11. Eamon
Eamon
The villa is quiet now. The only sound is the rhythmic splash of the waves outside. Eve is curled up beside me, her breathing slow and steady, her red hair fanned out across the pillow. The sight of her like this, relaxed and unguarded, does something to me I don’t want to name.
I should feel satisfied. Each time I fuck her, I tell myself it’ll be enough. That she’ll loosen her hold on me, and I’ll finally work her out of my system. But instead, it’s the opposite. I’m becoming addicted.
The thought lingers as I watch her sleep. It’s not just the way her body feels beneath mine, though that alone is enough to undo me. It’s the way she laughs. The way she looks at me like she knows exactly what kind of man I am and doesn’t care.
My jaw tightens as I run a hand through my hair, trying to shake the thoughts away.
This is temporary. Fleeting. It has to be.
But when she shifts closer to me, her hand brushing against my chest, all my resolve crumbles.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, allowing myself one stolen breath of peace even as I feel the chains tightening.
For now, I let her stay. For now, I let myself want her.
But reality never stays at bay for long.
As much as I’d like to keep losing myself in her, I can’t completely ignore the responsibilities waiting for me back home.
Cleaning up the mess the Callahan’s caused.
My Syndicate. The world I’ve built and fought to hold onto doesn’t allow for distractions like this, no matter how tempting.
Seamus will want an update. He’s loyal to a fault, but he’s no fool. If I don’t handle this, the questions will pile up, and the last thing I need is anyone thinking I’m distracted, or worse, weak.
I slip out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake her and grab my phone from the table. Stepping outside, I leave the sliding glass door cracked open. The night air wraps around me as I dial Seamus. The line barely rings before he picks up.
“Boss,” Seamus says, his voice rough but alert.
“I’m extending my trip,” I tell him, keeping my tone measured. “There are a few loose ends I need to tie up here.”
There’s a pause, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head. “Is this about the Callahan’s?” he asks cautiously. “Because if it is, you should be back here. We can’t afford to lose ground.”
“It’s not about the Callahan’s.”
“Then what is it about?” Seamus presses his tone harder now. “You’ve been gone longer than planned. The men are starting to ask questions. They need to see you here, running things, or?—”
“Or what?” I cut him off, my grip on the rail tightening.
“They’re beginning to think you’re losing control. That you’re distracted,” Seamus says bluntly.
My chest tightens, anger flaring hot and fast. “Distracted? I’ve bled for this Syndicate. Built it from the ground up. Don’t mistake me being out of sight for not being in full control.”
“Then come back,” Seamus snaps, his frustration bleeding through. “Handle things yourself before someone gets the wrong idea. I’m doing what I can, but?—”
“You’re overstepping.” The calm I’d been holding onto slips away, and my voice rises, cutting through the stillness of the night. “Your job is to keep things running while I’m gone, not question my decisions.”
Silence crackles on the other end.
“Are you done?” I press, my tone cold and unyielding.
“Yes, boss,” Seamus finally says, his voice clipped.
“Good. I’ll be in touch.” I end the call without waiting for a response.
A breath escapes as I rake my fingers through tangled hair and turn back toward the villa. But the sight of Eve standing in the doorway stops me cold.
She’s wrapped in nothing but the sheet from the bed, her hair tousled, her eyes locked onto mine. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” I say, softening my voice.
Instead of answering, she steps forward, releasing the sheet. It slips from her fingers and pools at her feet. The air leaves my lungs in a slow, controlled exhale, my gaze locked on her bare form. The call is already a distant memory.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, her voice pointed. Her green eyes narrow slightly, studying me with just enough interest to make my skin prickle.
Heat lingers in my gaze as I close the distance between us in a few steady strides. “Nothing I can’t handle,” I murmur as my palm presses flat against her lower back, pulling her flush against me.
She arches a brow, clearly unimpressed by the excuse. “Who’s Seamus?”
“No one you need to worry about,” I reply smoothly, brushing off the question as I lift her effortlessly into my arms.
She loops them around my neck. “You avoid questions too well for my liking.”
I chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as I carry her back into the bedroom. “And you’re far too tempting for me to care right now.”
Her lips twitch into a small smile, but her eyes linger on mine, searching for something I’m not ready to give. There’s curiosity there, but I don’t let her dig any deeper. Not tonight.
The mattress dips beneath her as I ease her onto the bed. She relaxes back against the pillows as I stand there watching her. The way the dim light catches the red in her hair, the way her gaze never strays from me, calm yet challenging all at once.
“Like what you see?” she asks, amusement dancing in her voice.
“You’re dangerous, Eve,” I reply as I crawl over her.
She raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m dangerous?”
“You have no idea,” I murmur, trailing my fingers along the bare skin of her thigh. The heat that sparks between us is immediate, a current I can’t seem to escape.
“I could say the same about you.”
The words hang between us for a beat, her voice quieter now. For a moment, I think about giving her something real, one small piece of who I am, of the things I carry, but the instinct dies before it can take hold.
Instead, I slide my hand higher, leaning in until my lips brush against hers. “Then I guess we’re a good match.” My voice dips, heat curling in my chest as I tug lightly on her lower lip.
She doesn’t argue. Doesn’t press for more. She just kisses me back as her fingers tangle in my hair.
I lose myself in her again, in the taste of her, in the feel of her body pressed against mine. It’s easier to let this pull between us drown out everything else.
Later, when she’s curled against me, her breathing even and slow, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling. I tell myself I’ll leave eventually, that this thing between us will burn out just as quickly as it started. But with her in my arms, the lie doesn’t feel as convincing as it should.