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The Cobra, AKA Tristan Arrowwood, may have been locked up for a while, but he obviously had the skills for assassination. It wasn’t like the Black Hand members were helpless, sniveling wimps. They could take care of himself, and yet, even back then, he’d still nearly taken them down all by himself.
If he had Miguel’s help, he’d surely succeed the second time around.
Chapter Twelve – Giselle
Damian picked me up when I called him, and on the way back to the house, I contacted Shay. Damian was going to have his crew take care of Rocco’s car so Ezekiel could open the church to the public. Rocco was still in his basement, alive—for now. Might need more info from him later.
My plan was to meet with Shay, see where we could go from there, and then call the guys, tell them the news. Everybody except Zander. I was still a little miffed at him, so I wanted to keep him in the dark for as long as possible.
Call me spiteful. Whatever.
Damian was wide awake even though the hour was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. He must’ve injected caffeine straight into his veins. I, myself, was dragging a bit, but the news about the Cobra would keep me awake a while longer yet.
“Learn what you needed to?” he asked.
“I learned a lot.” As much as I wanted to tell Damian the whole truth, I needed to speak with Shay first. This was her secret. If I was hiding something like this, I’d want the person who found out to come straight to me out of courtesy.
“Is the asshole dead, then?”
I looked at him, knowing what Damian assumed I’d say. “Not yet.”
“Not yet? Baby girl, why not? He should be eating lead right now.”
“We might need him yet. As much as I want to see him dead, we’ll have to keep him around just in case.” He would be useless to us for any new plans of Miguel, but that wasn’t to say there wasn’t more he knew and hadn’t told us.
“It’s your decision. Just don’t ever leave me in a room alone with him, because I can promise you, only one of us would come outta that room alive.” He spoke so matter-of-factly about how he’d kill Rocco for me, and it stirred something within me, something I’d been dealing with a while—ever since I agreed to team up with Damian to take Miguel down.
Damian made these confessions, these declarations, so effortlessly, it was impossible to not believe him. It was like the moment he’d had his men bring me into that house, I became his. His to take care of, his to protect… his to want and barely hold back from.
We were stopped at a red light when I whispered, “Damian?”
He turned his face toward me. “What is it?”
I acted before I could overthink things. I leaned over the empty space between our bodies and pressed my lips to his, kissing him to show him just how much he’d come to mean to me.
Damian’s mouth tasted like smoke and desire all rolled into one. He must’ve been stunned, at first, because it took a few seconds for him to kiss me back—but once he did, oh, once he did it was all over.
His hand left the steering wheel only to curl around the base of my neck. His affection turned fierce once he started to kiss back, and he took the lead so easily I had to moan into the kiss. He used the opportunity to take my bottom lip between his teeth and nibble just enough to make goosebumps rise on my arms. I wanted to crawl into his lap and…
Well, do other things besides kiss him.
The light turned green, and Damian had to let me go—although, wait. That wasn’t quite true.
He pulled his mouth off mine and turned his head to the front so he could drive, using his other hand to steer. He kept his other firmly snug around my neck, in no rush to let me go. “You,” he said, voice husky, “are making it real hard for me to concentrate on the road.”
It was difficult for me to find words with his hand still gripping the base of my neck, but I managed, “Sorry.”
He glanced at me, smirking. “No, you’re not.” His hand moved on my neck, falling down to my collarbone, and he pushed me back to my seat, a bit rougher than I was expecting. That hand then fell to mine. “How the hell am I supposed to focus on anything now, hmm? When all I wanna do is feel those soft lips of yours on mine again?”
I had no answer for him, so I didn’t say a word. I had so much running through my mind right now, all I could do was close my eyes and zero in on the way his rough hand held mine. Never thought I’d say Damian was a calming presence, but here we were.
“Fuck, Giselle, you got real soft lips,” Damian muttered. “Too fucking soft. Like, goddamn.” It seemed the man was next to speechless, all from a kiss, and considering who he was and what he’d probably done in his life, I had to take it as a compliment.
Since we had a bit of a drive ahead of us, and my mind was racing from that kiss and Damian’s reaction to it, an idea popped into my head. More like a desire, actually. A need. A desperate want. So, I pulled Damian’s hand to my inner thigh, moved my fingers from beneath his to on top, and guided that hand where I wanted it.
Damian had to lean over the center console a bit, but he did not voice a single complaint. He did, however, sigh and mutter, “What am I gonna do with you?”
I closed my eyes again. Obviously, I had a few ideas for him. What he could do to me, what he could do with me… at least it’d make a nice distraction on the ride back. I did not need to keep my hand above his to get him to play along; he started to rub my clit over my leggings.
