by Eva Ashwood
The words are barely out of my mouth before Sloan snaps. He moves like lightning striking, slamming me against the brick wall of the alley as his mouth descends on mine.
His kiss is hard and bruising, his fingers gripping my upper arms tightly, and it only takes me a second or two to catch up and start kissing him right back.
I kiss him with the same intensity I want to punch him, taking out all my anger and frustration in the pressure of my lips against his.
When I wrap my arms around his neck, Sloan growls roughly, the sound reverberating through me. For some reason, the feeling of his deep voice in my body just gets me hotter, and I bite down on his bottom lip, making him groan sharply.
His hands are all over me, running up and down my sides, cupping my ass, squeezing and groping every part of me he can reach. One of them slides under the hem of my shirt, and it’s my turn to make a noise of surprised pleasure at the feeling of his large, calloused palm on the flat of my back. His hands are warm, and they heat my body up too. My nipples are hard, and the pulsing thrum of need is gathering between my legs.
I can feel the buzz of the booze in my blood and my head, making it even easier for me to give in to this. My heart is pounding, and I follow Sloan’s lead, pushing my hand up under his shirt and touching his abs before moving around to his back, avoiding the fresh stitches in his side. I drag my nails down the expanse of his back, over the bunched muscles, and he shifts, shoving me harder against the wall.
Stupid, half-formed thoughts are running through my head, logic and reason and strategy flying out the window as something else entirely takes over my body.
It would be so easy for him to fuck me right here and now. He could pull my pants down, make me face the wall and drive into me. Or I could take my pants off altogether and wrap my legs around his waist. He might pull his stitches if we did that, but I don’t even know if he’d care. The fact that we were only sort of hidden in our position stopped seeming to matter as soon as he got his hands on me, and all I know is I want more.
It’s a real mind-fuck, considering the game I’m playing.
The lie I’m living.
Sloan is aggressive, groping at my body and trailing scorching kisses down to my neck in a way that makes me shiver and almost melt against him. I wanted his attention, and I got it for sure, but it’s hard as hell to tell where the game ends and real feeling begins.
I know I’m not faking my body’s reaction to him.
But what about everything else?
I shouldn’t want this. I’m supposed to be playing a role here, and that’s it. I’m lulling Sloan—lulling all of them—into a false sense of complacency so that they’ll trust me and I can destroy them. But at the moment, everything feels way too fucking blurry. The feelings coursing through me feel too real, and so does the need that echoes in every beat of my heart.
I don’t know what Sloan’s angle is, whether he’s playing his own game or if this is real attraction. He’s so fucking hot and cold with his attitude toward me, and taking this opportunity to make some headway with him is a good idea.
Probably.
With the way my mind is spinning and my body is craving him, I can’t tell up from down, let alone right from wrong.
Am I getting closer to my goal right now, or farther away from it?
Sloan’s breathing is ragged right there against my ear, and I grind forward against him, moving my other hand to feel the bulge at the front of his pants.
“You fucking tease,” he growls out, pressing his hips harder against my hand, clearly seeking out more friction.
“You’re one to talk,” I shoot back, panting hard. “You’re so goddamn—”
I fall silent when I hear the sound of footsteps, then an impatient huff from not that far away. Sloan and I lean toward the sound at the same time, and I’m not surprised to see a woman standing just a few feet away, arms folded, irritation clear on her face.
She’s seen us making out like horny teenagers in an alley, and even though she could easily go right into the convenience store and go about her business, she doesn’t seem to want to leave until she’s let us know how appalled she is by our behavior.
She stands there, glaring for another second or two, and then turns on her heel and marches into the store, letting the door shut behind her with more force than is probably necessary.
I roll my eyes and look back to Sloan, but the spell is broken now. He’s stepping back, pulling his hands away from me and running one through his hair instead. He meets my eyes for a second before he turns away, still breathing hard.
My stomach tightens, and I try to think of something to say as I smooth down my own wild hair.
But what is there, really?
We keep finding ourselves in this situation, and every time I give in to the connection that burns between us, it feels like I lose a little piece of my fucking soul.
10
After another second or two of just looking and not talking, Sloan turns to leave without a word. I sigh and straighten my clothes before going back to what I came here for in the first place.
The scandalized woman is still inside the convenience store, and I can feel her eyes on me as I walk in and walk right past her, heading for the bathroom.
The man behind the counter doesn’t look like he gives a single shit what happens inside or outside his store, and I lock the door to the bathroom just in case, letting out another slow exhale as I go about my business.
I pee quickly and then use my foot to press down the lever to flush the toilet. I wash my hands and glance at my appearance in the mirror above the sink. The bad lighting isn’t doing me any favors, and I check to make sure Sloan didn’t leave hickeys all over my neck or anything. I run my fingers through my hair to neaten it and then head out, making my way back to the car and everyone else.
Another heat has already started, and the crowd is loud and excited as the two cars tear down the road.
Rory smiles at me when I come back, and Levi nudges me with his elbow when I take my spot between them again. True to fucking form, Sloan doesn’t spare me a glance.
