Azrael's Light [Demon Runners of Unearth] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Online Free PDF Page B

shielding her. Not quite touching her, but close enough she smelled the faintest trace of his cologne. She wished she could be annoyed, but she was too tired to play games with herself. His nearness chased the shadows from the night.
    The nickname they’d given him on his first night at the club had stuck instantly. It fit him too well. He towered over her five-foot-nine-inch height, and his shoulders made him resemble a breathing brick wall. A reliable, calm, steady presence in the club, he never lost his temper, and always cleaned out the troublemakers without losing his cool. She’d learned to rely on him far too much in the club. She couldn’t allow that outside work as well.
    They reached the far edge of the lot, and she stopped dead in her tracks. She’d forgotten.
    “What’s wrong? Haven’t you ever ridden on a motorcycle?” She wasn’t sure the sleek and menacing, all-black street bike qualified as just a motorcycle. Bad memories surfaced as the machine stared at her with its alien-shaped eyes. Headlights, they were headlights, not eyes, and it wasn’t a living monster. It was nothing more than a metal machine used for transportation. Fast and deadly transportation.
    “Alice, look at me. I’ve got you. I promise to keep you safe, no matter what. All you have to do is hold tight to me, and I’ll get you home safe and sound. We’ll take it slow. Come on, girl. I know you must have some sharp claws to go with that razor-sharp tongue of yours. Here’s your opportunity to sink them into me.” He smiled and winked. The streetlight throwing shadows over his close-shaved brown hair and hard jaw did nothing to hide his masculine confidence.
    How did a man his size even fit on something with only two wheels? It defied logic. His steady eyes seemed to search inside her to find her fears. A large hand cupped her jaw with a gentle touch. “Trust me. I’ve got you.” His thumb swept a slow graze across her jaw, and then he let go.
    He stretched his legs and straddled the beast with an easy familiarity. He patted the miniscule space on the seat behind him and waited with an easy smile.
    “I’m not dressed for this. I’ll call a cab. Really, Brick, I’ll be okay. You can go on. I’ll tell Diane you dropped me at my front door like a perfect gentleman.”
    “Diane knows I’m not a gentleman. Why do you think she hired me? I’m nothing but muscle and brawn. She’ll know better, and I’m not letting you off the hook. I’ve already seen what’s beneath that skirt. Trust me. There is no reason to hide any part of your body.” Heated appreciation stared back at her through Brick’s warm chocolate eyes. Earlier that night a customer had spilled a beer on her, and she’d gone into the stockroom to change into her spare skirt. She’d moved a box behind the door to block it, but of course Brick hadn’t even noticed the obstacle when he came to check on her.
    He’d gotten an eyeful as she stood there in nothing but her tank top and a skimpy pair of purple-lace panties, which she’d only worn because she’d fallen behind on her laundry. He’d also seen her hideous scar. It stretched around her upper thigh and outer hip. The skirts she typically wore barely covered it. The only reason she wore the damn things was because her tips tripled whenever she wore one and she needed every penny she could save.
    “Come here.” Quiet, confident, he pulled her closer. “What’s got you scared?” How easy would it be to give her fear to him for a little while? When he looked at her with those heated and solemn eyes, she melted. His hands slid down to rest lightly on her waist.
    “You saw my scar? Motorcycles terrify me. The last time I was on one, my boyfriend wrecked it. It took me a year to get over the pain from my injuries and the nightmares.”
    His hand dropped to her knee and slid its way up her leg and to her scarred hip. A sly, seductive thumb smoothed over the puckered skin. “Boyfriend? He should have