Falling for Rex by Shayne Ford

2

REX

“What’s so special about her?”he throws at me, his words jerking me out of my head.

“What?” I murmur, my hand tense around my glass.

I finish my drink.

“What’s so special about this girl?”

His voice slices through the air, loaded with suspicion.

“Nothing,” I deadpan.

Everything is different about her. The thoughts flashing across her face—the shyness, boldness, innocence, and wildness dormant in her eyes.

Her instincts leading her before pulling her back.

So much inside her can’t wait to be discovered.

She doesn’t have a wall around her like most people do–– I have one, and he has an even bigger one too.

Like the ocean, she washes over me, giving me a taste of her before retreating smoothly, making me chase after her.

She’s made of fire, her blaze seducing my flesh and wrapping around my soul.

Hard to forget or get satiated with, she wraps me in her magic, forcing me to permanently feed my thirst for her.

“She’s not your type,” I toss at him, hoping to dampen his interest in her.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against his smooth Italian suit, a derisive look sliding onto his face.

“Tell me more, brother... How did you reach this conclusion?” he taunts me.

My dismissive gesture means nothing to him.

“She’s some student from San Francisco,” I say, grappling with a bad mood. “Why do we have to talk about her anyway?”

Searching my eyes, he studies me intently.

He must’ve seen me with her at the beach. He must’ve noticed my behavior when I was with her.

I’m sure it registered with him I had acted differently. Different how?

I don’t know.

I have a hard time figuring it out, but something must’ve given me away. That doesn’t mean I have to confess to him.

That will never happen.

Kian is many things, but he is not someone who shows mercy when it comes to people. He doesn’t respect their boundaries either.

The more vulnerable he perceives me, the more tempted he’ll be to crush me.

He feeds on blood. And he will feed on Luna and me.

On the other hand, I can’t give him only lies. It will ignite his curiosity–– although we’re past that point, it seems.

If I don’t give him the information, he’ll have someone follow her or me. Or both.

Revealing the truth is out of the question.

She has a target on her back as it is–– he already said that–– and giving him more information would entice him even more.

Hopefully, with a little luck, and if I manage to make her less interesting in his eyes, I can move his focus away from her.

If not now, maybe tonight at the party.

He says nothing, leaving my question unanswered, but that’s the thing with Kian. He doesn’t always need words to form an opinion about something.

He has that sixth sense that tells him everything he needs to know.

“Her friend almost died a couple of weeks ago when we had that unexpected storm. That’s all,” I say.

“You took them home.”

“Yeah, I took them home,” I say, acting bored. “And then I ran into them again. Her friend hooked up with Carlos. We got to talk about stupid shit and stuff... Nothing important.”

His stare scorches my face.

I take a long breath.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks directly.

He couldn’t care less if I did.

His question is a trap. He wants to make me talk and give myself away.

He either knows where I was last night, or he suspects it.

Or he’d already hired someone to follow me, found out the truth, and now he’s fucking with me to make me talk and find out whether I’m lying or not.

Whichever scenario is in play, it doesn’t work in her favor.

“No,” I say, looking at him. “I didn’t fuck her.”

“No?”

He laughs, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“So, let’s see if I got this right,” he says, unfolding his arms and pushing up to his feet before swaggering to the corner where he fills a glass of liquor.

“You know this chick from the beach. She’s boring as fuck, has an idiot friend who almost got herself killed before you saved her ass, and now you ride in pairs with Carlos and the... girls.”

His back is turned to me, so he can’t see the small tick of my chin as he mentions the last part.

One of the bikers in the group must’ve talked.

He turns around and makes the trip back, his eyes locked with mine. His glass ends up on the coffee table before he plops onto the couch.

“So you want me to believe she’s nothing...” he sneers. “How long have you known me?”

I say nothing.

He doesn’t care for an answer, anyway.

“I saw this chick,” he says in a different voice–it’s cold like the frosted winter.

My jaw locks.

“She’s different...” he says, running his fingers through his hair, his gaze hovering over the table for a second before tilting up.

I feel his stare deep in my chest.

“I don’t know how,” he continues, “but you do, or you wouldn’t waste your time going to a summer party with a bunch of college students.”

“You have no problem with the college students when they end up at one of your parties,” I shoot back.

“True, but this is not about me. I’m merely the matchmaker. I wouldn’t spend time with them, but you do. Why?”

“I take one for the team,” I joke, trying to shift his focus away from the woman.

“Doing what?”

“Checking the women out. Getting laid,” I retort, fucking with him as much as he fucks with me.

“Mmm-hmm... But not her?”

“I didn’t fuck her. There are other people.”

He shoots me a stern look.

“Do that. And maybe she’ll end up at one of our poker parties, and someone else will fuck her before you.”

I swallow hard.

“I doubt.”

“Because you know her well.”

“I told you, I’m not interested in her. I’m not going out because of her. I don’t date her, fuck her... whatever.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me, distrust beaming in his eyes, aware that every word I say is at odds with what he thinks I feel about her.

No matter how many walls I build around her so he can’t see her, they keep coming down as if they’re cursed.

“Great,” he says, pushing out of his seat for the second time this evening and buttoning his sleek designer jacket.

He lifts his car keys and his phone from the table and slides them into his pocket.

I watch him in silence, hoping to see him leave wherever he’s set to go.

“Then, you’ll have no problem with me fucking her,” he continues.

The fangs of panic sink into my chest.

I don’t even blink.

I’ve perfected this expression for so long, usually for our business dealings, never for a woman, though.

Different circumstances had forced me to keep him away from me in the past. He’s a bloody animal, so dangerous, you need to play dead to save your life.

He studies me for a moment before winking at me, entertained.

His sense of humor is unpalatable.

“Stay away from her, Kian. She’s not the kind of woman that you like.”

He pivots toward the door.

“Let me be the judge of that, brother,” he tosses at me over his shoulder, striding to the exit, a mask of coldness sliding onto his face.

Panic falls through me when I bark in his wake.

“She hasn’t been with many men.”

He draws to a sudden stop.

I move my eyes to the ocean when I hear the rustle of clothing as he nears me.

I count the seconds.

He closes the distance between us and stops next to me. His silence and stare make me flick my gaze to him.

“Come again?” he says, dark amusement flashing through his eyes.

“She’s shy and inexperienced. She doesn’t like to interact with people. Even her best friend said so.”

“Uh-huh.”

He slides his hands into his pockets, an unnerving smile tilting his lips.

“She’s not into anything,” I blurt to curtail his interest in her.

“How do you know all that?” he tosses at me suspiciously.

“I spent time at her place... With both of them. We had dinner and drank coffee. Chatted about stuff. She almost dropped a mug when I touched her accidentally. She’s awkward and quiet, and you can’t get anywhere with her.”

“Have you tried?”

“Honestly? No. She looked at me as if I were a thug, although I gave her no reason to distrust me. I pulled her friend out of the ocean and saved her life. And she was still suspicious of me.”

He observes me, not convinced.

“Other than that, there’s not much to say about her,” I continue. “She takes pictures of things, likes to go to the beach, and reads books. That sort of thing. Maybe she’ll come to the party tonight. I don’t know. Her friend drags her to these parties. She wouldn’t go if it were up to her. That’s the whole fucking story. You’re not missing out on anything. Trust me.”

He searches my eyes for a moment.

I can’t tell whether he believes one iota of what I just said when he finally breaks his stare, turns around, and saunters away.

The door slams in his wake when I notice his drink on the table. He hasn’t touched it, and that’s not like him.

Something must’ve pissed him off. Or something has distracted him.

Still, I don’t understand...

Why does he give a damn about her anyway?