How did we get here? Last I recall, we were at the heart of the town in an alleyway, and I was close to killing Mickey with my bare hands.
A small whimper drags me out of my confused thoughts. I look down at Dahlia’s head, her bright green hair catching the light streaming through the overcast sky. I realize how tight I’m holding her to me, her soft curves pressed against my hard body. I ease up on my hold and suck in a breath as my little sister nuzzles into my chest, her warm breath fanning through my thin black shirt.
I lean my head into her, breathing in her intoxicating scent. She smells like warm honey and the sweet-pea perfume she’s worn since freshman year in high school. I hold back the shudder as tingles shoot up my spine from her heady scent.
She shifts her body closer to mine, like she can’t get enough of me, and molds her breasts against my chest and her pelvis flush against mine. Fuck me. My little sister doesn’t know the effects she has on me.
“Are you back with me?” Dahlia whispers, her lips moving against the sensitive skin at the base of my throat.
I cup the back of her head, gently threading my fingers through her green-dyed hair. I grate out, “Yes.”
“You scared me back there,” shesays softly.
It’s getting harder to concentrate on her voice and hear her every word because all my focus is on her breasts pressing against me. I can feel her hardened nipples, and I don’t think she knows. I’ll be damned if I tell her to speak up. This is my problem. A very wicked, disgusting problem that I should be ashamed of.
But I’m not.
I squeeze her tighter, not one bit sorry over my attraction to her. Blood rushes to my cock, which presses painfully against my zipper. Her stomach is right against it, but if she feels my erection, she doesn’t say anything.
What she said finally sinks into my hazy mind. I lean back while still holding her. My fingers twitch on her back. She tilts her head to look up at me, and I can’t tear my attention away from those fuckable parted lips.
“You’re not scared of me, are you?” I ask.
She frowns. “No.”
“You should be.” I lean down until our eyes are level and our mouths are an inch apart. She doesn’t know what goes through my mind whenever she’s near me. If she did, she would have been long gone by now, never speaking to me again.
Dahlia’s tongue peeks out and wets her bottom lip. I drop my gaze, watching the slight movement with longing.
Her black lipstick smudges to one side of her cheek from Mickey beating the shit out of her. I snap out of the lust haze and cup her chin, gently turning her head at different angles to assess the damage. My molars grind together as I study all the cuts littering her skin. I want to get on my motorcycle and head back into town to find the fucker and beat him up all over again. Bruises have already formed on Dahlia’s skin, a cruel reminder that I got to her too late.
“Why should I be scared of you?” she asks softly.
I rub my thumb on the outside of her bottom lip, gentlycleaning the smear of lipstick mixed with blood. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”
Dahlia gives me a questioning look.
“Did he sexually assault you?”
Pink colors her cheeks, and she shakes her head while resting her hands on my chest. Her touch burns through my clothes, and my skin absorbs her warmth, leaving its blessed mark in my bones and soul.
Dahlia tilts her head, concerned about my silence. “Jaxon?”
I drop my hand from her face and pick up the helmet she’d tossed aside while she brought me out of the blackout rage. I stare at her as I hand it to her, and she shyly smiles. It strains her face and looks painful as the discolored skin stretches tight.
The anger I thought I’d contained comes back, and another rush of adrenaline pumps through my veins.
Dahlia notices and throws herself against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose. My fists clench at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. I’ve been planning to kill Mickey for a long time, but killing him right now sounds really fucking nice. He doesn’t deserve to breathe any longer.
“Big brother.”
My spine straightens at her soft, breathy plea. I snap open my eyes and look down at Dahlia, who bends her head to look at my face with pleading brown eyes. She must know how I feel about her calling me that. It’s not something innocent to me. It’s fucking dirty talk.
I fist her hair and gentle my hold when she winces. Bending down, I hover my face close to hers and rasp out, “He’ll pay with his life for what he did to you.”
Dahlia’s lips part, shock crossing her face. “It’s not worth it.”
I smash my lips to her uninjured forehead and pull back.Dahlia’s shock lasts all of a few seconds before it looks like she’s about to argue with me, so I ease her helmet over her head, silencing her. I put mine on, fiddle with the buttons on the side, and set my phone to play music at the loudest setting.
