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“Please.” I suddenly feel desperate as I pull her close.

Her arms wrap around my neck as she moves against my body like we’re about ready to have sex only to freeze.

My mouth finds hers.

She’s warm and tastes like red wine and perfection. Our tongues are slow, and I count again.

It’s what I do now.

I count not to keep calm.

But as a count down.

So I’m not caught by surprise when I hit zero.

Twelve.

Eleven.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

She deepens the kiss as I wrap my arms around her body and dig my hands deeper into her hair, pulling her so close that I feel her breasts rubbing against my chest, her thighs pressing against my cock.

Seven.

If I die now, I will smile; it will be sad.

It will be worth it.

She breaks the kiss then dives back in, parting my lips with her tongue, breaking my heart with how achingly slow she kisses me back like she too has a countdown and needs to savor this moment.

Six.

Five.

Four.

She clings to me then, like she knows it’s close.

The end.

I cling back because I know we’re on borrowed time.

Three.

God, she’s pretty as she moves against me. She needs to get off; she’s so close that I don’t think I’ll have to do more than reach down and use my hand.

So I do it.

Quickly.

She falls apart instantly.

Two.

She collapses against me.

One.

Still alive.

Still, a dead man walking.

Chapter Six

“With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to that truth, by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two.” —Robert Louis Stevenson

Izzy

Like a scared idiot, I immediately snatched up my clothes and ran back to the house. He gave me an orgasm with his palm.

It took him less than two seconds.

His. Palm.

I was both embarrassed and horrified that all it took was one little touch of his warm hand, a flick of his tongue, and I was owned, yet again, by the boy I’d loved and the man he had turned into, the one I hated.

A man I no longer recognized.

Why did we have to be so difficult?

Why?

I grabbed a towel on my way in and nearly collided with Andrei in an effort to get to one of the guest rooms.

He stared me up and down. “I take it my son’s outside by his rock?”

The way he said rock almost made me laugh as if his son was five and playing with rocks. Uh no, he’s a full grown-ass man, and he was playing me, sir. Sorry?

My cheeks flared with heat. “Yes.”

He nodded and looked behind me. “Has he been acting different ever since Ash and Annie got together?”

I frowned. “Yeah, but he was acting different before then, you know.” It pained me to say it. “He’s young, doesn’t want to be tied down and all of that.”

“And the assignments from the Families? What do you think about that?” Andrei crossed his lean arms.

I shrugged. “Honestly, he’s your successor. I imagine he gets into fights, but for the most part, he uses his brain. He likes science. He literally fainted when he was twelve and had a compound break in his arm.”

Andrei smiled. “Funny you would remember it that way.”

“Huh?” I frowned. “He fell and broke his arm and cried.”

“But who did he run into? And who cried first?” He tilted his head. “He wasn’t crying because of his own blood—he was crying because of yours.” He pushed off the wall. “Take the room next to Maksim’s. I want someone watching you just in case, and he’s already promised not to touch you.” He paused. “He hasn’t, right? Touched you?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to lie when Maksim’s mom walked around the corner looking gorgeous in a black skirt and short top, paired with a tuxedo jacket. “You ready for date night?”

“Oh, you’re going out?” I asked.

She grinned. “No, we’re staying in.”

Andrei smiled wider.

“Oh. OH!” I held up my hands. “Carry on.”

Awkward. So awkward.

“Earplugs are provided, compliments of my son, in every guest room.” Andrei winked and then kissed her on the forehead.

She smacked his chest, blushing. “He’s kidding.”

“Don’t wear them and find out,” Andrei growled.

I just sighed because, really, all of our parents are literally having more sex than us; at least it felt that way. “Have fun.”

Lame.

They both laughed and walked off, leaving me confused and dripping on the floor. I decided that the best way to get him off me was to shower.

Big mistake.

Because I ended up smelling his shampoo, and it wasn’t a short sniff. I wish. No, I stood there like an idiot with water pelting my back and took a few deep sniffs with my eyes closed, set down the shampoo, then reached for the conditioner.

“You gonna sniff me too?” A rough voice said.


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime