by Lila Rose
When I said nothing, she turned to Warren, so I opened my mouth to answer, just so I could have her glorious eyes back on me. “We’re here because….”
Fuck. I had nothing.
I honestly didn’t know what to say. Other than the truth, that I went a little crazy at the thought of her feeling things for one of my brothers. Oh, I suppose she would ask how I felt those things from her, and then I’d have to inform her it seemed I turned psycho because she was my mate and I didn’t like anyone near her, touching her, or talking to her. I wanted to possess her in many ways, not only her mind but her body as well.
Fucking hell. Just at the thought of her body, my dick sprang to life behind my jeans and my eyes then continued to travel the length of her. Christ, my dick and I both liked, wanted to lick, and enjoyed what we saw. She seemed tiny in frame, yet had curves that needed my hands and mouth on them, to touch, taste, and bite. I wanted—
“Motherfucker.” Warren sighed.
My glare landed on my brother. He glared back and then with a hand, gestured to my junk.
What the fuck?
As Warren cleared his throat and Julie turned away, I looked down and cringed. Anyone could see the outline of my erection.
Jesus. I bent lower; was that precum staining my jeans?
Quickly standing, I untucked my tee and pulled it over the front of my jeans, covering my bulge. Thank fuck Julie hadn’t seen, but when I saw her glance back with a blush darkening her cheeks and her eyes quickly glittered over my cock, I knew she had been witness to my eager dick. It wanted in her and it was pissed I wasn’t fulfilling its need.
“We’re here,” Warren started, “because we feel, for your best interest and safety, that you should come and stay in our apartments. As you can see, now that Dean has acted out what could happen under a real circumstance should a breakin occur, your house has proven not safe.”
Damn, he was good.
Really, it was no wonder Warren was in charge, to think on his feet like that.
Usually, I’d be smoother and quick thinking as well. What didn’t help was my brain was currently residing in my pants.
Warren’s plan was brilliant though. If we had… if I had Julie at the compound, I wouldn’t freak out as much. She’d be safer, not only from other men eyeing her, but from Kayne.
“That was because he kicked down all my doors,” Julie snapped.
“And so can any intruder,” I said. She turned to me. “Until we know you will be safe, and until you have your memory back, it would be wise for you to come with us.”
“So you all work together, you’re a part of what Falcone does?”
There was my fucking brother’s name again falling from her mouth.
Before I could do something like run from the room and harm my brother, Warren said, “Yes, we’re all a part of Apocalos Agents PI. We have the manpower and the best security system at our residence to help protect you.”
She gasped. “I need protection?”
Shit.
“We’re still unsure, Julie.” Her body shuddered as I said her name. “The investigation is currently still ongoing. We don’t have enough evidence to prove it was foul play or not. And if it was, we don’t have the answers to why someone would do what they did.”
“Look,” Warren barked. I scowled at him. “We don’t want to give you too much information. Falcone told us the doctors need your mind to remember on its own, so the more we say, the more we could jeopardize something,” he explained in an abrupt tone. It may have had something to do with the fact Julie hadn’t bothered to look at him while he spoke; her eyes stayed on me. Still, War was never one to sugarcoat things or to talk nicely to women.
“This, it’s all strange to me,” Julie mumbled quietly. She bit her bottom lip, and I wanted to do it with her. My teeth ached to sink into her plump bottom lip. She blushed and looked away to the door, so I did too. Falcone and Connor stood there, just behind Warren. She sucked in a breath and continued, “However, I do feel I can trust you.”
Wait, what? Did she just say that to my fucking brother and not me?
Falcone’s flinch and wide eyes told me that she had.
I was going to beat his ass black and blue.
“If you all think it’s important for me to come with you, I will, but….” She leaned away from me, closer to Warren, and then thumbed behind her toward me, asking, “Is that one sane?”
