Page 86 of Craving Sin

“No. I’m glad I feel it. Feel you.”

Christ, this man will be the death of me.

We go upstairs together and climb into bed, making the sheets smell like our fucking, while we’re wrapped around each other.

“He was really okay with it?” Abbott asks.

“Yes,” I say, and tell him about my day…about my son, more about all the kids, and how Cillian and Ollie will be coming to see us soon.

“I don’t want them in danger because of me.”

I kiss the tip of his nose. “They won’t be, but remember…he’s like me. Cillian is part of my world.”

“But you love him better than my father ever loved me,” Abbott answers for me.

“I love you,” I say, and if his father hurts him, or if I find out it was his father who tried to hurt him, I’ll kill the man slowly for it, because no one hurts what belongs to me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Abbott

“Do you think the sale is going to happen?” I ask Rian, standing in the doorway of his office at the house. He found a building he wanted for his concert hall, but it wasn’t on the market. I assumed that meant we needed to keep looking—something I’ve been helping him with—but not being on the market didn’t deter Rian.

He cocks a brow, half-smile on his handsome face as though my question is ridiculous. “Sorry. I’m not used to talking to someone who is in the Mafia, and they never have to worry about being told no,” I tease before walking farther into the room. I don’t know if he did anything illegal to get what he wanted, and I’d like to keep it that way.

He doesn’t need my help on this, but I’ve taken a lot of it on as my project over the last week. I know Rian’s let me help to give me something to do…and to take my mind off the fact that they’ve been scouring the city, questioning anyone who might have information on who put a hit out on me. I’m trying not to think about that, not to imagine what they might be doing to people because of me. If I don’t think about it, none of it is happening, right?

“Come here,” Rian says, and I go, standing between where he’s sitting in his chair and the desk. “What’s wrong?”

“None of this feels right…what you’re doing for me. That someone would want me dead. I can’t stop feeling like we’re on the wrong track, and all that’s going to happen is someone is going to hurt you.”

He chuckles as if that’s the most ridiculous idea. “No one is going to hurt me.”

“You got shot the day I met you. Don’t annoy me, or I’ll poke your wound.” Which reminds me, I need to check it. He acts like he doesn’t need it, but I like keeping an eye on how he’s healing.

“No, you won’t.” Rian puts his hands on my hips and tugs me closer. “I’m going to protect you.”

“I’m not worried about me.”

“That’s why I am.” He looks up at me. “Let’s go out tonight.”

“What?” Where did that come from, and how will it help with anything?

“Let me take you out. It’ll be good for people to see you with me anyway…then they’ll know you’re protected, know that if they move on you, they’re moving on me.”

My brain spins with that thought. There’s the quiet voice in my head, one I’m not proud of, that feels…worthier because of that, more important in this way I’ve never felt, except when I was saving someone’s life. It’s wild, really. That’s not why I do what I do. It’s not why I save lives, and I don’t feel like I deserve praise for it, like I’m doing anything special. I often get uncomfortable with the attention from doing my job, if I’m being honest, but it’s the only purpose I’ve ever known, and the only thing that has brought me joy since losing my mother.

But being Rian’s…that brings me joy too and makes me feel like more than I am. I’m not proud of that truth, but it’s a truth all the same.

“Still…I don’t want you to take me out just to prove something.”

“That’s not why…it’s just another result.” He stands, easing closer to my body. “I’m taking you out because you deserve it. Because you’ve been working tirelessly all week to help me figure out the logistics of putting this whole music thing in motion…and because I want everyone to know how fucking lucky I am that you’re mine.” Rian cups my face in his hand, tilting my head so I’m looking at him. “My partner…mine to fuck…mine to love…mine to protect.”

Damned if my knees don’t go weak. This man has got me feeling shit I never thought was possible, wanting things I never would have believed I could have…like exactly what he said—for everyone to know that he could have chosen anyone, but he chose me.

“If you’d like to take me on a date, I’m not going to argue.” I smile, and a laugh pushes out of Rian’s throat.

“Oh, you won’t, huh? You don’t want to go, you just won’t argue.” He chuckles again, then buries his face in my throat. “I forgot what it was like to feel this way…for even the smallest things to be fun…and to share it with another person.”