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Russian Bratva.
The Bratva weren’t our enemies, but they weren’t exactly our friends. They controlled Jamaica Plain down into Dorchester, the bloodline that fed I-95 South into New York City. They were bold, they were ruthless, and they had zero problem playing one faction against another.
My gut tightened. I wondered if Moretti had hired them to hunt Cassidy.
Within seconds, I’d evaluated the situation. We were in the open. Exposed. Running might provoke them to act, and if that didn’t set things in motion, then pulling my Glock definitely would. If the Russians were using a high-powered rifle, we were both screwed. But there were too many eyes, the unseasonably warm weather and the lunch rush providing plenty of pedestrian traffic. It was far more likely they’d favor one of their beloved Makarov pistols, concealable even when fitted with a suppressor. Their positioning placed them slightly uphill and to my left, a clear field of fire past the dumpsters and an easy egress through the parking lot’s south exit.
It was a perfect kill shot.
“Hey.” I spun Cassidy around, pressed her to the brick wall of the cafe. “Russians on my six, just go with it.”
Cassidy turned to stone when I moved against her, blanketing her body with my own. Shielding her from the Russians. I wasn’t wearing any body armor, but at that distance, it would be enough to protect her if they took the shot. If nothing else, I was about to send them a message they could take back to Moretti.
Cassidy Quinn was mine.
I gently tilted her chin up, and her pulse hammered away beneath my thumb. I ghosted my lips across her jawline.Loosen up, for the love of God and your own skin.
“Cassidy, they’re watching,” I pleaded. “Make this look good.”
I pressed my forearm to the brick behind her and knotted my fingers in her hair. Silently prayed that she couldn’t feel how aroused the danger and her closeness made me.
“Kiss me.”
7
Cassidy
“Kissme.”
Connor’s lips hovered a hairsbreadth above mine. My hands were clenched at my sides. Back to the wall. Everything in me wanted to pull away from his touch, but I couldn’t see who he was talking about—whowas watching? My eyes darted to the side, craning to see, but then his lips were crashing into mine and—
Connor kissed me.
It was hard, bruising. Possessive. Fingers tightened in my hair, and I fought against him. Tried to kick him in the shin. Connor swallowed my curses, pulling me towards him like he was staking a claim to me right there in the parking lot for the whole world to see. Like I was some prize he could put in his pocket. I was caged by the sheer size of him, danger rolling off him in palatable waves as he pressed me into the bricks. Pinning me there with those cold, gunmetal eyes, daring me to move.
A car rolled up the lane, and still, he didn’t stop. Connor’s eyes flicked from mine, following the car’s progress towards us. I shifted, taking advantage of his distraction, bracing my hands against the wall so I could get the momentum to knee that son of a bitch right in the balls.
“Please.” There was that word again, a soft plea murmured against my lips. The hand that was knotted in my hair slipped down to cradle my jaw, the other coming up to meet it. I froze, but this time, it was for a different reason.
In the space of a heartbeat, everything changed. Connor changed.
Warming.
Softening.
I twitched against him when his lips skirted across mine, featherlight kisses I almost couldn’t feel in the wake of the last bruising encounter. I didn’t want to feel them, but I felt them all the same, just like I felt the way Connor carefully cradled my face in his hands like I was something precious to him. Just like the way I felt my heart start to beat a little faster and a heat start to bloom unexpectedly in my stomach.
“Please, Cassidy.” Again, and again, teasing across my lips and down my jaw until the tension melted out of me. His stance was still imposing, caging, but where I’d felt trapped before, I felt protected, now. What was happening? My grip on the wall had shifted to hold me up instead of fighting him, my legs turning rubbery as the heat in my belly dropped to my core.
Connor looked at me. Even his eyes had changed. They weren’t grey at all. They were blue. The palest shade of blue I’d ever seen, the thin, azure ring circling pupils blown black as night. His lips parted, and his tongue softly traced my bottom lip. Asking, again.Please.
This time, I answered him.
Yes.
This time, the kiss was a swelling, building wave that seemed to surge and break over us both. Lips parted and our tongues met. Connor tilted my head back to meet him, and I let it happen. I gripped at his clothing instead of the bricks. I met him head-on. Force for force, passion for passion. I didn’t know what was happening.
All I knew is that I didn’t want it to stop.