Because we all had heightened hearing, we all heard it. It was my turn to flinch. Connor burst out laughing, his hand going to the doorframe to hold himself up as he bent at the waist; his other arm held his stomach. Falcone and Warren were kind enough to hide their smirks by ducking their heads down. Also, because Julie now knew we’d all heard, she blushed and hid her face behind her hands.
“Oh, God. Shit.” Connor chuckled. “That was priceless, Julie baby. You just made my night.”
She mumbled something behind her hands.
On a grumble, I stepped in front of her and wrapped my hands around her wrists, causing us both to gasp—mine a manly one, of course—and our bodies to shudder with rightfulness. When I pulled her arms down, her gaze met mine straight away. Smiling, I offered, “I know I acted a little strange there for a moment, but I can promise you it was for good reason. I want nothing to happen to you, Julie, and I was worried my brothers were here taking advantage of you. Your safety means a lot to me…” Fuck. “…us, we pride ourselves on our work in safety. Still, we have our weaknesses and we know Connor is a manwhore—”
“Hey, you could at least say a good-looking manwhore,” Connor yelled.
Rolling my eyes, I continued, “And Falcone can bore anyone to sleep. I only needed to see that you were being treated well. Now that I know they will be on their best behavior,”—they fucking better be or I’ll hunt them and hurt them—“I won’t act like a fool again. Do you believe me, Julie?”
I was sure she was unaware her fingers were curled around mine, and she was gently running her thumb across the top of my hand as if she were comforting me. She studied my features for some time. Her eyes ran over my face, and I couldn’t help but notice they kept drifting back to my lips. I licked them, and her eyes widened. Satisfaction sank into my bones, relaxing me.
Finally, she nodded, so I asked huskily, “And do you trust me, Julie?” She closed her eyes; her breath accelerated.
When she opened her eyes, I could read her so clearly: She was scared, concerned, and apprehensive, but she did trust. Only, I wasn’t sure if it was me or Falcone she trusted. However, I was happy when she nodded her cute head and uttered, “I’ll come with you.”
“Well halle-fucking-lujah,” Warren blurted, his voice hard. With his eyes on Julie, he added, “You pack, and a car will be sent for you in thirty minutes. Dean, we need to finish the… um, questioning we started earlier. Then we will meet her at HQ.”
To ease Julie’s concern regarding me, I squeezed her hands before letting go and taking a step back. She watched my every move. Only she wouldn’t have a clue I was fighting with myself the whole time. Fighting the need to touch her, to be the one to take her to our home. She probably needed time away from my crazy actions, to let things sink in without having me hovering over her.
One thing was for sure, her needs would always come before my own.
Chapter Five
JULIE
“Curiouser and curiouser. Boy, did you get that one right, Alice,” I mumbled to myself from inside a plush town car as it made its way into the city. “This is one fine rabbit hole I’ve found myself in.” I should have been running for the hills, calling the police, the CIA… X-files at the very least. Still, I didn’t. As I leaned my head against the cool glass and watched the early morning darkness speed by, I decided it was time to reassess just what had happened in my bedroom. Also, how in the heck did I end up agreeing to, first, allowing a complete stranger to stay in my home? Second, after said home was destroyed, agreeing to stay with aforementioned weirdos… er, I mean
t strangers?
I wanted to feel safe; Falcone had given me that. The comfort and understanding he showed me during my epic meltdown gained him both my respect and trust. Actually, that sense of ease and safety seemed to come with all the brothers. Even Captain Crazy Pants, who came in with a bang, literally, as he knocked not one, but two—I found out when we left the house—of my doors off their flipping hinges! Then without warning, I was across the room in a corner, behind the tastiest backside I’d seen so far. I believe I’d muttered an embarrassing “holy moly.” Just picturing him sent my stomach into a crazy dive and perked up my nipples, as if they wanted to be ready for his attention. The need to touch him, to anchor myself, was overwhelming. When I had lightly touched him just below his ribs, I’d found myself lost in the hum of energy that seemed to be coming from our connection, and I vaguely heard Falcone confirm what I already knew: “He won’t do anything to you, Julie.”
