“Beau was my father.”
“Okay. Don’t suppose he was moody?”
This earns me a look that has me laughing.
“I have to be just as cunning,” he defends without apology, “just as ruthless, and you know why.”
“Are you saying there’s some sort of charming flip personality? Do let me see it.”
He slaps the side of my ass and I yelp. I swear my heart stops when he smiles at me.
“Jesus, Frenchman. I think I’ve broken you.”
He exhales and drops his head on my chest. “I’m human, Cecelia. I didn’t start this with intent to be…the way I have to be. I have to know a criminal mind to think like one. I have to command respect, loyalty.”
“Well, you seem to have succeeded there.”
“There’s no other way to go about it. But that’s not why I’m in this. I don’t need power. It’s a necessity. And I didn’t go into this looking to get rich. That’s also a necessity, the cost of the ante. I’m just as disgusted by some of the human products of money and power as you are, but it has to be a fair fight in order for there to be a fight.”
I swallow. “I know.”
“I’ve kept a lot of secrets in my life, easily, and without a second thought, but with my mother, it was damned near impossible to lie to her. She had this tone she used, and it worked like a truth serum on me. Within minutes she could get me to break. I thank God she’s the only one. And sometimes I’m grateful that she’s not here anymore to get the confessions out of me. Because I’m not sure she would want to claim me as her son if I was honest with her about the things I’ve done.”
His eyes flit with emotion before they gloss over in thought.
“My mother swore my real father was a horrible man, but I think, maybe, he was just misunderstood.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I have a feeling.”
“Or a secret?”
“A feeling,” he insists.
“Well, look at us,” I pipe up, “with our Daddy issues.”
“At least I had a man willing to step in where he failed.” He runs a hand down my abdomen, eyes lowered, nostrils flaring. He’s angry for me.
“I’m okay,” I say, running my fingers along his jaw and over his shoulders. “I really am okay. It’s time to suck it up and move on. But not one of my thousand dreams will include him.”
“You think you are okay, but the truth is, that’s a blow you’ll feel in some degree for the rest of your life.” His eyes flame. “I’ve never wanted to kill a man in cold blood as much as I did him yesterday.”
“You don’t ever have to be that guy.”
“I will take him down, Cecelia.” It’s a promise. Probably the only one he will ever be able to make me.
“You don’t have to do that, either.” His gaze goes from rolling embers to accusatory within the same second.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Tobias,” he lifts, and I force his eyes back to mine. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not condoning what you’re doing either, but I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. I would never ask you to.”
His stare turns incredulous. “How can you still feel anything for him?”
“I feel sorry for him.”
“That’s feeling something.”
“I’ll pity him when you’re done with him, too.”
He pushes me back to hover above me, his hand covering where my heart lay before he presses a kiss to it. “I’ve been such a bastard to you.”
“Yes, you have.”
“Don’t forgive me.”
“I haven’t and I won’t.” I fist his hair, pulling his eyes to mine.
“You’re trying to forgive me,” he says. “And I don’t deserve it.”
“Probably not. But I understand the game, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t stay angry because I know the reasoning behind some of what you do. I know how naïve that seems, but we weren’t just fooling around last summer, I was made to understand what this is about. I respect what you’re doing.” I roll my eyes and draw my next words out reluctantly. “I admire you for it, a lot more than I’ve let on.”
He nods, threading our fingers, his eyes unfocused.
“It’s been my life for so long, at this point I’m not sure if the man I am now and the boy who took it on still agree on much. And Dominic is so much like I was. And he’s only getting angrier. We’ve earned enough capital to go legitimate, but he likes the hunt too much. And he loves the street games. We’ve been arguing a lot about the way he handles things here.”
“What is it you want to happen?”
“Too much for a lifetime. I’m not sure how far I want it all to go.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve said too much,” he drops his head and rolls it back and forth on my stomach.
“You said you need a vacation. I really don’t think that’s equivalent to spilling trade secrets.”
“Let’s change the subject.”
“Let’s not. Let’s talk about Saint-Jean-de-Luz.”
“Leave it alone,” he warns, his tone going cold.
“Wow. Okay, that was a fast regression.” He lifts to hover above me, leans in to kiss me, and I turn my head.
“Don’t you dare think of denying me,” he growls, pulling my lip with his teeth.
“My, my, Frenchman, how demanding we are.”
He runs his erection along my thigh. “You called my name,” he murmurs, getting lost as he lines himself up with my entrance. “Fucking beautiful.”
“You’re just a gauntlet of emotions today.”
“I’m losing my fucking mind,” he narrows his eyes at me, “and you’re the reason.”
“Now I’m to blame?”
“Take it. Please take it,” he says softly. And I nod, just before I float away in his kiss.
“It’s vanilla.”
“It’s cinnamon,” I counter as he pulls the milk and eggs from the fridge.
“I hate cinnamon,” he grumbles.
“Hate is a strong word,” I argue as I start the coffee, grinding the beans for my new French press.
It’s become a morning ritual. He cooks for me, and I watch him while goading him for kicks. He stands in nothing but black boxers. His hair still damp from our shower. The bulge of his ridiculously thick thighs along with his impressive length and muscled ass strains the fabric where he stands only feet away. The sight of him tempting from any vantage point.
He woke me up this morning with my wrists secured in his hands, his head between my thighs. An apology for his day late return from a ‘business trip.’ I’d waited, restless, worried, especially with the image of his last injury fresh in my mind. He only spent two days away, but the wait felt like an eternity. And I endured it just for another stolen moment. With his wicked tongue, he apologized profusely until I’d verbally mouthed my forgiveness and only let me go when I shuddered beneath him.
Then he teased me mercilessly until I begged him to take me. And when he did, all playing ceased, our eyes locked, and he tore through me equally as starved. He kissed me with so much fervor, that I forgot myself, forgot that we were wrong.