He’s leaning right back in his spot like he never left, arms folded and eyes on the racers, like he wasn’t about to fuck me in a damn alley.
As always, he’s just going to act like nothing happened. Like he doesn’t lose his shit around me all the time, when I do so much as talk to some other guy.
It’s like I’m not even here. He refuses to so much as glance in my direction, but I can still feel that heat burning between us. It’s palpable, and I know he can feel it too. No one’s that good of an actor, not even this asshole.
But I’m going to call him out. After all, I’m playing a fucking role here myself, and getting under Sloan’s skin is part of that. I’ll use the chemistry that burns between us if I have to—if it gets me what I need.
Maybe my dad wouldn’t be proud of the methods I’m using to exact my vengeance, but I can’t let that stop me. The Black Roses don’t play fair, so I can’t afford to either.
I let my attention stay on the road, cheering on the racers as the heats step up to the next level, getting closer to determining who’s going to race for the final win. It’s loud all around us, but the guys are close enough that I can hear them talking, Sloan moving closer to lessen the chance that they’ll be overheard by someone else.
I can’t make out everything they’re saying, but I catch Rory saying something about a church. I remember what Levi told me about the church, too.
It’s what got my dad into trouble in the first place, what feels like ages ago. The Jackals and the Black Roses bet on his fight. The winner would get the church, and my dad was supposed to throw the fight. He didn’t. The Black Roses lost big on that bet.
“They’re not just going to let this stand,” Rory says, and he sounds serious for once. “They want some retaliation. They want blood.”
Levi told me things were getting bad again, and it seems like he’s right. Whate
ver fragile peace has existed between the two biggest gangs in the city seems to be coming to an end.
I stash that information away for later. I’m not sure what I can use it for yet, but every little bit helps. Maybe I can work the tension between the two groups to my advantage in some way? More than I’m trying to already, anyway.
The rest of the race goes by pretty quickly, and I half watch, half listen and plot. The booze I drank has settled in, and I feel hazy and sleepy once everyone starts to disperse.
“Come on,” Levi says with a grin, holding up a hand to help me down from the back of the car. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I think I can manage to climb down by myself,” I tell him, but I take his hand anyway, letting him help me.
He gives me a warm smile for my trouble and then opens the door to the backseat for me. For a split second, I consider trying to claim shotgun, just to really rile Sloan up, but I’m too floaty and tired for that. So I settle into my usual spot and buckle up, getting comfortable.
It’s a quick drive back to the house, and we all clamber out and head inside, going our separate ways. Rory goes upstairs, and Levi heads for the kitchen, leaving Sloan in the living room.
I start to head up to my room, ready for a shower and bed, but as I walk past him, I notice Sloan watching me with an intense look in his eyes.
It reminds me of the way a predator would watch their prey, and I feel my stomach flutter as I keep moving. It’s a little bit from fear, because I have no idea what he knows and no idea what he has planned, and an equal part raw, stupid attraction.
On Sunday, I plan to sleep the fuck in, nursing a little bit of a hangover from going so hard on the whiskey last night. I roll over in bed just in time to see my door opening and Rory poking his head in.
“Are you decent?” he asks, pretending to cover his eyes but peeking through the gaps in his fingers. Without waiting for me to respond, he walks right in, grinning as he looks me over.
I’m in a tank top and underwear under the covers, but the blankets are barely covering me at this point, giving him a pretty good view. And in true Rory fashion, he takes advantage of it, practically devouring me with his gaze.
“You know there’s this thing people do when they want to come into someone else’s room. Especially when the door’s fucking closed and it’s an ungodly hour of the morning,” I mutter, fighting the urge to drag a pillow over my face.
Jesus. How is he like this? Rory went drink for drink with me last night, but he seems fine, his usual cheerful self.
He taps a finger against his lips and then shrugs. “Hmm, this thing people do. Can’t think of what that might be,” he says, still grinning.
“You’ve gotten two tats in a row, and that’s not even a little bit fair.”
“Hey, if you want to give me two tits, I’m not going to complain.”
He punctuates that sentence by looking right at my chest. My nipples are pretty visible through the thin material of my shirt, and I can see the heat flaring in his green eyes.
It matches the heat that flares in me, just from the way he’s looking at me, and I roll my eyes at the banter anyway, trying to ignore the way he’s making me feel.
“What do you want?” I groan. “It’s too early for this.”
“It’s after ten,” he points out. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come see Piper with me today. She’s been asking about you.”
I blink. “Oh.”
That’s the last thing I expected him to say. Both things, actually. His time with his daughter seems like this sacred thing from the way he talks about it, and I had no idea I made that big of an impression on Piper the one time she met me. But I guess kids latch onto things and people pretty easily.
I have no idea what to do with this either way. I should say no, really. There’s no point to me going. Rory doesn’t talk shop around his daughter or Jen, so there’s nothing I can learn about Black Rose business by being there. That’s supposed to be the goal of me spending time around the guys. Getting information.