Then the sexy whack-a-doodle had to go ahead and ruin my moment and growl, growl at Falcone.
Hot or not, and he was scorching, I was done. Since he, who I had finally put together was Falcone’s brother Dean, seemed a bit unstable in that bedroom moment, I’d asked what was going on, because instead of feeling I’d just slipped down a rabbit hole and gone crazy, annoyance had taken over my state.
“Nothing,” he’d replied, and finally, he turned enough for me to get a good look at him.
Holy crow. He was gorgeous. Then he gave me an innocent smile. Though, I didn’t buy the innocent bit. However, just seeing his smile had my girly bits singing with glee. Then his smile grew impossibly wider, brighter.
Again, the moment had been broken with an interruption of more growling. The guy was worse than a guard dog.
We’d calmed Dean down a bit, which took asking Falcone and Connor to step out. Poor Falcone, he’d kept assuring me I was safe, which only set Dean off further. I had been about to let Falcone know I was fine with it but thought it best to keep my trap shut. And then there were two, Dean and King Kong, who I’d found out was the last and bossy brother, Warren.
“Miss, we are arriving,” the driver stated, pulling me from my unhelpful thoughts. I had been sent to my new home by the PIs’ personal driver, because Falcone and Connor wanted to stay behind and help pack up some of my things—also to clean what their brother had destroyed. They didn’t know the length of time I would be staying under their protection, so they wanted me comfortable with my belongings. Which I thought was sweet. It also helped my nerves settle somewhat. Once their driver, a Mr. S., who was in his late sixties, had arrived at my home, I’d been ushered into the car and carried away.
When the car stopped, Mr. S. gestured to the enormous all-glass building ahead of us. It had to be at least fifteen stories tall.
Geeze, Louise. I knew those guys were the best of the best to be brought in on the train crash, but come on. “How do PIs afford plush town cars and space in an exclusive building?”
“They are very good at what they do, miss. Mr. Connor Apocalos owns Horsemen Hedge Funds, which is in the building, along with their PI firm. There are also three floors of guest suites for when the bigger clients come to visit, a coffee shop, a gym, their apartments, of course…. I don’t think I’m missing anything,” answered Mr. S. Falcone had told me he was their most trusted assistant.
Okay, first, I really needed to get my head rechecked by the good old doctor because the connection between my thoughts and my mouth kept crossing and misfiring. Second, how in the heck did the silly-shirt-wearing, flirty, good-looking, but total playboy brother end up owning one of the top investment firms in the country, more likely the world? Forbes magazine did an article a few months back that said something about a person needing to be worth at least five billion to get their phone call answered by Connor’s company.
Still, it all had to be kept for another time, because my sexy whack-a-doodle was back and opening the car door.
Disappointment that the other brothers weren’t there caused my hands to shake. Mostly Falcone; however, I was a fast learner, so I knew better than to mention that particular name to my handsome hothead.
“Was your ride comfortable?” Dean asked like the fate of the world and the life of the poor driver depended on my answer. The boy really needed to lighten up.
“Well, the seats were simply too welcoming, the leather was buttery soft, and I think the driver purposely hit that pebble on Third Street just to annoy me,” I overstated in the snootiest way I could muster with a straight face, and shot a dirty look at the front of the town car.
There was a moment of stunned silence before Dean threw his head back and burst out laughing. It was a deep, meaningful laugh from the gut. I never thought a man laughing could be sexy. I’d assumed it was one of those romance novel myths once again, but dear Book Goddess above, the man was so stunning, he practically glowed. Still laughing, he threw his arm around my neck, gently pulling me in close, and kissed my forehead.
My body shuddered. Did I just come? I think I just came, or at the very least piddled myself in glee like a happy puppy.
