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He frowned. “Is your dad okay?”
I let out a long sigh. “No, he’s gotten himself in debt again.”
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Yeah, that about covers it.”
Some of my hair had fallen across my face, and he reached his hand up to tuck it behind my ear. He let his hand slide down and then he curled it gently around my neck, his thumb rubbing over my throat. My breathing picked up as desire flooded me. I wanted this, but I had to go slow and make sure we figured it all out before we rushed into things.
His head dipped and when his lips brushed mine, need unfurled through my entire body, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I’d tried. I stepped forward and pressed my body into his. My hand landed on his chest and then slid up so I could tangle my fingers in his hair and at the same time pull his head closer to mine.
I needed him.
Needed him as close as I could get him.
As our tongues danced and our bodies came together, I knew there’d never be another man I wanted as much as Kick. God knew, I’d tried to find one, but kissing him now, I experienced that knowledge deep in my core and in my soul.
He slowly ended our kiss and rested his forehead against mine. “Fuck, baby, we need to sort this out because I fuckin’ need to be inside you.”
“I know,” I whispered, breathless from his kiss.
We stayed like that for another few moments and then he finally pulled away. “Tomorrow. I don’t care if it’s fuckin’ midnight or later, you and I are going to talk,” he said with certainty.
After he’d left, I let the excitement and anticipation work its way through me.
I allowed myself to hope that we could find a way to make this work once and for all.
Chapter Six
Kick
Peter Bishop and I had a strange relationship. I felt like my family owed him a lot for what my father had done to him, and I was sure he hated me for everything my father had taken from him. But I was also certain he hated the fact I knew every dark secret he had and that I had bailed him out on more occasions than he cared to admit.
I stood in his living room and watched the broken man in front of me. Fuck, he’d finally hit rock bottom. I’d never known him to admit he had a problem and that’s what he’d just done.
“Who do you owe this time?” I asked, hoping like hell it wasn’t the same guy he’d owed last time. I had nothing on that asshole so would struggle to dig Peter out if that was the case.
His eyes held fear when he gave me the name. “Jonathon Gambarro.”
“Fucking hell!” I yelled, “Why the fuck did you go to him?”
He hung his head for a moment before looking back up at me with regret. “I was running out of options.”
I grabbed the back of my neck and muttered, “Jesus, Peter. How long you got to come up with the money?”
“One week.”
Fuck.
I dropped my hand and stalked into his kitchen. Reaching into a cupboard, I grabbed a glass and then grabbed the bottle of bourbon I knew he had stashed in another cupboard. It had been a while since I’d been to Peter’s house but he was a man of habit, and, sure enough, the bourbon was still there. I poured myself a drink and downed it in one go.
Peter followed me. “I fucked up, Kick.”
I turned my head to look at him, a scowl on my face. “You did more than fuck up this time. Gambarro isn’t known for his compassion.”
“I don’t know what to do. Evie told me she would take care of it, but - ”
I cut him off, “Evie’s not fuckin’ going near this shit fight. I won’t have her involved in this. Do not fuckin’ tell her who you owe or I swear to fuckin’ God I will take you out myself.” Anger spread through me at the mere thought he’d even think to involve Evie in this. Did he not have a clue who he was dealing with?
