23
1030 Words
We stand there like that for a while, looking out at the view of Boston far below. It’s late afternoon, and I have no idea how long I’ve been here. One day? Two? Or the ten thousand it feels like?
When I glace at Declan’s reflection in the glass, he’s gazing at his hands resting on my shoulders as if he doesn’t remember how they got there.
I wish I didn’t find him attractive. I hate him, but I can’t deny he’s hot. Between those blue eyes and that strong jaw and that damn Irish accent…
“Why such a heavy sigh?” he murmurs.
“You’re still alive and breathing.”
“Not so long ago, you were thanking me for saving your life.”
“I know. I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass.”
He’s laughing again. Silently, trying to hold it in, but I can see his shoulders shaking in his reflection in the glass. For some reason, that makes me even more depressed.
“Please go away. I promise I won’t bother you anymore. No more texts. No more talking. Just leave me alone.”
I sound sad and pathetic. This man is draining the badass right out of me.
He knows it, too, because his voice grows soft. “I’ll go if you answer a question.”
“How would I like to kill you? Something slow and painful that involves flesh-eating bacteria.”
Ignoring that, he continues in his gentle tone. “Why did you get involved with the Russian mafia?”
I consider not answering him. Because f**k him, that’s why. But ultimately, I decide to tell him the truth. I’m suddenly too tired to fight. “I didn’t know I was.”
In the short pause that follows, Declan’s hands tighten on my shoulders. He wants more.
If it will get rid of him, he can have it.
“When I met Stavros, he was just a cute guy who used to take my beginner’s class a few times a week. He said he worked in tech. Which was true, he does own a software company. What I didn’t know was that software was developed for illegal online gaming.
“But I guessed something was up when I saw his house on the lake. He has an estate right next to Zuckerberg’s with three hundred feet of private beach. The place is probably worth fifty million dollars. Then there was the private jet, and the passports from various countries, and his little buddies who all spoke Russian. So, you know, one plus one equals two. He never told me, and I never asked, but it didn’t matter. He was already past his expiration date by then.”
Declan digests all that in silence. “Because boyfriends are like koi fish: a time-consuming and boring hobby.”
“Exactly.”
“So when did you finally confirm he was in the mafia?”
“Not until that night at La Cantina when the Irish guys were talking s**t and the bullets started to fly.”
He turns me to face him. It’s so abrupt and unexpected, I’m startled.
Staring down at me with blistering intensity, he says, “You didn’t know he was in the mafia when you got together?”
“No.”
“And when you found out, you left him?”
“Don’t make it sound noble. I wasn’t a conscientious objector to his lifestyle or anything. The reason I left him is because I got bored.”
Declan is incredulous. “He’s a billionaire. A powerful, rich, good-looking young billionaire. With billions.”
“I’m familiar with the word. You don’t have to keep repeating it. And I have no idea how much money he has. I didn’t conduct a forensic accounting.”
“Trust me on this.”
“Okay. And?”
“And you got bored.”
“Money isn’t what makes a man interesting. It’s not even on the list. Stop making that face at me.”
“Let me get this straight. You dated Stavros because you thought he was cute?”
“How is it possible that you can make that sound like a moral failing?”
“I just don’t get it.” He shakes his head. “He’s f*****g rich.”
“So are you, by the looks of it. It doesn’t make you interesting, either.”
Judging by his expression, he can’t decide if he’s more surprised or offended.
“You’re telling me I’m not interesting?”
“You’re about as interesting as a koi fish. An old one. With digestive issues and a malfunctioning swim bladder.”
Now he’s outraged. His face is turning red.
God, that feels good.
Just to twist the knife deeper, I add, “Plus, you don’t even know how to kiss.”
His eyes flare. His jaw clenches. He growls, “Believe me, I know how to f*****g kiss.”
“Sure you do. If it’s opposite day.”
When I smile at his obvious fury, he mutters, “Bloody little smartass.”
Then he grabs my face in both hands and crushes his mouth to mine.
14
Declan
I
know it’s a bad idea, but the woman has an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what to say to push my buttons.
The FBI should hire her for their terrorist interrogation team. There’s not a man on earth whose will to live she couldn’t break.
Holding her head and ignoring her little cry of surprise, I drink deep from her mouth. Her sweet, soft, warm mouth.
Her delicious, feminine, incredible mouth, whose appeal is surpassed only by the feel of her lush t**s pressed against my chest. And the small tremor that runs through her as I deepen the kiss. And maybe the way the tension in her body starts to melt until she’s leaning into me, giving me her weight and letting her head fall back as my tongue slides against hers.
When she slips her arms up around my neck and sighs in pleasure, a growl of victory rumbles through my chest.
Can’t kiss, my arse.
- Writer