“My jewel, you might be just perfect.” Oh, I like that. My jewel, I like it a whole lot. He smiled, offered a wave to Mr. S., and then grabbed my hand, bag, and quite possibly my heart, and led us to the revolving doors. Okay, I’d always been partial to revolving doors; it may be a bit childish, but they were one of those simple joys in life. Though, that joy was currently sharing a segment with Dean. I would be drafting a new law in my free time that made revolving doors a required part of all buildings in the future. For those 8.4 seconds, Dean was everything. He seemed to invade all my senses. Out the corner of my eyes, I admired the sight of his muscles flexing through his shirt as he moved, and enjoyed the sound of his steady, even breaths, the feel of his strong, warm hand guiding mine, but it was his scent that obliterated my common sense. His scent made me crazy with need, causing my heart to beat erratically. His scent was an all-male musk, with a hint of cologne. The only reason I didn’t climb him like a squirrel on a tree was at that moment he dropped my hand, and our connection dimmed as we stepped into the lobby. Normally, I’d have been upset by the rejection, but the look in his eyes as he took a step away from me made it clear he was just as affected as I was. Good, at least this lusty need isn’t one-sided.
“Follow me, the elevators are this way.” He gestured with a flick of his hand. I’d have to be deaf to miss the husky tone his voice had taken on. I was officially screwed. At the rate I was going, I’d have to throw the panties I was wearing out. There would be no saving them; my private place was like El Niño whenever Dean was around. Why was he bringing such an intense physical reaction from me? It was as if my heart had already fallen for him, but my mind was still standoffish.
I decided to take a moment to calm myself with a deep shuddering breath and take in my surroundings. The lobby seemed to be a football field in length. To my right were double doors to a large walled-in garden and coffee shop, which, by the smell of it, was about to open for the day. To my left was a long concierge counter and waiting area. Ahead was a row of five elevators flanked by two sets of stairs. The entire space was pure opulence, but what drew, and held, my eyes was the intricate and meticulously inlaid marble and granite horse crest. I wanted to examine the design further, but Dean was already on the move.
We entered the middle elevator, and he put a small key in a lock at the bottom of the control panel and then pushed the black button next to it.
“Hope you don’t mind, but you will be staying in my quarters. In the guest room, of course. If you’re uncomfortable, we can move you to one of the guest suites, but we would have to call someone in early to air it out,” he added with hesitance.
Biting my bottom lip, I offered a fake unfazed shrug, even though I was equally glad and excited by the suggestion. “Honestly, the last two days have been a nightmare, literally. I’d rather not be completely alone right now, so it works for me.” I watched his whole body visibly re
lax with my answer.
He softly responded with, “Thank you.”
With nothing else to say, I turned my attention to the rising floor numbers.
10…
11…
12…
The numbers may have stopped at the twelfth floor, but the elevator continued on to the next one up and stopped.
“The thirteenth floor? Isn’t that bad luck? Most buildings skip it.”
He stepped out and informed me with a sexy smirk, “That’s a myth. All the best things happen with the number thirteen. For instance, in Judaism, thirteen signifies the age at which a boy matures and reaches Bar Mitzvah. The first flag of the United States bore thirteen stripes, alternating red and white, and thirteen white stars in the blue union.” He shrugged and continued with his information, “There’s also a baker’s dozen or a tarot card deck. XIII is the card of Death”—he wiggled his eyebrows at that one, like it had a special meaning, one I was missing—“and Connor’s personal favorite, Taylor Swift was born on December 13. She considers thirteen her lucky number. Tay-Tay, as he calls her, not that he has ever met the girl, is Connor’s guilty pleasure. He knows every song by heart.” He chuckled. “You can tease him about it.”
“Oh, I will. It’s priceless,” I said with a gasp, laughing so hard I snorted, and stepped out of the elevator and into the hall with him. It was a long corridor with five wooden doors: two on either side and one more at the end of the hall, directly in front of us. Each door seemed to have something branded into it and a word written in a language I didn’t recognize; each in a different color as well. We stopped at the first door on the left. It was then I realized all the side doors had a horse head burned into it. I’m starting to sense a theme here. The one we were about to enter had strange writing on it, in a very pale off-white with a hint of blue.