by Katee Robert
I don’t smile, but it’s a near thing. “Loving me is an inconvenient truth.”
“Stop being amused.”
“Only you would fall kicking and screaming into love and then pout about it.” I move her hand from my mouth and press it back to my chest. “We’re not running out of time.”
I don’t have to see her expression clearly to know her mouth has twisted into a frown. “Save your comforting lies for the people who believe it. I know what Peter is capable of better than anyone. Unless you’ve been hiding things from me, we don’t know where he’ll strike, only that he’s revving up for some kind of attack.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Actually, that’s a lie. We know exactly where he’ll strike. Me.”
I frame her face with my hands. Tink never feels fragile, not really. She’s too strong, fills a room with her energy too effectively just by walking into it. But at the end of the day, she’s only human and she’s about to come face-to-face with someone who’s done her immeasurable amounts of harm. “I won’t let him touch you. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you have no way of keeping.”
I start to argue, but she kisses me before I can get another word out. It would be the easiest thing in the world to break that kiss, to keep talking in circles until we’re both blue in the face. That’s not what we need right now. Tomorrow is coming, for better or worse, and neither of us is that good at masking our worry. It’s there, a lurking presence that drags its nails along the edges of my mind, a taunting whisper of all the things that can and will go wrong.
Touching her is the only thing that silences it.
I kiss her back with everything I have, taking the comfort she offers and giving it in return. I reach between our bodies, and she lifts herself just enough to give me access without breaking the kiss. Part of me wants to rush this, to lose myself in the feeling of fucking her again and again, until we have no energy left for fear. That can be comfort in its own way, but that’s not what I want right now. That’s not what she needs. Instead, I tease her, palming her pussy and exploring her with my fingers. Denying us both.
Or at least that’s the plan. Tink has other ideas. She grabs my hand and moves it away from her. “I need you.”
“Tink.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She presses my hands to either side of my head. Not so much holding me down as giving herself leverage. I could free myself without effort, but I can’t quite catch my breath. This isn’t domination and submission. This is something else. Something that goes even deeper.
She laces her fingers with mine as she grinds against me, each slide of her pussy against my cock teasing at the possibility of penetration. “You make me lose my mind.” Her voice weaves a spell as thoroughly as her slow, rolling movements. “This shouldn’t work. We shouldn’t work.”
It takes everything I have not to grab her hips and slide her onto my cock. To maintain stillness and let her guide us. “Who gives a fuck about ‘should,’ beautiful girl? We work. It’s enough.”
“It’s enough.” She does another of those hip rolls that has my cock notching at her entrance. I hold my breath, my body a single line of tension as she keeps us hovering on the precipice. Tink’s laugh is breathy and a little amazed. “I really do love you, Jameson. I really, really do.” She slams down onto me, taking my cock in a single stroke even as she takes my mouth in a kiss that leaves me dizzy.
This woman might kill me, but what a fucking way to go.
She moves her hands to tangle in my hair, and that’s all the encouragement I need to stroke up her thighs to her hips and ass, squeezing and urging her to move. Then there is no more need for words. We’ve said all there is to say; we’re both content to let our bodies continue the conversation.
She rides me slowly and kisses me like she’ll never get enough. That makes two of us. I can’t touch her enough, can’t keep my hands still. I want everything. Fucking everything.
When Tink comes, she does it with my name on her lips, a soft moan that I drink down like the best kind of whiskey. I want to hang on, to make this last, but she feels too good, and this is too important. Pleasure shoots down my spine, and then it’s too late to worry about anything but the orgasm turning me wild, pounding into her from below with a single-mindedness I can’t shake. I don’t bother to try.
We lay tangled together as our heartbeats return to a normal pace. “Stay with me. Stay married to me.”
She gives a little laugh. “Most people would hear ‘I love you’ and start making assumptions.”
Most people don’t know Tink as well as I do. “Stay with me,” I repeat. I cuddle her closer and play my last card. “Marry me again. Big church wedding and all that shit. Spend a couple years solidifying our power structure in this place, getting us as far out of the criminal shit as we can manage.” I pause, all too aware that she hasn’t taken a breath since I started talking. I should leave it at that. It’s a lot to dump on her all at once, but hope is a treacherous and slippery slope. “Have a family with me. Make a home with me.”
She exhales slowly. Carefully. “It’s really shitty of you to start dangling that kind of thing in front of me. We don’t even know if we’re going to survive the next week.”
“Yes, we do. We’re going to remove that bastard, and we’re going to win.” If I say it enough times, it will be true. We will win tomorrow without any losses. We will embark on a future together that I want more than I’ve wanted anything in my life.
“Jameson.”
Every time she says my name, it’s like she’s reaching right into my chest and giving my heart a squeeze. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” She lifts her head enough to give me a ghost of a smile. The fact I can see her expression more clearly now means the moon has once again fled the sun. Dawn isn’t quite here, but it’s close.
She reaches up and runs her fingers through my hair. “Wanting a family is what got me into this mess to begin with.”
