I feign innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Run.
Too late.
He moves before I can blink. He doesn’t grab or pull me but shifts—hard—so that my back meets the brick wall behind me. Two young women walking past stare, their conversation coming to a stuttering halt. One gives me a look of pure jealousy, and I shake my head at her.
You have no idea.
“Do you think I don’t see it?” His hand comes up, and for a moment, I think he’s going to grab my chin. Instead, he skims his knuckles over the curve of my jaw. I shudder and move closer. I’m wet.
I want him to hurt me.
I want him to push me against the wall until it hurts, until he’s crowded me in, nearly suffocating me, his hand flexing around my neck. I want to scrape my nails over his tats and take pleasure in his groans, to push him so hard he nearly stumbles before he pins me beneath him, face down, pressed into the bed while he spanks my ass before he rails me from behind.
I swallow.
“You, testing me. Teasing.”
I don’t deny it. Instead, I smile. “You’re the one obsessed with this whole concept ofownership.Keep sayingmineand all that, half a breath away from smacking your chest like a gorilla.”
His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken.
Hahaha.
“There y’are, lass.” We both stiffen. Matvei’s eyes narrow on mine, as if assessing whether or not I planned it. I give him a shrug just to keep him guessing.
I tilt my head over Matvei’s shoulder to see O’Rourke, feet planted on either side of him, his eyes fixed on me. “Been looking for you,” he says as if a wall named Matvei Kopolov isn’t standing directly between us.
“Have you?”
Matvei turns around and jerks his chin at him. “O’Rourke.”
“Kopolov.”
Their glares are assessing and pointed, but neither makes a move.
Boys.
“You didn’t waste any time, did you, Kopolov?”
“Not something I generally do,” Matvei retorts. “Rodion says your boss met with Rafail yesterday. Looks like everything’s going as planned, no?”
They share a look I can’t quite read before O’Rourke nods slowly. “Aye.”
“Something you need?” Matvei asks, his tone sharp enough to cut diamonds.
“No. My visit today had shit all to do with you,” Cillian says. “I was needed nearby and fancied I’d grab a cuppa before I headed home.” He winks at me, and I swear to god, smoke comes out of Matvei’s ears.
When he turns back to me, his gaze is feral, his voice a low growl. “Fucking tell me what went on between the two of you.Now.”
I stare at him, taken aback. “Nothing.” I narrow my gaze. “But if ithad,it’s none of your fucking business.”
Leaning in so his mouth is up to my ear, his voice is tight and low. “None of my business? Anyone who touched you before me is my fucking business.”
Ohreally? I shake my head and roll my eyes, but only to mask the sudden fear that courses through me.Iwishhe knew who touched me before and what happened. It wouldn’t be what he thought it was. Not at all.
How can a memory scare me more than the dangerous man standing in front of me now?
