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When he gets up, I jump to my feet. “I’ll do the dishes.”
My head spins for a moment, and I blink quickly.
Fergus puts a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to sit down. “It takes seventy-two hours for the drugs to flush out of your system completely.”
I feel steadier once I am sitting down.
I watch him wash the dishes and find myself asking, “Should I go to the hospital?”
He stills. “The only reason I didn’t take you there is that it would have gotten the police involved and ultimately, the gang would have been breathing down your neck. I don’t think you can afford that sort of attention.”
I sigh. “That’s what I thought.”
“You need to stay away from Dominic, Sarah. He’s not someone you can date.”
I blink, confused. “Date? I don’t want to date him.”
Fergus wipes his hands on a cloth and stares at me. “Then what the fuck are you doing giving him those coy looks for?”
I don’t flinch at the anger in his tone. “I’m not giving him any coy looks. I was looking at his tattoo.”
“I’ll give you a picture. It’ll last longer,” Fergus tells me through gritted teeth. “He’s a dangerous man, Sarah.”
“I know he is.” I start to feel irritated at being treated like a child. “And I told you I’m not flirting with him!”
“It sure looks like that to me,” Fergus snaps at me, sounding annoyed.
“Well, maybe if you get your head out of your ass, it wouldn’t!”
Fergus growls loudly and rubs his hands over his face. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why can’t you mind your own business?” I shoot back.
“Because I don’t want you getting hurt, or worse! Because for some stupid goddamn reason that I don’t understand, I like you! God knows why!”
My face clears of its anger. “You like me?”
Fergus frowns, still trying to hold on to his temper. “Of course, I do.”
I can’t help egging him on. “How much do you like me?”
He stares at me. “What are you, five?”
I shrug, enjoying the way his cheeks are coloring. “Humor me.”
“You’re tolerable.” He picks lint off of his shirt.
“You don’t cook breakfast for someone if they’re just tolerable.”
He is reaching down to pick up my cup, and the look he gives me makes something inside me shiver.
His voice is soft, and his thick accent makes his words all the more dangerous as he says with a low voice, “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
Before I can respond, he swoops down, and I hear the clutter of the cup on the table as his mouth descends on mine with a fierceness that steals my breath away. His tongue probes my lips, demanding entrance, and I give in, parting them.
His hands fist in my damp hair and he devours my mouth with urgency and dominance that I hold no hope against. As his tongue strokes mine, I hear myself making a small whimpering sound full of need. My hands reach up and dig into his shirt, holding on for dear life as he uses his tongue to explore my mouth.
His slick appendage is hot, and I can do no more than hold on for dear life as he has his way with me, his tongue destroying me.