“No, Peter is what got you into this mess.” I make a face. “Well, Peter, then Hades, and now me. He used your hope against you.”
“And you aren’t?”
The comment stings, but it’s a fair question. I shift her closer, enjoying the way she fits against me. “You know who my father was.”
She blinks, obviously thrown by what appears to be a change in subject. “Only in passing. He was one of Peter’s generals. Peter kept me away from most everyone.”
“He was about what you’d expect.” Not as bad as some. If there’s a ranking of shitty parents, Hugh Hook lands somewhere in the middle. He only roughed me up a handful of times and was usually just a sloppy drunk, not a mean one. But he ran my mother out of town at some point when I was young enough to only have flashes of memories, and he ensured that the apartment we lived in, no matter how nice, was littered in figurative eggshells I had to navigate whenever he was home and conscious.
Tink frowns. “You mean he wasn’t winning any father of the year awards.”
“No. Not by any stretch of the imagination.” I don’t bother to try for a smile. I’m not trying to charm her. I’m dead fucking serious about this. “I want a home, Tink. You know what I mean when I say that. A real home, not just a nice fucking place to sleep. I have my cousins and the people who have become family over the last few years, but I want a family.”
Her lip quivers the tiniest bit. “You know there’s no guarantee I can pop out a few kids. That’s not always how the world works.”
The fact she’s arguing this means she wants it just as much as I do. She’s just afraid to grab it with both hands, and with good reason. She’s been slapped down so many times over the years. Tink deserves a win. That’s not always how the world works, but it’s how our world is going to work. “I want you, beautiful girl. I love you. The rest will fall into place as it’s supposed to, regardless of what form that takes. Maybe we work on getting you pregnant and, as you said, popping out a few kids. Maybe we adopt.
Maybe we change our minds about kids and get a small pack of dogs instead. The only rules are the ones we make.”
“Just like that.”
“Just like that.”
She frowns harder and finally sighs. “Can we talk about this after we get through the next hurdle? I don’t think I’m superstitious, but I’m about to find some salt to throw over my shoulder or something because I don’t want to jinx us.” She shifts against me and rests her head on my chest. “I’m afraid to want what you’re offering.”
“I know.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “But you’re right. We’ll talk about it when the future is cleared of this last barricade.” Of Peter. His death won’t magically fix all the issues in this territory, but it will remove the leader the dissenting voices are trying to rally behind. Without Peter pushing things forward, I’ll have time to actually fix things here. Our operations will never go completely clean. Even with all the money in the world, if we go completely legit, someone else will try to move in. Finding the right balance is a challenge I can’t think too hard about because there’s still so much to be done to get us to that point.
“Jameson?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for tonight. It doesn’t magically make the pain go away, but it was exactly the distraction I needed.”
“Anything for you.”
I hold her as her breathing evens out, nearly matching Gaeton’s on the other side of her. In the morning, the big man will be off to fight his own battles, but he sleeps in the safety of my bed now because it is safe. If we ever go to war with—Well, it’s not the Man in Black’s territory anymore. I suspect it will pass to his eldest daughter, Cordelia.
She and her wife will hold the center, though I shudder to think about going up against them. I’ve only met Cordelia a handful of times, and she’s easily as ruthless and ambitious as her father was. Her wife, Muriel? People who cross Cordelia have a way of disappearing, and I am nearly certain it’s her wife behind it. One wouldn’t know that they’re a pair of the most dangerous people in Carver City when standing next to them, watching them make eyes at each other.
Cordelia is the eldest, the most ambitious, the leader, but she’s arguably not the most dangerous of the Belmonte daughters. The middle, Sienna, is a certifiable genius and one of the coldest people I’ve ever met. The only exception to her icy attitude is her sisters, and her husband who’s a startlingly normal guy. And the youngest? I look at Gaeton, relaxed in sleep. Isabelle Belmonte might seem like a nice girl, but she’s playing a dangerous game with Beast and Gaeton and doesn’t seem to care.
No, it’s in everyone’s best interest if the inheritance of power happens seamlessly. There have been too many changes lately in the city. All it takes is someone rocking the boat, and we’ll all end up underwater.
I cuddle Tink closer and close my eyes. Dawn is nearly here, and we have more than enough problems without borrowing from the future. We’ll figure it the fuck out.
We don’t have another choice.
Chapter 25
Tink
If not for the delicious ache in my body when I wake up alone in Hook’s bed, I could almost convince myself I imagined everything that happened last night. Not the sex. No, the scariest thing that happened last night was admitting my feelings to Hook. They aren’t going away, and that terrifies me. I don’t know if we’re going to live past the confrontation with Peter that’s barreling down on us.
The possibility of a future? A family?
If I reach for it, grasp it with too much enthusiasm, will the universe respond favorably? Or will it kick me in the teeth for having the audacity to believe I deserve a happily ever after?
The only way to know for sure is to jump and hope I learn to fly on the way down.
Hook walks out of the bathroom. He’s got on slacks and nothing else and seeing his bare feet peeking out from beneath the black fabric feels strangely intimate. Silly considering everything we’ve shared in less than a week, but the strangest things become kicks to the chest with this man.
