What Doesn't Destroy Us (The Devil's Dust #1)

Bull looks back at me and sighs heavily. He grabs his sunglasses and slides them off his tanned face. He has green eyes, like pools of ivy; my eyes. I have my father’s eyes. I now know what everyone is looking at. My breathing becomes heavy, I’m trying to control it but losing the battle. There is so much to take in, this is my father. This is his club. It makes sense now why Shadow acted the way he did when I took my glasses off. As soon as he saw my eyes he knew I was the daughter of his president. I look for him out of the crowd and spot him leaning up against the SUV. He pushes off and starts walking toward us. “Yep, no denying that, Prez,” he says with a chuckle.

I gasp for air, but come up with nothing. My body goes limp. I try to grab onto something, anything, but there is nothing. The darkness overtakes my vision; my knees buckle and I collapse.

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My head is pounding as I open my eyes to a dusty ceiling fan in an unfamiliar room. “Where am I?” I croak out, noticing my lungs are not screaming for air anymore.

“You’re in the clubhouse. I brought you to one of the rooms. You fainted,” says a familiar voice. “Your mom and Bull are getting shit straight.” I look beside the bed to find Shadow kneeling there. “You took a spill right outside the club. How’s your head?” he asks, as he brushes my hair behind my ear. His fingers linger by my ear causing a rush of adrenaline to fill my body, making me feel high.

“I-- it’s ok,” I stutter, that familiar feeling of not being able to breathe creeping its way back into my lungs. The man makes me fluster in a way I have never experienced, I have no control of my body when I’m around him.

“Breathe, Dani. I won’t bite unless you want me too.” He winks.

Oh my God, don’t wink at me. My thighs clinch at the desire surfing up my legs.

I sit up on the bed, Shadow’s face inches from mine. My eyes fall on his pouty lips. I wonder what they feel like on a woman’s skin. I lick my lips, wanting to taste his; taste him. Breaking my eye contact from his lips, I look up into his stormy eyes and notice he’s staring at my lips as well. With a sudden feeling of courage, I push myself forward and brush my lips against his; testing him, hoping for a reaction. He pulls back, studying my face. My sudden feeling of courage rapidly turns back into butterflies. Does he want me as bad as I want him? Does he feel the attraction between us?

He lets out a growl as he roughly grabs me by the legs and swings them over the side of the bed. His fingers dig deep into my skin. Lifting me by my ass, he slams me back against the wall. His lips crash into mine, his tongue demanding entry. I accept the intrusion, he tastes incredible and dangerous. He snakes his hand away from one of my ass cheeks and grabs a handful of my hair, pulling it tightly. He is being rough, as if showing me the kind of guy he is. Little does he know I can’t get enough of it. My hands clinch the front of his shirt to pull our bodies closer; my legs wrapping tighter around his waist. I can’t believe what I’m doing; my mother warned me to stay away. But, I can’t help myself, I know I’m playing with the devil himself and I want more!

Suddenly, he pulls away, nearly dropping me on my ass. “I can’t do this, Dani,” he whispers hoarsely. “And you would do well to stay clear of me...”

“What?” The fire lit between us is doused with arctic water. I try to compose myself, feeling cheap and easy. His sudden iciness drowns my arousal, drenching me with anger.

“You would just get hurt in the end,” he says, running his hands through his choppy hair, his tone arrogant. He looks me up and down, making me feel like I can’t handle him. “Trust me.”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” I fire back.

He scoffs, pissing me off more. I try to push him out of my way, and he grabs my wrist pulling my body back to within inches of his. I try to pull my wrist free, but he just tightens his grip.

“I am not one of your little boys back in New York trying to play businessman, Dani,” he sneers. “If you were mine I would fuck you within an inch of your life every chance I got. I would show you what that body of yours is capable of. He is whispering now, his lips brushing against my skin. “But in reality, you can never be mine.” His tone is suddenly cold. He pushes me away from him. My body is confused. Am I turned on or pissed? I hate him, but I still want him.

“You’re the president’s daughter. I don’t look forward to having my nuts on a platter anytime soon,” he says with a sudden scowl.

A knock sounds at the door and it immediately opens.

“Shadow, let me have a word with my daughter,” Bull demands as he enters the room.

“What’s your full name, Dani?” Bull sits down on the bed and pats the spot next to him, inviting me to sit. I oblige.

“Danielle Lexington,” I manage to choke out; the severity of the situation still overwhelming.

“I see your mother gave you her last name,” he sneers.

“What’s your name, I know it’s not Bull.”

“Leo Goodmen.”

“Why do they call you Bull?”

He chuckles, his eyebrows rising, “They say I’m bull-headed.”

“Funny, my mother has said that to me countless times,” I respond back. I see myself in this man more in the last five seconds than I have my mother my whole life.