35. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Pulling the mask off my face, my fingernail catches my cheek. “Aw, fuck.”
I check the mirror, but it’s dark as fuck out here.
My pulse throbs so thick in my neck, I can barely swallow. Holy fucking shit…
WHAT WAS THAT?
I want to scream, but know I’ll be so loud, she’ll fucking hear me even with two car lengths between us and both our windows closed.
She went at me toe-to-toe. Gave me as good as she got. And wanted more. No matter how I pushed her, she didn’t back down.
Now I’m on fire even more for her. She can handle how brutal I get. Not that I completely opened the kimono. No pun.
I wanted this shit with Johnny to be one and done. Scare the crap out of her and teach her a lesson to play games. Crawl back to me. Not that I’m any tamer, but I’m safe.
Fuck, this risk she’s taking, showing how strong she is sends my lust to DefCon1: Nuclear fucking War.
With every breath, my body tenses from the memory burned into my brain of her on the ground, naked, begging for my cock in her arse.
I only stopped because I couldn’t bear to hear her yell Johnny’s name. No, he’s not fucking her in the arse. I am. If it’s the last damn thing I do on this shitty earth.
God, the way Jillian clawed at me, dug into my skin, our bodies lined up again. Her sharp breaths signaled how scared I made her, but she wanted more. Wanted to push me.
No one pushes me!
This one is different and that makes everything so much more real.
And dangerous.
My ire and anger burn with this slice down my cheek as I follow her home. I only drove away so she wouldn’t get it into her head that Johnny cares for her. But I also needed to make sure she got home safe.
She’s fucking mine.
Christ, I can’t even fathom sharing her with a stranger, who is me. That shows how far off the rails I am about this bird.
This lass. This woman.
My woman. My jaw clenches so tight, it could break from the stress storming through every cell of my body.
When my hands ache from squeezing my fists so tight, I realize I’m holding the panties I tore off her body. Fuck, a trophy. Shaking, I bring them to my face and inhale deeply.
Fuuuuck.
In the parking garage at the Charter Hotel, I call the rental company to pick up the BMW. I leave the keys under the mat. I can’t sit and wait. I’m too wired.
Strung out.
I thought sex with Jillian would calm me, but now it is fucking on. I have to get her into my bed.
I never even came. My cock is throbbing in these stupid tight jeans. It’s hard as steel and I’m one step away from grabbing my car and showing up at her condo.
I left her wanting more. She’ll use me. Not battery-less Rocco.
Sex with Jillian the first time set off a time bomb, but I knew she’d never let me touch her again.
Now, all I see is more fucking in our future. And in the dirtiest, kinkiest ways. A way she won’t feel like she’s betraying an oath she made to lady justice.
In the bathroom, the scratch on my cheek halts me. I can’t show up now. She’ll ask me what happened, and I’ll break. Tell her what I did.
With my vision compromised from all the reckless thoughts, I run the cold water in the shower and step under it.
I have to calm down and force myself to take deep breaths under the blast of icy water.
Why should I care what that scratch on my face looks like, when Lachlan got seventy stitches under his eye and women still lined up to fuck him. Until he decided to steal a Bratva princess bringing us to the brink of war.
My brothers and I have come far in the last two years. Ten years ago, we raised hell in the streets before my da retired and passed the crown to Kieran.
Now Kieran’s a dad. I guess it’s in our O’Rourke blood to breed. The image of Jillian pregnant with my wee-one inside sends my erection into a tailspin as I come all over the shower tile without me even touching myself.
What the hell?
I’m in so much trouble. But one thing is true, she is mine. One way or another, I will have her. In every way.
No. Matter. What.