Chapter 10
KIT
I slammed my hand against the wall of the shower, my skin prickling under the pressure of hot water pounding down on me.
I was naive.
For years, I’d believed my life was perfect.
I had a supportive father who cheered me on, a great brother exploring the country, and a crush on a hot-as-hell bodyguard with demons I could heal.
Except, none of it was real. Everything I’d known was a lie, including Skyler.
My younger brother had deceived me. Instead of calling to tell me the truth, he’d sent an anonymous text, sending me running in a panic I regretted.
He was no better than Dad. He was having an affair with an Italian mobster in St. Loren, and the mobster’s wife was possibly trying to kill me because of my connection to Sky.
The whole situation was a mess. Usually, I brushed off trouble and stayed focused on the positives and persevered, but not now.
Not when my entire world had been tipped on its head.
And War was defending my dad because, according to him, Dad saved him. I wanted to be furious at War for his feelings, but I couldn’t. Not when I had no idea what he’d been through. He was older than me, had been to a war zone, and probably lost friends and comrades.
What did I know? I lived outside Vert Island and went to college, forever babied by a dad who was apparently a smaller version of a mob boss—a fact I’d been oblivious to.
Damn it.
I slammed my hand against the shower tile, again.
We’d made it to the hotel, and I’d decided I needed to get clean.
War hadn’t stopped me. He had surveyed the room as if he’d find someone hiding behind the couch, and I’d let him.
I didn’t understand the world I lived in anymore. Maybe someone could be waiting for us.
The hot water pounded on my sore muscles, sending a wave of relaxation through my tense body.
The massage was exactly what I needed, and I reveled in the hammering pressure and burn against my skin.
If I could stay in the glass shower forever, I would, but there was no way to avoid War.
Or, eventually, Sky. This was my world now.
I was from a family of powerful criminals, and I was quite possibly in love with a murderer.
I was definitely more than healthily in lust with him.
I switched off the water and stepped out of the cubicle, the sudden absence of heat making my skin prickle.
Steam rose around me in thick, ghostly plumes, fogging the glass door and clinging to my damp hair.
The cooler air of the hotel room hit my wet skin like a shock, raising goose bumps along my arms and chest. I dried fast, the plush towel—Egyptian cotton, probably—absorbing the water and warmth from my body.
I wrapped the towel around my waist, tucking the edges firmly, and opened the bathroom door.
The temperature shift was immediate and stark.
The main room was climate-controlled, almost cold compared to the sauna I’d just left.
Mist curled out behind me as I stepped into the space, my skin already beginning to cool.
War was beside the window, sitting in one of the chairs at a small round table.
The room itself was beyond elegant, with crystal chandeliers casting fractured light across every surface, a thousand thread sheets on the bed that looked impossibly soft, and a fully stocked bar cart with artisanal spirits that cost a pretty penny, including an Irish whiskey collection that not even Dad drank because of the price.
Everything about this space told me that Arrigo Scalia had expensive tastes.
The late afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting everything in shades of amber and gold, and I could feel War’s presence before I even looked at him.
“No one trying to kill me in this room?” I padded toward the closet where I’d stashed my backpack.
Water from my hair dripped down my neck, leaving trails across my shoulders.
I was quickly running out of clothes, but the receptionist at this hotel assured us that we had free laundry and dry-cleaning services. Maybe I’d take them up on the offer.
War’s gaze met mine, an intense stare that burned so deep it reached for my soul.
The weight of his attention made my skin tighten.
I was hyperaware of every droplet of water still clinging to me and each inch of exposed flesh.
I wanted to stay angry at him, accuse him of lying and feeding my naivety in a world I thought I knew, but somehow, I understood him.
I respected him. He’d faced demons I could never imagine, and I had no right to judge him.
We hadn’t talked much since we’d met up with Sky, but he’d stood at my side, offering his support and protection. He’d never left the spot beside me, and I wouldn’t have felt safer with anyone else.
“I secured the space,” he said, voice low but stern.
