’m not a damsel, Dad. I can fight.”

Tex’s hand lands on my thigh, a silent reminder that he’s on my side, even if it’s a dangerous line to walk. Cyclops’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t argue.

“Fine,”

he says.

“But you stick with Tex. No exceptions.”

A surge of adrenaline floods my veins. It’s not the fight I wanted, but it’s a step closer to proving myself.

Cyclops straightens, his eyes blazing.

“We roll out at dawn. Gear up and get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

The room disperses, men heading out to prepare. I stand, my heart pounding. Tex stays close, his hand lingering on my back as we move toward the door.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

he asks, his voice low.

I meet his gaze, my spine straight.

“I was born ready.”

His smile is sharp, predatory.

“Good. Because once this starts, there’s no turning back.”

I nod, the weight of what’s coming settling over me.

“I don’t want to turn back.”

He pulls me closer, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Then let’s raise some hell, princess.”

And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.