Chapter twenty-seven
Russell’s Penthouse, The Level
Samantha
“Connor was really pissed at you earlier,” Russell says as we sit on his sofa watching nothing in particular.
When we arrived back at The Level at seven in the morning, everyone was too wired to sleep.
Connor has an early case today, so he went back to his apartment to freshen up and head into the office early. He’s due in court in a matter of hours.
Russell and I came up here to relax. It’s been blissful wrapped around him, chatting about nothing important. We’ve covered everything from our latest favorite television series to the type of music we like.
“Why?” I ask him, surprised that it was Connor who was annoyed. “You’re the psycho control freak. I would have expected it to be you losing your cool.”
He chuckles, then places warm lips on my forehead.
“I have no concerns regarding your ability to keep yourself alive. I would even go as far as to say I trust you to keep my sister on this earth, too. Though she can be a bit ditsy.”
His grip tightens on my shoulders. “Not many women would be able to knee a mafia boss in the nuts and live to tell the tale.”
“You know about that?” I stammer, warmth coating my cheeks.
No doubt they’ll have turned tomato-red.
That early morning altercation has run through my mind more times than I care to admit, the feeling of being both proud of standing up for myself but also idiotic for taking such a risk with a man like Hunter.
He could end my life in a heartbeat if he wanted to.
“Hell yes,” he replies, his face beaming. “I wish I’d been there to see it. Hunter Devane being brought to his knees in the middle of a parking garage by a nurse.”
“It was epic,” I agree. “But perhaps not my best moment.”
“You impressed Damon and Greyson. They couldn’t believe he let you walk away.”
He takes a breath, his chest rising and falling before he speaks.
“However, I must admit that you impress me every time I see you. You really are remarkable, Trouble.”
His lips drop to mine, and he kisses me gently.
The gesture is slow and intimate; it’s everything a kiss between two people who care about each other should be.
I turn toward him, then wince with the pain from my new piercing. “Are you sore?” he asks softly.
“A little.” His hand comes to my cheek, and we kiss again, this time deeper, our tongues dancing together as we enjoy the connection.
“You be careful with her,” he whispers. “I want my pussy in perfect condition when I get this damn thing off this leg.”
The word “my” causes every ounce of independence to evaporate from my body.
These men wanting me, loving me even, feels so fucking good.
“We can do other things before then,” I tell him. Partly for him but mostly for me. Not being able to investigate the sexual part of our relationship is beyond frustrating. My need for him to touch me is growing by the minute. “You having a cast doesn’t need to stop us having sex.”
“No, Trouble, I’ve thought about this. When I get to take you for the first time, I want to be in full working order. No restrictions. It’s a matter of weeks. I’ve been patient and won’t allow my enthusiasm to ruin what we’ve been waiting for.”
“I’m not sure I can wait.” My words are needy leaving my mouth.
I twist a little more up onto my knees to face him.
His strong fingers move to my hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling my lips to his once more.
“We’ve been wanting this since…” I don’t complete the sentence, unsure when our relationship morphed from a distant yearning to the all-consuming need we have now.
“Since that night I picked you up from work and didn’t bring you straight home. Also the night you told me to stop contacting you.”
My gaze moves over his shoulder. I focus on a painting on the far wall of the room.
It’s an image, almost erotic, of two people in a passionate embrace.
Painted in muted tones, it’s hard to decide whether they’re clothed or not.
“It’s okay,” he consoles. “I know why you did.”
“I was trying to do the right thing. I never wanted to hurt Connor.”
“Neither did I, but sometimes two people can’t be kept apart. And I think you agree with me that this feels so damn right for us.”
He tugs at the strand of hair that hangs loosely by my cheek and twists it around his finger.
His thumb strokes the soft surface, pulling gently then releasing the curl.
“Do you agree, Trouble? This feels right.”
“Yes,” I admit. “Yes, it does, but…” I stop speaking again, uncertain whether to tell him what I want to. The truth that could be the end of my time with both brothers.
“But what?” he prompts. His eyes are soft, softer than I’ve ever seen them. The edges of the lips that have kissed me gently and whispered encouragingly tonight turn up once more.
“When I’m with Connor,” I say, before taking a steadying breath. “It feels right too.”
“I would hope so,” he replies, surprising me with his lack of jealousy. He chuckles before explaining. “You’re not a woman to waste people’s time, Trouble. You’re direct, honest, and independent. I don’t see you keeping one of us around to massage your ego.”
