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“Now you’re getting it,” he murmured.
Ohhh.
I flipped the page of my notepad and scribbled again.
Even so, you said we were both allowed lovers.
I held the page out with less force, bewilderment softening my fight. I’d started to think of Conner as a somewhat better alternative than my father. Had I been wrong? Would a life with him be even more oppressive than these last months in my family home?
My de-escalation only seemed to anger him further. He got even closer, his piercing eyes inches from mine. “No, I said turnabout was fair play. That means if I stray, you can, too. But for right now, there’s only one set of legs I want between, and as long as that’s the case, I expect the same in return.” He took my hand and tugged me out of the office, not giving me a chance for a response.
Stumbling behind him, I could hardly string together thoughts I was so beside myself in surprise. He expected exclusivity? What if I didn’t want to have sex with him? My body did, but my mind wasn’t so sure. He made it sound like he could lose interest one day—that was exactly the sort of thing I’d feared. If I developed feelings for him, a betrayal like that would be heartbreaking. I didn’t want to hand myself over to a man who wasn’t committed to me.
Conner handed me over to Umberto. I slipped into the back seat of his car but hardly registered anything around me. I thought of Conner’s thumb on my lips. His hand on my thigh and his dirty words whispered close to my ear. He wanted me and had been intensely possessive in response to Shae’s hand on mine. But would that translate to long-term devotion? Or was his interest in me just a momentary craving?
His undeniable intensity made me think that maybe our relationship had potential. That it might be … more. Conner didn’t strike me as the flighty type. He was more all or nothing. And if he had his sights set on me … would that mean he wanted all of me?
Maybe it was just wishful thinking. I couldn’t be sure.
The strange flutter in my chest terrified me. I should have been scared of Conner himself, but it was the feelings he’d evoked that scared me more. The fact that I had any hope at all that he might care for me was a dangerous sign. He’d admitted to burning a man alive—was someone like that even capable of love? Why was I even entertaining that question?
If I didn’t get control of my wayward emotions, I would land myself in a heap of trouble. The only problem was, I didn’t know how. Conner was chipping away at my defenses one small crack at a time. He wasn’t the sort of man to give up. If he’d set his sights on conquering me, I was doomed.
I never dwelled on what-ifs,especially when it came to my past. Unlike many adopted kids who spent a lifetime wondering what their lives would have looked like had they not been given up, I never cared because it was pointless. The past was the past. Move the fuck on.
I hadn’t questioned my life before, and learning the identity of my birth mother changed nothing. If anything, it only confirmed that I was exactly the man I was meant to be. Whether Italian or Irish, I was meant to thrive on the wrong side of the law.
My moral compass was faulty from birth, and more to the point, I liked it that way.
Guilt was a pointless emotion suffered by the weak.
I knew my mind and owned my actions so that I could walk through life with confidence. When I agreed to Jimmy’s request that I marry an Italian, I committed to that decision. I hadn’t known at the time how deep I’d dive into that commitment, but something inside me snapped at the sight of Shae with Noemi.
I didn’t just want to fuck my fiancée; I wanted all of her.
Her body and submission. Her trust and compliance. Even her fiery temper and sarcasm.
All of it was mine, and I wasn’t about to share.
Shae wasn’t a true threat. She never would have infringed on my territory if she’d known how I felt. She sure as shit did now, though. Not that it would stop her from pushing my buttons. She always had, like the way she called me Reid when no one else dared. I’d shut that down years ago—it highlighted that I wasn’t a Byrne. No one else got away with that shit, but Shae was like a sister. A gorgeous bisexual sister who was just as good at snagging the hottest girl in the room as she was at leveling her competition in the boxing ring. Uncle Brody had taught her well.
While my brain knew she wouldn’t dare steal what was mine, the archaic animal in me had been livid. I hated seeing them together and was nearly homicidal at the sight of their hands touching. It was intimate and suggested a degree of closeness between the two that enraged me.
Jealousy wasn’t my thing. I’d never wanted a woman enough to be jealous.
But what had bothered me more than anything was the way Noemi’s face had crumpled when I told her she was the only one I wanted. It was as if the thought of our marriage being more than a professional arrangement had crushed her.
I’d had to get her out of there fast before I said or did something I would regret. Like guilt, I wasn’t a fan of regret, but I’d been dangerously close to lashing out and hating myself for it later.
There was no way this consuming need that I felt was one-sided. If I was stuck with this suffocating feeling of infatuation, she sure as hell was going to feel it, too. I would strip her bare, body and soul, to prove to her just how thoroughly she belonged to me. I’d do whatever it took.
If I had to walk this treacherous path, I wasn’t doing it alone.
But Noemi was guarded. I would have to use just the right amount of force and seduction to keep from scaring her away. That had been the one surety holding my control intact. The second she was gone, I got in my car and drove straight to the gym. If I didn’t work out some of the homicidal energy festering inside me, I would explode.
As usual, Bishop was already there bullshitting with some of the guys. He ended his conversation as soon as he saw me and jogged over.
“Hey, man. I was just going to call you. Got that info you wanted back from my guy.”