War was always alert, even now, as he sat in the chair beside the window.
His spine remained ramrod straight, fingers splayed across his knees in a position I imagined must have been uncomfortable.
“You should sleep. You must be tired. You barely slept last night.”
I shrugged. “I don’t feel too bad.”
“Still, lie down.” His gaze strayed back to the window, and I grunted under my breath. I stood before him in nothing but a towel, and he’d barely looked at me. Disappointment weighed me down, and I glared at him.
I hooked my thumbs into the towel and pushed it, loosening the knot and letting the cotton pool around my feet.
My dick was half hard, resting against my thigh, but War kept his eyes on the view from the window.
Sunset was nearing, the afternoon rays glinting across the high-rises of St. Loren.
And while the city was pretty, my naked body was surely more interesting.
“War, look at me.” I raised my chin.
War exhaled loudly, the sound slicing through the space between us.
The sigh wasn’t resignation, but rather a preparation, as if he knew what he was about to find.
His jaw clenched tight, muscles working beneath his skin as he steeled himself.
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, charged with something dangerous and electric.
When he finally turned his head, his eyes were dark—pupils blown wide and irises nearly black—and the intensity of his gaze hit me like a physical force.
He studied every inch of my bare skin, from my toes to the tip of my head.
His gaze moved with methodical precision, cataloging every detail the way a navy SEAL would the sea he was about to dive into.
But this wasn’t analytical detachment—his breathing had gone shallow, his chest rising and falling in quick, controlled bursts.
He maintained a white-knuckled grip on the armrest of the chair.
He looked at me like I was an assignment he was trying to understand, but his body betrayed him with the slight tremor that began in his hands and the way his shoulders tensed beneath his shirt.
I’d never had a man stare at me like this, and I should’ve been insulted by the disciplined digestion of his gaze, but the opposite took me over instead.
Lust flooded my veins and assailed my senses.
Blood surged in my dick until I was fully hard and straining upward.
“Come here,” I said, surprised by myself.
I wasn’t the type to give orders, but something instinctive poured through me and took control.
War was a soldier, a man who listened to commands and followed orders, and maybe there was something in that.
Even after he finished his tours, he was a bodyguard to a boss who also gave him instructions. Did he enjoy it?
His pupils dilated further and he exhaled, his chest heaving with the movement.
He rose to his feet with the swiftness I imagined he used when he killed someone.
In three long strides, he was in front of me, his shoulders and width broad compared to mine.
And yet, he waited with the discipline expected of a navy man. I was in charge.
“I want you,” I told him, studying his facial expressions. I’d held myself back for too long. I was tired of being patient with War. My flirtations had been ignored, and since I knew the disregard had been because of my dad, I wasn’t going to hold back.
War didn’t belong to Dad, he was mine.
War swallowed, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his thick neck. “I know.”
“Do you want me too?” I laid my palm over his chest, above his shirt.
I wished I could feel his skin, but I was going to take my time, enjoying every second with him because who knew when it’d be the last. Someone, quite possibly Sky’s boyfriend’s wife, was trying to kill me.
I deserved to be happy while I had the chance.
“We can’t—”
“I didn’t ask you what we could and couldn’t do,” I said sharply, leaving no room for argument. Fuck. I sounded like Dad. “I asked if you wanted me, too. It’s a simple question and all you need to tell me is yes or no.”
His gaze dropped, taking in my naked body.
His stare was a physical caress, and I held back a shiver.
He cleared his throat, tongue swiping across his lips.
“Yes. But you have more choices now. You know the truth. Your dad and Leland stopped most of the guys showing interest in you. But you can have anyone. You don’t need me. I’m used goods.”
“Maybe.” I stroked his cheek, the hair at his jaw scratching my finger.
“But I don’t want anyone else, even if I have the choice.
I choose you. I want you.” I brushed my nose against his, our mouths so close that our breaths mingled.
I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, and his eyes slipped shut.
“Now, you’re going to kiss me, War, and you’re going to fuck me exactly the way I like it. Am I clear?”