Page 46 of Where Angels Fall

“You should go,” I reply honestly. If she were smart, she’d never return. Because she’s quickly becoming my new favourite addiction. Her brows draw as I light a cigarette, taking a deep inhale. “... Or you could stay.”

She watches me curiously, and I watch her right back. An angel assessing her devil. Although, do angels fuck the way she does. Because there was nothing holy about the way she rode me. The way her cunt gripped me was sacrilegious. The noises she made were blasphemous.

Every second of it was sinful. And I want more.

“Is this where you live?” Her soft voice finds me.

I nod once, smoke billowing out of my mouth.

“It feels like you.”

My brows dive together. It feels like me? I wait, the silence prodding her to continue.

“Dark, but... beautiful,” her eyes shine at me.

I huff quietly, flicking ash into the tray. I don’t have a reply to that.

She shifts on the couch, tugging the sleeves of my shirt over her hands. The sight does something unpleasant to my chest. Possessive. Dangerous.

“Angel,” my voice is gravelly as I stub out my smoke. “Wanna go for a ride?”

I swear her face lights up, something like excitement sparkling in her eyes. She nods, and my smile stretches wide. It’s about time I show her what it’s like to ride with a devil.

I’m pretending her ride with Kai didn’t happen.

Before long, I have her in the garage, one of my black hoodies swallowing her whole. My eyes bore into hers the entire time I buckle her helmet, and she looks right back, not dropping my gaze for a second. For a split second, the urge to lean in and kiss her steals me away, but I push that thought far fucking away.

Then I swing my leg over my Harley. My pride and fucking joy. A slow wicked smile curves my mouth as I reach my hand out to her, a dare in my eyes. And fuck me, does she accept, gripping my hand and jumping behind me.

Tentatively, her arms wrap around my stomach, but that just won’t do. My fingers wrap around her wrists, tugging her body to mine. Soft curves press against my back, and I tuck her hands into the waistband of my pants, her small fingers curling in the hair there. It makes me rock hard in an instant, and I don’t miss the way her breathing picks up.

With a twist, the engine revs loudly, echoing in the small space, and we speed off, her breathy gasp lightning through my veins. And we are soaring through the night, cool wind whipping at us as I navigate through the quiet streets.

It’s my favourite time to ride, when most of the world is asleep. These are the hours when all the bad things happen. The hours when monsters like me can roam free.

Instead of heading into the city, I turn away, towards the surrounding mountains. Roads wind up and up, further and further away from Havenport Harbour and everyone in it.

I didn’t plan to bring her here, but I can’t bring myself to turn around. I don’t slow down until the city lights thin out behind us.

The road climbs, curling into the dark as her body stays pressed to mine. It feels right, the way she fits there. It’s something I’ve dreamt of ever since I saw her. It’s been in every one of my darkest fantasies.

Eventually, I ease the bike to a stop.

The lookout opens up in front of us, wide and quiet, the city sprawled out below like something alive and breathing. Tree tops slowly sway just below us, wind sifting through my hair. Havenport Harbour glows in the distance, lights scattered like stars fallen to earth. From up here, it almost looks peaceful.

I cut the engine; the silence hits differently after the roar.

My hands linger longer than they should when I help her off the bike and unclip her helmet. When I pull it free, her hair spills out, wild from the ride, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. She steps forward on instinct, drawn towards the twinkling view.

“Oh,” she breathes. I follow her gaze.

It’s the same view she watches from her penthouse. Same harbour. Same lights. Same city. Just from a different perspective.

Looking back at her, her eyes are wide, the city reflecting in her deep, chocolate eyes. I watch her take it in, the way her shoulders loosen, the way her chest rises on a slow, steady breath.

“This is...” she trails off, searching.

“Different,” I finish quietly, unable to take my eyes off her.