I had no clue, of course.
“You saved me back there.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
He glanced over and I saw his eyes move down my body against before turning away. “Yeah, well, I also almost got you killed. I guess it’s a wash.”
I smiled a little. “That’s true.”
“I just wanted to come up here and make sure you were okay. That shit won’t happen again, Cora.”
“I’m not sure you can promise that.”
He grunted like I’d kicked him in the stomach. “You’re not supposed to be involved in that kind of business.”
“But I am though, aren’t I? We got married and now I’m in this.”
He pushed off the counter and walked to the bathroom door. I felt anger and sadness and desire all raging inside of me and I couldn’t decide which was more important. Alex’s ghost drifted through my memory—and the image of Reid murdering two men in broad daylight, of glass shattering, of him throwing his body on top of mine to protect me, it all played through my mind.
“If I can help it, that won’t ever happen again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He said nothing, just lingered in the doorway for a few more seconds. I wanted to ask him how he thought he could protect me, how he thought he could keep me safe, when apparently a war was brewing. I wanted to know what our marriage even meant if we couldn’t keep violence from spilling out all over the city.
But none of it mattered. I wasn’t in this to keep the peace between our two families. I was here strictly to make money, and my deal with Vincent wasn’t predicated on the city staying together. All I needed to do was remain married, and I’d get paid.
That was all I wanted, all I cared about.
Reid didn’t matter. I couldn’t let myself give a damn.
He lingered in the doorway for a few more seconds without moving. I felt the urge to scream at him to leave. I wanted to be left alone to sulk in the tub, to sink into the memories of my dead friend, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Why do you hate the family so much?” His words were gruff, like he found it hard to say them.
Laughter bubbled up from my chest. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. “You try growing up with my father and you’ll understand.”
“That’s it then? You’re mad at daddy for being a dick.”
I sat forward, forgetting for a second that I was naked. I got onto my knees and leaned over the tub. “Fuck. You. Reid.”
He looked back at me and there was a smile on his lips.
Oh, god, that asshole. He knew what he was doing and he knew how I’d react—or at least he hoped I’d react that way. I knelt there and let him look at me, because fuck him and fuck his stupid handsome smile, and fuck this crazy fake marriage. I let him look at my breasts as they dripped water into the tub, let him look at my wet hair slicked back, at my bruised lip from—I’m not sure from what.
He turned and moved toward me. Water sloshed as I reacted, half moved back, but didn’t cover myself. He stooped down and I felt the cold of the tile on my back as I pressed myself against the wall, but he kept coming.
His lips found mine again. Another kiss.
But this one wasn’t to snap me out of my frozen confusion
This was something else—this was because he wanted it.
I kissed him back and felt his fingers move down my cheeks, down my throat, down toward my wet breasts and dripping nipples. He cupped them, teased them—made me moan.
God, he made me moan into his mouth and I hated him for it.
I pushed him away and splashed water in his face. “Get out,” I said, half shouting it.
He looked at me, not smiling, mouth open. I knew that look and I felt it, I shared that look deep inside, between my legs, in the places I hadn’t let myself feel for a very long time—I knew that look and wanted it.
I splashed him again. Water soaked his shirt, dripped down his pants. “Get out, you asshole.”
He turned and left without a word.
I sank back down into the water and stared up at the ceiling. My heart raced as I remembered that first kiss, up on the altar. Then the second, while a swam of angry bullets hissed around us.
And that third one, while I was naked in the tub, vulnerable and weak and there for the taking.
All three made me wild with stupid lust and need—and I hated myself for it.
That was weakness, and I couldn’t be weak, not with a man like Reid.
It didn’t matter how handsome he was, how muscular his arms were, how chiseled his jaw and his chest looked. I couldn’t give in to that temptation, because once I did then he’d have me, and he’d never let me go.