by Stark, Cindy
“Damn, but you’re a hot one,” he said as he cradled her in his arms.
“You, too. Thank you.” She closed her eyes and inhaled, loving the scent of him and the sound of his strong, reassuring heartbeat. It didn’t take long for the annoying little reminders that he wasn’t hers to arrive. They popped like bubbles on the surface of reality, but she refused to acknowledge them.
No harm in basking in the afterglow for a few moments.
He wasn’t hers. She recognized that. What they’d shared had been purely physical, and she wouldn’t embarrass herself by thinking otherwise. But a few more seconds to enjoy him couldn’t hurt.
He drew lazy fingers down her arm, leaving a trail of shivers across her skin. The feel of him touching her, caressing her for no other reason than to bring her pleasure was heady. She had no one to care for her, no one who did something just to bring her joy. Normally, she could survive that way. But today had been hard, and this was so nice.
And dangerous to her psyche. If she allowed it to continue, she’d begin to crave it. That made her weak, vulnerable. These types of feelings would abandon her on the step of a door that wouldn’t open for her. She wasn’t sure she could bear the heartbreak of another love that would never be.
Except, this wasn’t love. It was sex. Pure, unadulterated, amazing sex.
But that time had passed. They’d both gotten what they’d wanted, and she needed to bow out gracefully before things became awkward.
She shifted in his arms and placed a kiss on his lips. “Thank you. You’re one hell of a lover.” She lifted from him, but he quickly wrapped solid arms around her and tugged her back into place.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice rumbled in his chest.
“Home.” She tried to sit again, but couldn’t budge him.
“I’m not done yet.” The command in his voice made her shiver.
“If we go another round, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” she said with a lighthearted chuckle.
“That’s cool, but that wasn’t what I meant when I said I wasn’t finished.”
Uncertainty sliced through her, and she mentally retraced her steps to where she’d left her purse and the Duke. Had she totally misread this guy? She defended women all the time who had been hurt by trusting the wrong person. God help her if she was the next statistic.
He pulled her tighter and softly kissed her lips. “Stay with me. For a while. I like the feel of you next to me.”
She relaxed back with relief. So it was cuddling he wanted? She swallowed, trying to keep unwanted emotions at bay. She didn’t want this part. No…actually, she did. But she shouldn’t. In some ways, she was in more danger than she would be staring down a gun. “I should go.”
He rolled on top of her, pinning her with the heavy weight of his sexy body. He framed her face between his hands. “Please? Just for a while?” He placed his lips on hers and kissed her until her blood began to sing again.
“Okay,” she said on a sigh. She could be strong for a few more minutes. She thought he’d move off her once she’d agreed, but he stayed, staring into her eyes.
“This feels good,” he whispered.
Normally, she’d worry a guy might get clingy, but she found she didn’t mind so much with him. “It does.”
“Yeah?” He rolled again and pulled her on top of him. “Good.”
She settled next to him and inhaled, drawing his scent deep into her lungs, making her wonder again if she shouldn’t have been more adamant about leaving.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked, needing to chase away the awkward silence.
“About five years. I used to have a place on the outskirts, but I find I like the pulse of the city.”
“I didn’t know the owners had apartments above this bar.”
He chuckled. “You’ve been to Caora Dubh before then?”
“Once or twice.” When she’d been in a similar mood as tonight. Though she hadn’t left with anyone.
“I don’t recall seeing you.”
She snorted. “Just because you live above the pub doesn’t mean you know everyone who frequents it.”
“I could argue that since it is my pub, and I’m there most nights.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “You own Caora Dubh?”
“Aye. I do,” he said with an exaggerated Irish accent.
She laughed.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
“That’s a whole different subject. I kick ass and take names.” She said it sarcastically, but she was sure there were many people out there, mostly guys, who hated her with a passion because she’d forced them to own their actions.
“Cop?” he asked. “Though you don’t seem like the law enforcement type. Wait a second. I’m pretty good at reading people… Attorney.”
She stiffened, not liking a layer of her anonymity stripped away.
“I’m right.” He squeezed her. “Don’t worry. I won’t give away your secret.”
“Okay.”
“What made you decide to go to law school?” He stroked her arm, drawing sensual fingers over her skin, and she nearly purred from the sensation.
“What made you decide to open a bar?” she countered not wanting to get too personal.
“I like people. I like beer,” he said with certainty. “You?” he asked again.
“Umm…” She hesitated, taking a moment to check the pulse of their circumstances, to assess whether or not she was in a safe place like she’d taught herself to do as a child. Self-preservation had been everything back then.
Despite Christian’s ability to command the situation, she sensed no danger or malicious intent. “I guess I’ve always felt the need to speak up for others who can’t speak for themselves,” she finally answered.
“So a bad ass who looks out for others? I like the way that sounds.”
She couldn’t stop the warmth in her heart from spreading to her lips. “Some people need help, you know? Growing up, my brother and I could have used someone looking out for us, but we were mostly on our own. If I can make that kind of difference in someone’s life, I will.”
“I find that extremely sexy, you know?” He kissed the top of her head. “Can I ask what happened to you and your brother? Where were your parents?”