“I would never do that!”
“I know. That’s why Connor and I trust you to explore what’s on offer and make the best decision for you. For everyone. Who you see yourself creating a life with.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I whisper, my voice pained as my gaze drops to my fingers, which are twisting together nervously. “That was never my intention.”
“No, but that outcome is inevitable. Because I tell you now, neither my brother nor I are willing to give you up without a fight. As far as I’m concerned, Trouble, you’re already mine.”
He places one strong finger beneath my chin, forcing my eyes upwards and back to his.
“I won’t give you up, Trouble. What we have is forever, whether you know that now or not. In time, you’ll come to realize that you’ve always been mine. From the first minute I laid eyes on you in the boardroom last September, there was no doubt we would end up here.”
“I never wanted to see you again,” I tell him, and he smiles. “You were an arsehole.”
“But you couldn’t resist once I unleashed my relentless charm.”
“Something like that.” I roll my eyes dramatically, and his hand snaps to my face. He squeezes my cheeks between strong fingers. We stare at one another, the brewing sexual tension we’ve been trying to ignore heightening again. He grins, his eyes bright and full of life.
“Do you know the best thing about your new addition, Trouble?” I give him a curious look, confused by his change of direction. “Your new jewelry,” he confirms.
“I have no idea what is going to come out of that gorgeous mouth of yours,” I murmur, my face still held fast in his hand. He smiles again. Fuck, he’s beautiful when he smiles.
On first meeting Russell and over the following months, I doubted he ever smiled, but now it seems a much more regular occurrence, and I love the fact they’re aimed at me.
“You and I will be healing simultaneously and back to full working order together.”
He pulls me closer, his warm breath tickles my lips as he talks.
“And I promise you this, Trouble. When I do fuck you, you will never forget it. It will remain in your memories forever. Part of me will be with you until the end of time. You’ll be marked as mine.”
***
Connor’s Apartment
My phone buzzed at one in the afternoon when Connor let me know he was on his way home from the office. Russell had fallen asleep on the sofa, and I took the opportunity to leave without any objection.
Once I extricated myself from his arms, I found a light blanket stored in a hallway cupboard.
I pulled the fine material over his large frame as he snored gently, lost in whatever dream he was having.
Every so often, long eyelashes fluttered as if he was going to wake before falling back into a steady comfortable rhythm of sleep.
Now, I’m sitting in Connor’s apartment, waiting for his return. The transition from one man’s house to the other’s was strangely comfortable. It didn’t feel odd moving between them. They’re both important to my sanity. My happiness.
With my legs curled beneath me, I’m pretending to read a Stephen King novel I found on his shelves.
It’s the one I’ve seen forever about the deadly clown, though I’ve never read the book or watched the movie.
The small snippets I’ve consumed were enough to tell me I would hate the horror it offered.
The idea that something otherworldly is out there waiting to hurt people is unsettling.
I’ve seen enough evil in the real world to do me a lifetime.
The front door opens, and Connor appears.
He’s dressed in a smart gray suit with a fine black checked pattern.
His jacket is open, exposing the crisp white shirt beneath.
He pulls the hem from the waistband of his trousers as he walks toward me, then unbuttons two more buttons at his chest.
I lay the book open on the sofa beside me, face up.
“Hey,” he says before bending to kiss me. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too.” I reach up and ruffle his perfectly styled hair. He closes his eyes momentarily under my touch then takes my wrist, turns it slowly, and places his lips on my skin.
“I’ve missed you more,” he whispers. “Are you enjoying the book?” His focus moves to the literature I was pretending to read, lying disposed of.
“It’s okay, a bit tame for me.” He smiles naughtily. “But I wanted to see why you thought it was so good, why you own every book this man has written in multiple copies.” To one side of the living area is a huge bookcase filled with Connor’s favorite reading material.
“Because he’s a legend,” he tells me. “ And I like to collect legendary items.” He raises an eyebrow, then smirks. “Both living and inanimate. I’m extremely pleased with the latest addition to my collection of favorite things.”
“And what would that be?”
“You.” I laugh out loud. “I think I know what the problem is and perhaps why you can’t appreciate the words of Mr. King as much as I do.”
I narrow my eyes, and his glint with mischief.
He’s going to tease me, it’s as clear as day on his face.
“It’s hard to read a book when it’s upside down.”