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16
Harper
Ughhh. Rolling over to check my phone for the time, only to find it’s barely six a.m. There’s a delicious soreness between my thighs from last night, and my mouth feels as dry as the Sahara.
I need water… now.
Mac’s still sleeping soundly next to me. He stayed all night, cuddled up tightly behind me. I can’t believe last night happened. I’m not the kind of woman who sleeps with a man she just met. Let alone a dangerous mobster who is practically keeping me prisoner in his swanky penthouse.
Yes, Mac may be dangerous to everyone else, but he isn’t to me. I can already tell I can count on him. I can count on him to protect me. I can count on him to give me what I need. I can count on him to make my body feel things I never thought possible. I mean, he gave me not just one but two of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever experienced in my life.
While all of that may be true, I can’t help but question my sanity. Is it smart to feel what I feel for him?
For them?
Everyone I’ve ever truly cared about has left me. No, they didn’t just leave me… they died. They’re gone. Forever.
I should be helping them stop whoever Declan, my grandfather, is sending for me, and I shouldn’t be sleeping with them. And I definitely shouldn’t be watching them masturbate in the shower.
God, what is my life?
Needing a second to think, I gently sneak out of bed, careful not to wake Mac. I grab a shirt off of the pile of our shed clothes from last night and make my way toward the kitchen for the glass of water I desperately need. I nearly jump out of my skin when Finn chuckles across the room.
I spin around to find him sitting in the den, cloaked in darkness and sipping a glass of whiskey. He looks like some sort of bond villain. He’s wearing the same clothes as he was last night, and judging by the bags under his eyes and his messy hair, I can tell he hasn’t gone to bed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing…” he says through a devilish grin, “Just nice to see Mac made his move.”
How does he know? It dawns on me, and I look down. Crap. I grabbed Mac’s shirt off the floor, not mine.
Play it cool, Harp.
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been dying to get his hands on you from the second we walked into the bookstore. Honestly, I’m surprised it took him so long.”
Finn must be drunk. He’s not usually this blunt, let alone this talkative. His usual put-together persona isn’t anywhere to be found, and mischievousness has taken its place.
“Well, it’s none of your business.”
Grinning, he brings his glass to his deliciously full lips for another drink, “Whatever you say, Angel.”
“What time did you two get back?” I ask, hand propped on my hip.
“About an hour ago. We had an issue at the docks. Had to go to Liam’s after to explain what happened. Let’s just say he’s not pleased.”
I don’t know much about Finn, but from what I’ve already observed, he likes to be in control. Both of himself and the world around him. He feels the need to please everyone. I want to know why.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. You don’t need to worry about it,” he says, exasperatingly running his hand over his face.
I step around the kitchen island and ask again, more firmly this time. “Finn, what happened?”
My firm tone makes him rise from the chair with a sigh. “Some assholes heard about the delivery. They stole half of it before we even got there.”
“What was it?” My curiosity has officially peaked.
