20. Cian
Chapter 20
Cian
In my dream, we’re still in that motel shower.
“Please, Cian,” Harper cries again. “Oh, fuck.”
What she’s pleading with me about while I rail her, I have no idea.
All I know is that I can’t stop ramming my cock inside of her.
In real life, this is the part where I came harder than I ever have. But in the dream, I pull out and maneuver Harper’s body until her back’s pressed against the cold tile wall and her legs are fastened around my waist. My cock’s hard and soggy from that little monsoon maker between her thighs, and when I slide back in, tears fall from her eyes.
“What is it?” dream-me asks.
Harper’s eyelids lower, warm sincerity on her face. “I love you.”
I jolt upright in the motel bed, alone, chest heaving up and down like I just ran a marathon.
Morning wood is an understatement.
Also, what the fuck was that ?
Across from the bed, the bathroom door is shut. I hear the shower through the thin wood.
I groan, falling back against the mattress.
The memories return like an ocean swell. I spent all night dreaming about fucking her in the shower. And what we did right here, between these sheets, I can only describe as lovemaking, and that’s probably the grossest, sappiest thing I’ve thought in a long time.
So why do I feel like this?
Like I want to do that with her every night the rest of my life.
I drag one hand over my face. This complicates things.
The De Lucas are after her. She’s wanted by the Kings.She’s a mafia daughter, the child of my boss, the ex-fiancée of my best friend and future boss. Shane Gallagher instructed me to haul her ass back to New York so she can face the music for all the chaos she created by running away.
Nothing about our situation has changed since this morning, yet everything seems unfamiliar, new, and strange. I don’t even know how to act around her. Am I supposed to pretend like twice was enough? As if that little taste was all I needed?
That’s how I’d treat her if she were any of the other women I’ve slept with, but in all those other instances, my apathy was genuine.
I am who I am, and I don’t lie about the way I feel.
If I treat someone like they’re expendable to me, it’s because they are. And if I treat someone like I cherish them, it’s because I…
My eyes widen, fixed on the ugly blue popcorn ceiling.
I refuse to finish that thought.
My phone shrills on the nightstand, interrupting my disastrous thinking.
I answer before I check the Caller ID and regret it the second I hear Finn Gallagher’s voice.
“We just got a phone call from Harper.” The irritation in his tone glances right off me. “Where the hell are you?”
The eerie, bitter surprise of betrayal spreads over me, thick and viscous like someone cracked an egg on my skull.
I’m off the bed in seconds, marching toward that closed bathroom door. With one good kick, I pound the thing open and glare inside.
The shower’s running all right, and so is Harper.
As in, she’s gone.
Again.
“I had Rory trace the phone she used?—”
“Give me the coordinates.” The words are one notch beneath a growl as I tear through the motel room, gathering my clothes and nearly ripping them in the process of dressing myself.
“The De Lucas are on the move. I’m sending reinforcements your way?—”
“No.” I damn near bark. “Don’t do anything. I’ve got this. I’ll get her.”
It’s a struggle to speak when I’m this angry.
“Cian.”
“Listening.” Shoving out the front door into the blinding tropical sun, I’m forced to squint as I head toward the motel parking lot.
“What’s going on there?”
“Nothing.” I sound defensive as fuck because I am.
Harper tricked me. What does she take me for?
What about everything we shared last night? I put myself out there, connected with her on a level I’ve never come close to before, and she runs away the morning after as if I’m some kind of undesirable one-night-stand? She even left the shower on to throw me off!
“Tell me the fucking truth, Cian.” Finn exhales loudly. “Or I’m not sending you the coordinates.”
My feet stop moving.
Now, I’m pissed at Finn.
“I’m in pursuit. Close by. I’ve got this under control?—”
“There was a headline this morning about a mass shooting attempt at a Waikiki restaurant last night. Reports say some random guy shot the would-be gunmen with their own weapons and fled the scene.”
My annoyed grumble causes a smug edge to underscore Finn’s voice. “I’m sure that wasn’t you.”
“Like I said, I’ve got things here under control. Harper and I will be on a plane back to New York by end-of-day.”
Finn goes quiet, which drives me fucking insane. I want to chuck my phone and go find Harper, but I can’t. I’m forced to stand there and wait while precious seconds slip past.
My phone vibrates against my ear. A text message. The coordinates.
“Get on a plane tonight, Cian.” Finn’s using his future-boss voice again. “If you’re not back here in the next twenty-four hours, I’m sending reinforcements.”
The line dies, but I don’t care about my friend’s thinly veiled threat.
He doesn’t have to worry about my dick getting in the way of this assignment anymore.It’s over. This thing between Harper and me? Case fucking closed. I cannot believe I actually thought things changed between us.
I spilled my soul to that backstabbing little succubus, and she ran off anyway. She doesn’t give a single shit about me. No amount of extraordinary sex can change that. I read too much into her act of decency that night, years ago.
I wanted the encounter to mean something, but like she told me herself, it was no big deal. Anyone in her position would have done the same.
Humidity swallows me whole as I power walk down the sidewalk, eyes glued to the navigation on my phone directing me to Harper’s location.
Wait until I get my hands on her.
Like I’ve been thrown back in time into all the agony of these past two months, fury froths inside me, congealing with cold, hard concern. As anger-inducing as Harper is, the thought of the De Lucas snatching her infuriates me enough to torch an entire city. I’ve got to find her lying, manipulative, scheming, sexy little ass or fucking else.
I took out those two guys yesterday, but there are others. Plenty of them. Enzo De Luca is no gifted leader, but Matteo was. Before Finn put those bullets between his eyes, Matteo had the respect and allegiance of mafia families at home and abroad. All Enzo would have to do is appeal to those sympathetic to Matteo’s plight, and he could have feet on the ground doing his bidding in all fifty states.
Finn’s right to consider reinforcements.
Me coming here on my own was misguided. I see that now.
Should’ve known better.
Wherever Harper Brennan goes, trouble follows.
The navigation leads me to a strip mall. Colorful, square little shops face the street, their windows sparkling in the summer sun as pedestrians crowd the walkways. On one end sits a McDonald’s, on the other, a supermarket, a dry cleaner’s, cellphone stores… The navigation tells me Harper’s last known location was near a café off to one end of the street.
I jog in that direction, zigzagging around pedestrians with recycled shopping bags and small children.
When I find Harper, I don’t know what I’ll do.
But I do know that she’s going to pay for putting me through all this.