Her eyes flash open, giving me a closer look at the hazel orbs. “Liam.” My name leaves her lips in a breathless whisper. The sound is so sweet it slips through the paltry amount of control I have left, effectively destroying it.
“My brothers will kill you.” She tells me. The words should feel like a threat but that’s not how they sound. Instead, it sounds like an invitation and a warning all stuffed into the same envelope and mailed from her pretty lips.
“Fuck them.”
Her mouth turns into a slight smile, and I seize that moment, pressing mine against hers. Her mouth opens for me, deepening the kiss and inviting me in to explore. It’s a sweet kiss, a gentle one, and that’s not
my type, so I drag my teeth across her lower lip. It doesn’t stop her; she presses her body into mine and gives me more.
With every move she deepens it. Her hands grasp around my neck and she clings to me like I’m the only thing she has.
I know this is wrong. A chorus chants in the back of my head telling me to stop, to pull away, to do anything but continue to kiss this woman.
But she fits perfectly against me, and she kisses me like I’m the last thing she’ll ever have, and her soft skin brushes against mine and in this moment I don’t give a fuck.
“Are we doing this?” I pull back and ask her. I want to give her an out.
“Yes.” The statement is clear as day, confident.
I back her up to the leather couch in my office until her calves hit the edge. I lift the skimpy piece of fabric she calls a shirt over her head, exposing her breasts for me, sheathed in a black lacy push-up bra. Her hands come to the side of them, pushing them up like she’s putting on a show for me and my cock grows harder at the motion. Slowly, she slides each strap down and pulls the bra off, dropping it to the side.
I rub my thumb across my bottom lip. “Christ.”
“Nope,” she teases. “Just me.”
I palm one of her breasts, feeling her soft skin beneath my touch. She leans into the feeling, closing her eyes as I lean forward and take her taut nipple into my mouth.
“Fuck,” she moans, a beautiful sound.
There’s a creaking sound escaping the floorboards outside my door and I can’t react fast enough. I shove her on to the couch and turn around just as the door opens, revealing my older brother.
“Liam—” He stops when he sees her on the couch.
Don’t recognize her. I chant on repeat in my head. I turn away from her and slip on my mask. In my family you can’t show any emotions, you need to be cold all the time.
Emotions are weaknesses, and weaknesses get you killed.
“What the fuck, man.” He sighs. “Getting pussy up here?”
I can sense Gemma moving behind me to cover herself from him. Slipping her bra back on and sliding the shirt back over her head.
“Yeah,” I scrub a hand down my face. “Can you get outta here?”
Declan’s smug face zones in on her and in an instant his demeanor changes.
Fuck.
“Wait a second,” he stalks closer to her, toward the couch. “Is that the fucking DelGado chick? Are you fucking her?” He looks at me accusingly.
I exhale a long breath. “I was trying to fuck around with her before you got here. I found her downstairs wandering around like she owned the place. Think she’s spying, yeah?” I need to cover my tracks, make it look like I wasn’t about to do all the dirty things I could think of to her.
Gemma slides her shirt back onto her body but doesn’t speak, just looks over at my brother. She looks disheveled. Her hair’s a little messy, lipstick smeared, her shirt is crooked.
Declan is the older of the two of us, but only by two years. He’s the same height as me and we have matching hair but he’s clean shaven and wearing a fresh pair of black slacks and a button down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
There’s one major difference between my brother and I that can’t be seen from the color of our hair or the clothing we wear. Declan will be the next boss of the Boston Mob, and I won’t.
And honestly, that’s fine with me. If I had a say, I wouldn’t be in Boston at all.