She inhaled. Her childhood wasn’t something she discussed with most people, but for some reason, Christian seemed different. “My mother was a crack head, if you could call her a mother. She was rarely home. When she was, she was strung out, and she could get mean. We lived that way for years. Finally, my brother Eric and I took the car and ran away when we were sixteen.”
“Your mom never came after you because you took the car?”
“Nope. I haven’t seen or heard from her in ten years. Hope I never do again. She’d better hope she never crosses my path, either.”
“You’ll kick her ass, too?”
A wave of pain she hadn’t experienced in some time rolled through her unexpectedly. “I’d like to, but probably wouldn’t.” That time had come and passed. Her wounds had healed, making her into the woman she was today, and she never wanted to go back to that place.
“Is your brother a lawyer, too?”
If only she hadn’t lost Eric along the way. She tucked her lips in, wondering how Christian managed to hit on her tender spots so easily. “No.”
“What does he do? Does he live in Portland?”
She tried to produce ambiguous words that wouldn’t lead to more questions, but she couldn’t focus on anything except the last time she’d seen Eric living in a park in conditions similar to Howard’s, looking scruffy and lost. “I don’t know.”
He shifted onto one elbow so he could see her better. “You don’t know where your brother is?”
She made to rise. “I really should be going. This was never meant to be anything other than sex.”
He let her go this time, but followed her up. Before she could take two steps, he cau
ght her arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t.” She tugged, trying to get him to release her. “It’s fine.”
He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward him. “It’s obviously not. Maybe I can help?”
Tears caught in the back of her throat. She couldn’t deal with his tenderness. “Really, it’s not your concern. He disappeared on the streets over a year ago. There’s nothing anyone can do that I haven’t already tried.”
He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I won’t press the issue, but I have a few connections with people on the streets. I could ask around.”
She slipped from his grasp and snatched her panties from the carpet. “I’ve already done that. No one has seen him in a while. He’s either left town or he’s…” She couldn’t speak her worst fear.
“Okay.”
She escaped the room and headed for the living area where she’d left the rest of her clothing, feeling naked in more than one way. She slid into her skirt, not bothering with her bra or shirt. With hasty movements, she stuffed her clothes into her bag and donned her jacket.
“Are you sure you have to be in such a hurry?” He leaned against a wall at the end of the hallway, still gloriously nude.
“It’s late.” Her heart raced, leaving her anxious. She hadn’t experience a panic attack in a long time, but now, the world seemed to crash in around her and she struggled to breathe. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday.”
It was? “I know. I’ll be putting in some overtime.” She glanced at her belongings to be sure she had everything. When she was certain she did, she hurried to him and placed a quick kiss on his lips, trying not to stare at his beautiful body. “Thank you. You were amazing.”
With that, she hurried for his front door, opened and closed it before he could say anything else. Once she was on the other side, she zipped her jacket tightly closed and tried to catch her breath as she descended the metal stairs.
Cool, moist air filtered into her lungs, giving her a sense of control once again. She scrambled down the steps, praying the door wouldn’t open behind her.
What the hell had she been thinking going home with a stranger? Doing something like that was risky at best. Or downright dangerous as tonight proved. She reached the bottom of the stairs and dashed for her car.
Once inside, she locked the doors and started the engine. As she put her vehicle in drive, she glanced up at Christian’s apartment and found the magnificent man standing on the balcony staring at her. She gave the accelerator gas, her tires squealing as she pulled away.
She couldn’t explain why, but she felt as though the devil chased at her heels. If he caught her, her life would never be the same.
Chapter Four
Christian opened the door as soon as he had his pants on, but Eliana was already in her car and pulling away. “Fuck almighty.” He leaned against the railing and took a moment to clear his head of the aftereffects of lust the woman had left behind. He’d had no idea screwing a beautiful, vivacious woman could be so complicated. Especially one who wanted nothing from him but sex.
Funny how that worked. He’d gotten what he’d wanted, so why the hell should he be so worked up right now? Most guys would count their lucky stars their fuck for the night had hightailed it out without wanting snuggles and breakfast.
“Dammit.”
He strode into his apartment and slammed the door. He didn’t bother to flip on the lights as he moved to the kitchen. Inside his fridge, a cold one waited for him, and he focused on the hiss as he opened a bottle of his favorite brew. Cool liquid chilled his dry throat, but it did nothing to quench the fire burning inside him. Crazy thoughts rattled around in his brain, instead.
Who was she? Why did she seem so familiar?
He knew her first name and her profession so he wouldn’t have a hard time tracking her down if he wanted to, but did he want to? She obviously wanted nothing more than a quick fuck. Best to leave it at that, right?
Back in the living room, he sank into the recliner and lifted his phone. Five rings sounded before Hunter answered.
“Yo. Give me some good news.” Hunter was just as hell bent as he was to bring down Angel Hardy and Georgio Donati. Not that the other guys in Hunter’s gang of vigilantes weren’t as committed, but Hunter had a special place in his heart for the bastards. So did Christian.
He exhaled. “No luck. My brother didn’t show.”
