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I place the gun under his chin and nudge him up onto his feet. “What’s up with her? Does she hurt you?” We stand up simultaneously.
His mom hurts him. It’s as clear as day in the way he peers up at me through wet lashes, his back against the door. “I asked you a question.”
I press the gun more firmly into the taut flesh under his skin, though, at this stage, who am I kidding? It’s not like I’m gonna shoot the guy. Hell, it’s not even like I’m gonna bring this guy in.
Not tonight.
His responding scoff is sharp and jagged. He’s got freckles, I notice. Tiny, golden spots in his face, right by his nose. I want to count them with my fingertips, dip its gold onto my own flesh and mingle our painted colors together. I want to beat them out of his system.
“Let’s get something straight. If I ask you a question, you answer. If I want to hurt you, I’ll hurt you.” The words are spit out like venom, formed in the deepest core of my heart. Fear creeps into those amber irises, and I want to milk it out, lap it up. Own it. Just like this guy—Phoenix—has owned my thoughts over the past weeks. I fucking hate him for it. “I will use you like my personal ragdoll.” Yes, that’s a plan. And a good excuse to keep him around a little longer.
My knee presses forward, stiff cock apparently happy with this complete change of direction, and with his gaze still on mine, I feel how his legs give way. Still, he hisses when our bodies connect, and I’m not sure how to interpret that. And right now, I don’t care, because my own reaction is enough to fan my own fire, my own fury. Bending my head ever so slightly, I cage him in between the door and my body, and he quivers when I whisper, “I know where you live, Phoenix. And Iwillcome for you. Use you, just how I like, to get everything I need. You understand?”
He gives me a shaky nod, eyes filled with tears once more. This time I can’t help myself, but wipe it from his cheek, before suckling it between my lips. His wet pupils dilate as he watches me, and fuck me, if that doesn’t bring me high on horny euphoria.
“We will control the drugs transport to France.”
He smells like the vanilla-scented candle in his room—sweet, rich and syrupy. I rub my knee against his groin, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me at the startling realization that he is hard. For me. Just like I am, for him.
This time when our eyes meet, it’s definitely fear that I see in his. His cheeks are tinged with a sweet pink, and he gives me a pleading shake of the head. I grab hold of his neck, then tilt it for a better angle. And then my tongue swipes over the gentle curve of his flesh, that feels warm and fluttery, up to his chin, to his mouth. I lap over his lips, only to groan when he opens for me, responding to my kiss on instinct.
“Your life is in my hands now, baby mouse.” I nip his bottom lip and toy with the plushness of his pout, before sucking on his tongue, desperate for his taste. And then my phone vibrates again in my pocket, making me slowly release Phoenix.
It’s only now that I realize that we’re both panting. The gun is still pointed toward his chin, but his lips are parted, fast puffs of air leaving them as he watches me with hungry eyes. He’s afraid. And he’s horny. And he’s afraid of being horny.
“I’m on my way,” I bark at my cousin, then slip my Glock back into the waistband of my jeans. Then I tap Phoenix’s chin with a tattooed digit. “Be good, baby mouse. Because I’ll know if you’re getting up to anything.” Then I push him aside, turn the key and swing open the door. The television’s on in the kitchen, and one look inside shows an older woman asleep in her chair, her head resting on the table. Ignoring the rest of this ratty apartment, I make my way toward the door, but I don’t miss the words Phoenix utters, “Yes, Kai.”
Fuck me.
* * *
“That’snota minute,” Ro snarls very un-Ro-like through the open window when I approach the SUV. He yawns, squinting his dark eyes as he runs a hand down his handsome face. “Fuck, man, I’m beat.”
“Then you shouldn’t have volunteered to pick me up,” I snap, then shoo him to move to the passenger seat. He’s right though and we both know it. It’s been a long day and night, and I told him that I’d be quick. With all the festivities going on around the wedding, the entire family’s in my business twenty-four hours a day. Sure, it’s fantastic, but add challenges like today’s threats on top of that, not to mention my forthcoming promotion, and Austin’s move, and you’ve got yourself a nice cocktail of stress.
Turning over my shoulder, I give the run-down building a final once-over. There are not too many floors, but the building itself is badly maintained, with flakes of paint hanging off the window frames that have the most pitiful self-made curtains in front of the glass. The entire building looks miserable, from its outside to the run-down communal spaces I just walked through. Small time dealers selling crack, hookers taking up the deepest corners as they’re on their knees to make a few bucks. Nah, this is not the classiest part of Brooklyn, and very much All Saints territory. Given our current situation, there’s absolutely no need for us to hang about.
And still… I kissed Phoenix. Put my gun inside his fucking mouth, felt his erection poking against my thigh.
“Come on couz, I’m dead,” Ro mutters once he gets himself comfortable on the passenger seat. “I need to sleep. My body’s been battered by those stupid judo moves, and in a few hours we’re supposed to meet everyone for that brunch at the penthouse of the Donnellys.”
“Oh yeah,thatbrunch.” I wink at him. “I suppose becoming family’s a serious business, hey? They’re even giving their secret headquarters away.” Ro snorts at that, but there’s something in his gaze that’s off. He’s not just tired, there’s something else going on here.
“Where’s D.?”
“Had to go somewhere.” Ro’s gaze becomes restrained, but he tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t succeed.
“Yeah? Where?”
“I don’t know, man, I don’t care. So, what are we doing here?” He yawns again, his head already leaning against his arms while he’s facing the passing streets. My leather jacket’s practically melted against my moist skin, and the gel I use to perfectly slick my hair feels sticky and suspiciously easy to mess up. So I avoid touching it, instead blowing away the loose strand from my quiff as it falls into view. It flies up, then bounces back in front of my eyes like some stubborn child. I leave it there.
“Thanks for picking me up, man,” I reply instead, as I too, eye our surroundings.
“Sure.” He dodges his previous question. “Why did you take a cab in the first place?”
I shrug noncommittally. Because this little research is very much private. “I didn’t want to bother you, man.”
Ro huffs out a chortle. “Yeah, right. Since when does nasty old Kai-boss care whether he bothers anyone? You live to annoy others, man.” When I turn to him with a pointed look, his laugh turns into a wild bark, but his body shakes up in shivers. Very un-Ro-like indeed, although it doesn’t take long for his laugh to fade into something that sounds suspiciously much like a sob. “Yeah,” he whispers privately, then shudders, before he moves to wipe off his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. “I’m tired, man.”
