Under an Endless Moon (Moonlit Ridge Book 2)

More than a week had passed since Raven had been staying here, and I was about to fuckin’ lose it.

The woman under my roof. Her laughter all around. That sweet, moonflower scent invading.

The woman was constantly underfoot, driving me halfway to unhinged. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hurry to help her pack her things to get the hell out of there or beg her to stay forever.

The problem was, I fuckin’ liked it.

Liked walking in my door and finding her in the kitchen sipping from a glass of wine or stretched out on the couch watching TV or reading a book.

Liked her girly shit strewn all over my bathroom counter.

Liked her sleeping in my bed, even though I’d made sure to stay out of it considering what’d happened the last time I’d woken with her curled in my arms.

She hadn’t had a nightmare since. I’d been more than thankful—both because I couldn’t stand her being tormented by her ghosts and because I was beginning to question my morals.

Guilt clamped down on my chest, my conscience flailing behind its bounds, tendrils reaching out to remind me of what I’d done.

Morals?

What a fuckin’ joke.

It was all right there below the surface. The truth of what I’d cost. The truth of what I had to do. The truth of what would go down tonight.

And there I was, a twisted fuck who was so close to reaching out and taking what he knew he should never touch.

Raven had found one apartment that she’d really liked, but it’d already been leased by the time she’d decided to take a leap on it.

I should have known I was in trouble when I was pummeled with a rush of relief. Should have known I was already half gone when my insides had buzzed with the knowledge that I got to keep her here for a little while longer.

Hell, I should have known it right then when I came bounding upstairs from the garage and swung open the door late that evening to find her standing in the kitchen, making dinner.

Should have known it when my chest squeezed in a fit of pleasure so severe it nearly knocked me from my feet.

She had a bottle of red wine open and a glass sitting next to her on the counter. Taylor Swift was blaring from the speakers.

My stomach twisted at the sight. The whole setting so much Raven Tayte that it stole my damned breath.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” I asked as I stepped inside and tossed my keys to the high table next to the door.

She canted me one of those saucy grins as she swayed from side to side, swishing those lush hips, the girl wearing another one of those pinup dresses that she loved to torment me with. This one was fully black and sleeveless, the neckline high and wrapped with a frill around her neck.

Makeup done thick, red painted lips and her eyes drawn in a sharp cat eye. Lashes long as fuck.

Only Raven would still be wearing those sky-high heels, as comfortable as if she were barefoot.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Making dinner.” She was all coy grins. Completely light and playful tonight.

“Ah, trying to spoil me, huh?” I asked, a stupid grin hugging my mouth since clearly, I was a self-indulgent moron when it came to her.

“Well, you’re always spoiling me, so I thought it was only fair that I returned the favor.”

“You know you don’t owe me anything.”

“You’ve been letting me stay here and feeding me for more than a week. I’m pretty sure I do.”

“I like having you here.” Couldn’t keep the honesty out of my words.

That raven gaze dipped for a second before she whispered, “I like being here, too.”

“Ah, thought you were gonna be sick of me by now,” I told her as I wandered deeper into the kitchen, drawn to her.

A motherfuckin’ magnet that I couldn’t resist.

She had her hair piled on her head, and I had the urge to walk up behind her, lean in, and press my nose to the delicate slope at the back of her neck.

“Sick of you?” She playfully rolled her eyes. “My favorite person ever? I think not.”

“Well, that’s good to hear since you’re never getting rid of me.” Of all the terrible ideas I could have, this one was probably the worst, but even knowing it, I still reached out and took her hand.

Raven squealed when I gave her an impromptu spin.

Her gaze went wild with that infectious glee as I pulled her back to me then hooked an arm around her waist.

I’d always danced with her. Since I could remember. It’d always been safe. Fun. A way for us to goof around. But in the last few years, it’d become something else entirely.

It’d become gluttonous, the feeling that swept through me when I was touching her like this, acting like it was as innocent as ever when the only thing I wanted to do was splay my hand over her soft, soft skin.

Explore and taste and devastate.

Raven knew exactly what was up, and she spun out of my hold and moved to her phone on the counter so she could change the music. She switched it to one of those old swing songs I used to teach her to dance to years ago, all the way back to when we’d been living in that abandoned house.

The second the quick beat hit the air, she shimmied back in my direction. Pure fuckin’ sass. So goddamn sexy as she strutted in those heels.

I might have been the one leading her, but she was the one who compelled it all. The one who guided me as I spun her and dipped her, both of us giggling as we gave ourselves over to the freedom of the moment.

I spun her in one direction, then the other, before I tossed her out wide. Releasing my hand, she kept going, spinning and spinning across the kitchen floor before she turned to grin at me, standing about six feet away.

“Are you ready for it?” I asked.

“I was born ready for it,” she said with a curve of those distracting red lips.

She moved for me, gliding across the space. When she got within reach, I took her hand, pulling her toward me fast and flipping her over my arm. She squealed as she flew, then she was landing right back on those heels, forever steady on her feet.

It was me who was losing ground.

Me who couldn’t find his footing when I curled her into me, bringing her back to my chest as I swayed us side to side. The next step would have been spinning her back out.

But what did I do?

I banded a greedy arm all the way around her front and tucked her back tight against my chest.

My mouth went to her ear as lust smacked me in the face. “You were born for this, Raven. Fuckin’ perfect on those feet.”

“Born to dance with you.” It was a breathy murmur from her mouth.