He studies me in that way of his, as if he knows I’m sitting in his giant bed and having a silent freak-out. “You want to talk about it?”
“I don’t believe in happily ever after.” As soon as I blurt out the words, I feel foolish. I don’t know what I want him to say. I’m precariously perched on a cliff edge, and one word will send me back to safe ground, and a different one will push me right over the edge. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I need.
Hook turns, freeing me from his gaze, and pulls open one of the wardrobes. All his clothing was cleaned in record time and put away the day after I sent it to be dry cleaned, though I have no confidence it will stay that way. This man is a hurricane in motion. He shrugs into a cream button-down and does it up with deft fingers. “There’s no such thing.”
My heart sinks, even as I tell myself that to be grateful he’s being honest with me. “Oh.”
Hook crosses to the bed and holds out a hand. “All the stories end with the villain vanquished and the happy couple riding off into the sunset. That’s what happily ever after is. They never have to work on their relationship, never have to get their hands dirty when facing the challenges living a full life creates. They’re caught in stasis, without conflict, without problems, without life. That’s no way to live.”
I blink. Of all the things I expected him to say, this isn’t one of them. “You read a lot of fairy tales, Hook?”
“Don’t do that.” He gives me a tug, and I climb gracelessly to my feet. “When I say I love you, and I want a life with you as my wife, I mean a life, Tink. The problems and the victories and the day-to-day mundane bullshit. I want everything.” Another tug closes the distance between us, and then I’m pressed against his chest. He skates a hand down my spine and gives my ass a squeeze. “That’s better than any fictional happily ever after, don’t you think?”
“How can you be so damn confident all the time?” I whisper. Compared to him, I’m wobbling on my feet like some unsteady newborn creature.
He shakes his head. “It’s not confidence, beautiful girl. It’s the truth, and I try to always be honest with you.” He grimaces a little. “At least since we’ve been married.”
The caveat gives me pause. I lean back and narrow my eyes. “You would have saved me anyways, even without the ring.”
For the first time in a long time, he actually looks a little uncomfortable and won’t quite meet my gaze. “Maybe.”
“Jameson,” I say his name slowly, enjoying watching him fidget. “Are you sure you’re really the monster you claim? Because I think you might have a tarnished suit of armor stuffed in that wardrobe somewhere.”
He kisses me, a deep, rough kiss that has me weaving on my feet. Hook lifts his head before I’m ready for it to end. “Get ready, beautiful girl. Wear comfortable shoes.”
Because I might be running for my life before the day is through.
The thought weighs down the lightness in my chest brought on by his words. I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. “I want to live not-happily-ever-after with you, Jameson.”
His grin is blinding. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” The words feel strange on my tongue but not entirely unpleasant.
I rush through getting ready, moving quickly to avoid thinking too intensely about what comes next. I opt for comfort, slicking my hair back into a ponytail and pulling on a pair of jeans and one of my graphic T-shirts. Boots round out the outfit. I stare down at them, wishing that they were steel-toed instead. The thought brings a hysterical giggle to my lips. What would I do with steel-toed boots? I might be a fighter in the survival sense, but when it comes to actual combat, I’m a flail-violently-and-hope-for-the-best kind of woman.
Why the hell didn’t I pick up some kind of training in the last five years? Or at least take Hades up on his offer to get me shooting lessons? I know enough gun safety not to shoot myself in the foot, but the thought of spending
that kind of time with a weapon that still reminds me too much of Peter … I couldn’t stomach it. Even the taser, I purchased and stuffed in my bug out suitcase and promptly forgot about it.
There’s no use worrying about it now. There’s no other way forward. We were too far to go back the second I met Peter, and I can’t afford to think too hard about that, about paths not taken.
I ended up here. I don’t know if I believe in fate any more than I believe in happily ever after, but I want this future Hook paints for us. I want it desperately enough to fight for it.
We meet up with Nigel and Colin in Hook’s office. If I wasn’t already on edge, the serious expressions on all three of the men’s faces would put me there. Nigel shuts the door behind me, and I move to perch on the corner of the desk. “What’s the plan?” The sooner we get moving, the better.
“He’s watching you.” Hook speaks low, as if he really doesn’t want to admit it. “He’s had a couple people on this building since you showed up, and one of them followed you from Hades’s place.”
I shoot him a sharp look. This is new information. “Were you just not going to tell me?” I should have suspected Peter had me followed. How else would he know the exact moment I left the safety of Hades’s place?
“You were stressed enough without that added to the mix.”
His logic is flawed, but I’m not willing to get into it in front of his cousins. The end result is all that matters, and the end result is that Hook kept his promise and kept me safe. Now it’s time for me to do my part. “So the second I leave—”
“He’ll know.” Nigel has himself locked down. “Yes.”
Hook shifts, drawing my attention to him. “You won’t be alone with him. We just need to draw him out. We’ll go together.”
There’s one huge flaw in his plan, loathe though I am to point it out. “He won’t do it if you’re there.”
