Page 3 of Asher Black (The Five Syndicates)
As soon as I step outside, the cold New York air relieves the pain building in my temples. It’s quieter out here, but I can still hear the music that’s playing inside. What was initially hypnotic is now giving me a headache, making me desperate for the fresh air.
I press my back against the brick wall of the building, stopping to take in my surroundings. I’m in an alleyway, but the only entrance and exit is the door I just entered from—another security measure, no doubt. The narrow street has been blocked off on either side by mountainous brick walls. They’re painted black, and Rogue’s logo is stamped onto the center of each wall in white spray paint.
It’s odd being in an alley that’s not actually an alley—more like an outdoor room with asphalt for floors and the night sky as a ceiling. I’m grateful for the privacy the surrounding walls give, though, because a dark alley in New York City isn’t exactly the safest place for a girl to be alone at night.
I jump in alarm when the doorway opens beside me. “Just another minute or so. I promise,” I say, turning to face the bouncer.
Instead, I find the guy from earlier.
Blue Eyes.
He’s staring at me with amusement in his face, so different from the coldness I witnessed earlier. “I think this will take longer than a minute.”
My breath catches in my throat as I take in his words and the dark promises they hold. His eyes are devouring me, skimming the length of my body and holding me captive. I scare myself when I take an unconscious step in his direction, wanting to be closer to him. To touch his face, his body, wherever he’ll let me.
I clench my fists, forcing myself to stop that ridiculous line of thought.
Now I understand what heroines in romance novels are feeling when they meet their alpha males. It’s not insta-love. It’s insta-lust, and it’s so strong and overwhelming, it’s easy to confuse the two. Lucky for me, I have my head screwed on tightly enough to realize that what I’m feeling is simply pure, unadulterated lust.
And it needs an outlet.
But this is a man that followed me into an alleyway. A man I neither know nor trust.
I level him with an accusatory glare. “Did you follow me out here?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation nor remorse in his voice, just a lingering truth that hangs boldly in the air. He eyes me warily as I take an instinctive step back, pressing myself against the wall again. “Tell me you don’t want me here, and I’ll leave. No questions asked.”
I wonder if he’s telling the truth. If he is, it would do wonders to ease my safety concerns. Because the truth is I do want him here. I want this. I want the promises of pleasure his eyes are giving me. I want to kiss those full lips. I want his hands to ravage me. I want everything.
So, I test him.
“I don’t want you here,” I lie, waiting to see if he’ll leave.
He nods his head and turns around, rapping on the door three times—the signal to open up. I’m relieved to learn he was telling the truth. That I can have this night of pleasure without worrying for my safety.
When the door opens and the guard sticks his head out, I say, “Wait.”
I mean it. I want this. I want him.
Call it instinct or insanity or probably a little bit of both, but I can already tell that, when he touches me, it’ll be electrifying. Just from looking at him, I can see that this is a man who takes what he wants. Right now? It’s me. Tomorrow? Who cares? That’s not what one night stands are for.
Blue Eyes nods to the security guard, who closes the door again. He turns my way, and the fascinated look of approval on his face sends a shiver of delight down my spine. “You were testing me.”
I nod. “I was.”
He takes a step closer to me. “And if I hadn’t passed?”
I hook a finger into his belt loop and pull him nearer. “We’d probably be in the same position, only I’d be lying to us both when I tell you I don’t want this.”
He places his hands against the wall on both sides of my head, caging me in. “And now?”
My left toe brushes against his ankle, trailing its way slowly up the length of his leg until it’s hooked around his waist. I use it to push him forward until we’re pressed tightly against one another.
“I don’t have to lie. I want this.”
His lips are on mine before I can blink, his tongue fucking my mouth the way I hope he’ll do to my body. I respond eagerly, my tongue brushing against his and savoring the distinct taste of spearmint and amaretto. It’s a filthy kiss, harsh and violent and messy, filled with the sinister promises I can’t wait for him to unleash on my needy body. It’s unfathomable how much I want this, how much I’ve thirsted for this since my eyes connected with his and saw the desire lurking within their depths.
His lips move to the skin below my ear, sucking lightly before he bites down gently, sending a jolt of pain straight to the stiff peaks of my nipples. An animalistic groan escapes my mouth as his tongue flicks over the sensitive skin he bit, lapping away the delectable pain. His lips trail down my throat, meeting his hands at my breasts.