I tried to play off our words with a laugh, though I doubted I was pulling off casual, since I pressed my nose to her neck, breathing in the soft flesh at the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Inhaling the overwhelming scent of moonflowers.

As sweet and fragrant as honeysuckle.

Before my urges got away from me, I forced myself to spin her back out, thanking fuck that something on the stove was starting to spit and sizzle. “Looks like we have a bit of an issue on the stove.”

A shaky giggle slipped out of Raven as she turned back to quickly stir the vegetables. “You’re distracting. Get out of here before you make me burn the place down.”

She waved the spoon at me.

I rumbled a chuckle, though it was half in pain. “You know you love it.”

“Of course I do.” Her voice was softer than it should have been.

I cleared my throat, the levity squashed when my thoughts moved to the reality of what was coming. What I was about to do.

“Going to take a shower really quick before we eat. Have a job I have to run tonight.” Could barely force the words off my tongue. “Gotta leave after dinner, and I probably won’t be back until sometime tomorrow night.”

Sticky shame engulfed me when I said it.

It toiled with the dread.

Confusion bound her brow when she looked at me. “For the club?”

I rubbed my palms together like it could wipe away the guilt. The very indignant part of myself screamed that I was doing it for her, too.

That they deserved this.

Revenge.

Justice.

The part of me that wished I would have been the one who got to end them all that night when they’d come for me.

But I couldn’t quell the disquiet that whispered like ghosts in my senses.

“Nah. Have a job for the distributor.”

Her frown deepened. “Oh.”

That guilt amped so high it was suffocating.

Hated lying to her.

But I couldn’t lay it straight. I had to do this on my own.

“Going to have Jonah keep a lookout.”

Jonah was one of the bouncers at Kane’s. One of the few who had the inside of what we did. I trusted him to watch over her while I was gone.

Raven scowled. “That’s not necessary.”

“I think you know it is.”

She huffed a small sound with a shake of her head. “And just when I think I’m getting my freedom…”

I was an idiot, across the space separating us in a flash, the woman a magnet that I couldn’t resist. I took her by the chin and forced her to look up at me. “Want you to have that, Raven. A normal life…”

One outside of Sanctum so she wouldn’t have to constantly be looking over her shoulder. A life where we didn’t have to post guards any time we left. But after we still hadn’t picked up a trace on whoever had spray painted her window at Moonflower?

I wasn’t going to take that chance.

“I love this life,” she whispered.

My head shook and I forced myself to step away. “Only because you haven’t known anything else.”

Disappointment filled her expression. “Don’t ever tell me how I feel, Otto.”

Fuck.

I kept messing everything up. Pushing into the spaces I couldn’t go while trying to dredge up a mountain between us.

I gestured toward the room behind me. “Going to hit the shower.”

In an instant, her eyes went molten. Her gaze dark.

Like she was immediately picturing me naked beneath the fall.

Fuck me.

She was nothing but a temptress.

She had no fucking clue what she was doing to me.

My need for her might have been easier to ignore if I couldn’t feel what radiated from her.

If I didn’t know.

If I didn’t recognize the way her heart sped whenever I was near.

The way the energy shifted and intensified. Desire distinct in the depths of those ink-kissed eyes.

This attraction that blazed.

But it wasn’t quite that simple.

It was deep and earnest.

Easy and light with the familiarity we’d always shared.

Sweet with the friendship we’d forged.

Bruised with the grief and pain we’d suffered.

It was close to two decades of history.

But I could never go there.

Could never take my best friend’s little sister, the one woman I’d been forbidden to touch.

Swear it.

Could still hear the finality of those two whispered words bang in that closed-in hall where River had had me backed against the wall.

Could still feel the rattle of the oath I’d made.

Nine years older than her, the guy who’d sworn to be nothing more than her protector.

But more than that? It was who I was. Who I’d become in that grief and contempt that would forever rage inside me.

I was the last fuckin’ guy to deserve Raven Tayte.

Hell, that cum-stain Tanner was better than me, even though I wanted to tear my hair from my head when I thought of him touching her.

When I thought of anyone touching her.

Thoughts spiraling, I forced myself to head into my room. I didn’t know if it was any safer in there with all of Raven’s things around. My bed made to perfection with a giant fluffy white pillow in the shape of a heart sitting against the headboard. The old mirror I’d given her years ago safely stowed on the nightstand.

Her shoes in my closet.

Her fuckin’ birth control pills sitting on the counter in the bathroom.

Nearly came unglued when I saw a pair of black lace undies just sitting on the floor.

I tried to block the visions but it was impossible as I stepped into the spray.

And I gave myself over.

Letting the fantasies of her invade.

Her spread out on my bed, all naked curves and delicate flesh. Me exploring every damned inch of that beautiful body.

Adoring and devouring.

Fuck. The ways I would have her.

I gripped my cock with my hand, stroking myself hard and fast as I thought of her out in the kitchen. What it’d be like to go up behind her the way I’d always wanted, toss the skirt of that dress up around her waist and pull her underwear aside.

Drive into her deep and desperately.

Take her the way I was dying to.

But I couldn’t have her.

I wanted so much more for her than this. A good, simple life. Someone to adore her the way she deserved to be adored. Someone who wouldn’t keep her chained to the darkness. Someone who didn’t devolve into depravity.

Leave it to me to be the fool who wished I could be every single one of those things as I ate dinner with her.

Except I knew I could never be when I walked out the door and into the wickedness that was waiting in the night.