Page 7 of Made for Cyn
“Nothing. I’m handling it.”
“Are you? Because it seems like you’re spending more time getting your dick wet,” Cyn says.
“Yeah, well, she’s a fucking freak,” Bastion chuckles, “but don’t worry, I’m working on her. I’ll have the info soon.”
“It would be easier if we could beat it out of her,” Cyn grumbles, and I gasp, slapping my hand over my mouth.
Cyn’s head swings my way, and Bastion chuffs. “You got this?”
“Yeah,” Cyn says.
Bastion disappears, and I shrink away when Cyn approaches.
Were they talking about Iris? Shit, I hope not because I have a sinking suspicion that Iris likes Bastion—a lot. Why else would she hang around such rough characters? What’s she thinking?
“Ah, well, if it isn’t Iris’ little cousin,” Cyn says silkily, looming over me.
I can’t see his face, but I can feel his stare burning through me anyway, and his stance with his arms crossed over his chest feels decidedly menacing.
Standing shakily, I mutter, “What do you want?”
“You shouldn’t have been spying on things not meant for your sweet little ears.”
“I can’t help it if you walked by,” I say defensively.
He chuffs, stepping closer, and I step back, but there’s nowhere to go unless I want to crawl through tall grass and into someone’s yard.
“Is that right?” He chuckles, and the low timbre vibrates in my damn core.
Up close, I see his features are rough; his cheekbones sharp, his mouth too wide, but if anything, it makes his brilliance that much brighter. He exudes masculinity effortlessly, and I shiver because my body has a mind of its own.
“Yes,” I say, mentally cringing at the breathless response.
Who is he, other than a tough guy with beautifully stern features and a threatening posture? I don’t know, but I have a feeling I should have stayed at the other party with the dull but safe Rand.
He reaches out and traces his finger down the side of my face, and I catch my breath, tendrils of fire following in the wake of his touch. With an intensity to his gaze that keeps me spellbound, he circles my neck and cocks his head to the side.
“What should I do with you?” he murmurs, caressing my skin, and although his touch sends a lick of heat through me, the calculating gleam in his eyes tells me to run and not look back.
“What?” I whisper. Goosebumps rise painfully on my skin, but whether from the implied threat or his proximity, I’m not prepared to guess.
“I don’t need nosy little girls interfering in my business, no matter how sweet, hmm?”
“I’m not. I won’t,” I say in a whisper, both aflame and ice cold.
“Tut-tut.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close until his hard chest meets mine.
I tilt my head back with a whimper because my nipples tighten into painful tiny beads of their own volition. With a chuckle, Cyn runs his nose down my cheek and along my neck, breathing me in before licking the speeding pulse.
“Oh.” I clutch his arms, my knees weak and fight against the flames licking my skin.
He’s far too daring, and I should tell him to back away, stop. But inexplicably, I want to beg him to kiss me. I want him to erase Rand’s taste from my mouth.
Then I remember I just puked.
Gross.
Closing my mouth on the moan I don’t want to escape anyway, I pull back.