“Yeah, okay,” I find myself saying anyway. I’m not even sure why. A minute ago, all I wanted was to sleep the day away, but there’s something about the thought of going with him that eases the ache in my heart a little, the sadness of missing my own dad. I can’t really say no to that.
“Awesome,” he says, smiling at me. It’s not even the flirty, teasing smile he usually has on either. He looks genuinely pleased. “Half an hour?”
“Sure. I need to get dressed and stuff.”
He stands there for a second, like he has no intention of leaving while I get changed, and I roll my eyes again and throw a pillow at him. It hits him square in the face, and he laughs before retreating, closing the door on his way out.
I quickly brush my teeth and throw on some clothes, going for comfort more than seduction, since we’ll be hanging out with a little kid. I brush my hair and shake off the last of my hangover before heading downstairs to meet Rory.
Levi and Sloan are nowhere to be seen, and Rory smiles as we head to the car.
Just like last time, Piper practically launches herself at him as soon as we get inside the house, and he laughs and scoops her up, twirling her around and lifting her over his head while she squeals with delight.
Jen just smiles as she watches the two of them, and there’s so much fondness on her face that it makes my chest ache a little.
“I see Rory conned you into coming over here again,” she says to me.
“Hey, ‘conned’ makes it sound like there was lying involved,” Rory retorts before I can respond. He puts Piper down and she comes over to me, smiling shyly. “She knows what she’s getting herself into.”
“Hi,” Piper says, waving and then putting half her hand in her mouth.
“Hey,” I reply, waving back. “What do you want to do today?”
“Zoo!” she answers, bouncing up and down. “Wanna see pengins.”
“Penguins,” Rory and Jen say at the same time.
“Jinx,” Jen adds. “You owe me a coke.”
“I’m taking the kid out so you can go get your hair done,” Rory shoots back. “I think that’s good enough.”
“Oh yeah, because you don’t want to take her to the zoo. You’re so put out. Poor you.”
They bicker like siblings, and I find myself smiling as it continues while Jen makes sure Piper has her shoes on and gives Rory a bag loaded up with the things she might need throughout the day. She doesn’t have to lecture him about the things Piper likes or needs because he already knows. Even though he and Jen aren’t together, he’s such an active part of his kid’s life, instead of just being a dad who shows up every other weekend to take her somewhere and then bring her back without actually caring.
“Have fun,” Jen says, seeing us out the door. “Mercy, don’t let them run you ragged.”
“They’re welcome to try,” I say with a smile. I hold Piper’s hand while Rory gets her car seat situated, and then we pile into the car and head off to the zoo.
I haven’t been to the Fairview Heights Zoo probably since I was in middle school and we went on a class field trip or something. It’s bigger than I remember it, and full of people out enjoying the nice day.
Rory holds Piper's hand, and she drags us from exhibit to exhibit, demanding to be picked up so she can see the animals better. I can’t help but smile as Rory does so each time, answering her questions as best he can, sometimes with help from the information cards by the enclosures.
It’s actually really nice. It’s more fun and relaxing than I expected it to be, and I can feel some of the tension bleeding out of me the more we walk around. Ever since my dad died, it’s been all scheming and mourning in secret, and feeling fucked up all the time. It’s nice to take a break from that and have something else to focus on.
Piper's excitement about everything from the red pandas to the hot dog Rory buys her is pretty infectious, and it’s hard to be locked in my own head when I’m following
them around, laughing as he tries to keep up with his daughter.
We make our way around to the penguin exhibit just in time for the presentation they have running every hour or so. Piper’s eyes light up, and a worker in khaki shorts and a green shirt comes over to bend down to her height.
“Do you want to sit up front with the other kids?” she asks Piper. “I just know the penguins would love to meet you.”
Piper looks up at Rory with wide eyes. “Can I?” she breathes.
He laughs. “Go on. Follow the nice lady.”
The employee takes Piper and settles her at the front where three rows of low benches have been set up, right at the edge of the enclosure. The parents and babysitters of the other kids are all gathered at the back, so Rory and I step over, finding a spot for ourselves a little behind the rest of them.
A man dressed in the same zoo uniform comes out, wearing a mic and holding a bucket, and he waves to all the kids. “Hey, good afternoon! Who wants to learn about penguins?”
The kids clamor their excitement, and he launches into a spiel about penguins and their habitats.
I sort of expect Rory to have his eyes glued to Piper or be paying more attention to the presentation than anything else, but not more than two minutes in, I feel arms wrap around me from behind. I jump, a little surprised, but his warmth is familiar at my back, so I don’t pull away.
Instead, I lean into it, taking comfort in how close he is and how that makes me feel. The employee goes on, talking about what penguins eat and how they choose mates, and then another employee comes out, bringing three penguins with her, waddling across the icy ground of the habitat. The kids go nuts for the animals, cheering and trying to get closer to the glass wall so they can see better.
Rory’s hands start to move a bit, and the fingers of one hand find the hem of my shirt, slipping under it to splay across my stomach. The other hand dips a little into my pants. Not enough that he’s groping me or anything, but definitely not zoo appropriate as his pinky strokes along the strip of skin between my stomach and my crotch.