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Not to mention, her naivete is astounding. Perhaps growing up stuffing your emotions into a drawer all while being handed life on a silver fucking platter doesn’t do you any favors, if she’s any indication.
I have enough complications in my life with Riley and LeeAnn and work. I certainly don’t need anything else stealing my attention.
Still, as I bark at Fiona that she needs to hold on to me, taking off when her tiny arms wind around my midsection, I can’t quite clear my mind of the dirty thoughts or the sense of impending doom.
* * *
Adjusting the lapels of my suit jacket as the office door swings closed behind me, I follow the back of Kieran’s head through the packed club floor, weaving between the sweaty bodies of various college kids and the drunken mistakes they’ll make tonight.
He pushes through the front doors, nodding at Seamus, one of the Stonemore gang’s bouncers, as we take a turn and head down the busy sidewalk.
Even before he stops at the head of the alleyway, I know he’s looking for her.
Juliet Harrison, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed reformed party girl that seems to have occupied his every thought since the fundraising gala. Similar to the way Fiona occupies mine, but significantly less forbidden.
If he fucks Juliet, the worst risk he runs is contracting an STD. Or maybe getting shot by her mafia boss brother-in-law.
If I fuck his sister, I run the risk of being skinned alive.
Literally.
Gore is Kieran’s MO, and even though I take part in the same kind of side work when I deem it necessary, my friend seems to get a deep satisfaction from ending lives in the sickest ways possible.
That’s why I can’t admit I kissed his sister, or that I want to do it again.
That I want to do so much more than kiss her.
Evidently, the gala let loose a hunger in both of us, gripping us by the balls and refusing to let go.
Pulling a joint from my suit pocket and lighting up, I watch Kieran’s jaw clench as he exhales loudly, spotting Juliet exactly where I’d expected her to be.
We’d been in a meeting with Finn Hanson, leader of the Stonemore gang and owner of The Bar—the premier club in Stonemore for horny young adults to hang out, if the people plastered to the sticky booths and multi-colored dance floor were any indication—explaining the findings of the routine audit we’d run for him, when Kieran noticed Juliet inside and took off, clinging to the walls as he watched her dance and drink merrily with her friends.
Eventually, she slunk off with some hunky firefighter, and Kieran prowled out after her, apparently determined to keep an eye on the flighty bird.
Now, his obsession is kicking him in the dick, and I’m just watching the destruction.
I laugh as he turns to me. “Unclench. You’re the most tightly wound guy I know,” I say, adding besides me as an afterthought in my head, noting that few people ever seem to be as tense as I am. “And you don’t have a claim on this girl. Regardless of what she owes you.”
His hand travels absently to the heart-shaped locket around his neck—Juliet’s locket, which seems to have mysteriously appeared in his possession. Their interactions at the gala had included her demand for its return and his immediate denial, lest she give him something in return, but evidently, she hadn’t wanted the jewelry back bad enough, since he’s still wearing it.
Shaking his head, he drops his arm. “I just wasn’t expecting her to go off and fuck some guy before I’ve even had my turn.”
I glance over his shoulder, noting the way the firefighter fumbles against her, obviously unsure of himself around the woman. God, she looks bored.
Pointing my joint in their direction, I shrug. “I don’t think she’ll even remember this dude after tonight.”
Kieran grunts, turning back to see the finale; I avert my gaze when the man groans, rutting against Juliet a few more times before slipping from her body and adjusting his clothing. She slumps against the wall as they have a short conversation, and then the firefighter heads back inside, leaving her out here. Alone.
The perfect prey for the hunter beside me.
Flicking some ash from the butt of my joint, I grip the end between my teeth and raise an eyebrow, recognizing the ferocity marring Kieran’s face. It matches the intensity I feel around his sister, the unparalleled magnetism that draws him to Juliet the way I’m drawn to Fiona, an electrical force we can’t deny.
I’m reminded of mine and Fiona’s kiss, how her soft, supple lips seemed to melt for mine, how good it felt to hold her body against me, and I’m met with a flashing pang of guilt when Kieran gives me a weird look.
What would he really do if he found out?
“Need me to leave?” I ask, trying to redirect my thoughts.
He tilts his head, seemingly lost in his head, and I hold my hands up, backing up off the curb and relenting, not wanting to stick around to watch round two. My bike sits up the street, my helmet hooked on the back, and when I climb on, the only thing I can think about is Fiona’s arms wrapped around me as I drove her home earlier, how her warmth seemed to reach something inside of me that’s previously only known the cold darkness.
Remorse floods through me, and I try to focus on the feeling, try to siphon the guilt I should have, but I find myself met only with the desire to kiss again, consequences be damned.