“Fuck. It’s like we’ve gone three hundred miles down a dark road, thinking we were close to reaching our destination, only to find we took a wrong turn.” Frustration and something close to despair echoed from the man’s words. Out of all of them, Hunter had lost the most. First his wife and kids. Then the woman he thought might give him a second chance at happiness.
What remained was a dark and dangerous shell of a man, made more so because he had nothing left to lose. Georgio Donati had stripped him bare, leaving Hunter a mass of barely contained, raging pain.
Christian understood, at least to a point, that hollow, endlessly aching emptiness that filled the space where his own soul should be. “I’ll try again tomorrow. I think this vein will pay off in the end. We just need to be patient.”
At least he hoped so. He’d invested a lot in hoping information from his brother would pan out. When he’d discovered Gideon was involved, Christian had opened old, painful wounds in order to further their investigation. Anything to end this string of violence.
Christian had hit bottom when he’d watched a man bleed out from a bullet hole he’d put in his gut. The inhuman sounds of pleading to end his rival’s suffering still echoed in his mind. Yeah, he’d only been fifteen, and his older brother had more or less been the force behind the trigger. Still, Christian had shot the gun. The man’s blood was on his hands, and he had a lifetime of atoning to do.
“Might not be much intel to gather right now, anyway,” Hunter grumbled. “Hardy’s been spotted along the coast, in Guy Contreras’s old territory. Now that Guy is dead, it sounds like Hardy wants to take over. I’m unsure if Donati will let him, but that might be the best place to focus our efforts right now.”
“I’m not sure Donati has a choice.” Hardy had grown increasingly more aggressive during the past six months since he’d taken out his competition. It had been Hunter’s idea to pit the two factions of Donati’s organization against each other in an effort to draw out Guy Contreras and help their buddy Ryan clear his name.
Instead of garnering the desired results, Guy was now dead, Ryan’s name may very well stay muddied forever, and they’d stirred up a shitstorm of activity in the underground drug world that ruled Portland and the surrounding towns. Already, three different men had tried to control the area. All of them were now dead.
When all was said and done, none of Christian’s vigilante brothers knew how Donati’s organization would end up.
“Is Ryan able to keep a handle on things in that area? Maybe one of us needs to head to the beach.” Christian would be the one most likely to go since the other two had daytime jobs that required them to be in town a good portion of the time, and he could leave Nicole, his trusted employee to run the bar.
“I offered help. He said no,” Hunter said. “He reported that things are percolating again, but nothing’s close to blowing yet. If he needs me, I’m not far.”
Christian hesitated. “If you say so. My gut tells me more’s going on than we think.”
“You got anything to back that up?” Hunter asked in a gruff voice.
“Nothing concrete.” He wished he had a better answer. Wished he could have learned something that night at Gideon’s bar.
“All right. Keep me posted. Ryan’s expecting another shipment of heroin to route up Highway One tomorrow night. We’re planning to ambush just outside Rockaway after midnight. It’s not much, but hopefully, it’s enough they’ll feel the sting.”
“Anyth
ing that might slow them down,” Christian agreed. Mentally, he and the other guys were ready for whatever might come, but he couldn’t help the uneasiness churning in his gut.
“Exactly. I’m going to hang up. I need to finish modifications on the latest security program. I’ve kept the G-men waiting too long as it is. If I don’t produce in another week, they’ll start looking elsewhere for a programmer.”
“Damn,” he said quietly as though big brother might actually be listening. “As long as you give it to ‘em as specified by your contract, they can’t say shit.”
Hunter chuckled. “Unfortunately, timelines only apply to others when it comes to the government. Talk soon, bro.”
Christian hung up as a weight settled heavier on his chest. He needed to finish this, needed to bring down his brother and the Donati crime family while he still had a semblance of sanity left. Each day that passed, each person who died because of their organization ate another piece of his heart and mind, especially now that he knew his own brother was involved. If Christian and his friends didn’t hurry to end them, there would be nothing left of his soul to salvage.
* * *
Weak morning light filtered between Eliana’s eyelids, gently teasing her brain, taunting her with light instead of darkness. She groaned and rolled over, snuggling deeper into her covers. Buttery soft sheets caressed her skin, and she allowed the siren’s lullaby of sleep to drag her back into its cozy depths.
“Shit!” The word rang through her head before exploding from her mouth. She jerked awake and sat up, her heart rampaging through her chest. She needed to get her ass out of bed and head to the park to check on Howard. Thoughts of his festering wound had haunted her throughout the night, along with a certain dark-haired lover who’d teased her until she’d cried out. She’d had a hell of a hard time sleeping, and though she was tired as all get out, she wouldn’t rest until she’d taken care of Howard. She knew damn well he wouldn’t seek medical attention, but nothing stopped her from taking what he needed to him.
It took her little time to dress and hit the road, bringing along her medical kit and a fried egg sandwich. Parking spaces were quickly disappearing with vendors preparing to sell their wares at the Saturday Market near the waterfront. Howard wouldn’t be on the wall today, preferring to stay away from the crowds who flooded the area on weekends. Some of his friends took advantage of the increase of potential money donors. Not Howard.
