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Men like that created chaos and then walked away unscathed, leaving the people around them floundering in their wake.
I’d rather rule in hell than serve in heaven.
“You don’t have the sense God gave a toddler.” He wouldn’t know. He didn’t exactly spend a lot of time around kids since he’d stopped being one himself. He tried to picture a toddler and came up with a grubby little Tasmanian Devil. “I think you just insulted me.”
There was an old legend in a book that she’d read about as a kid that said if you saved another person’s life, you became responsible for it. She’d found the idea tragically romantic as a little girl. Now? Now she was starting to think it was a giant pain in the ass.
She’d never been kissed like this, like she was something to be savored…valued. Like he had all the time in the world and he’d still never get enough.
“And even if it wasn’t…A few hours ago you were telling me that this wasn’t what you want. When you change your mind for good—and you will—I want you to know you’re not just coming down from an adrenaline high. You want me as much as I want you. It’s not circumstantial.”
Why not take your happiness where you can find it, even if it’s not forever?”
“It’s not like saying her name three times is going to bring her crashing through the wall like the Kool-Aid Man.”
“Benji, you’re an awful friend. The first rule of being a wingman is that you don’t warn the beautiful woman away from me.”
“This is blackmail.” “No, sweetheart. This is respect. I want more than sex, and I don’t know how to prove that to you other than saying no.”
“Sweetheart, there is no one like me.”
“I know what nothing looks like, and that’s not it.” He tipped up her chin. “Tell me, Olivia.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not easy.” His brows dipped in a frown. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing what you want and going for it—whether it’s sex, money, or something else.”
“The person who shot you?” “Dead.” “Good.”
He didn’t want to. Fuck, it hurt just thinking about it—a whole lot more than he would have expected. He’d do it, though. For her, he was starting to realize that he’d do damn near anything.
He was too busy running his empire and raising Dmitri to be everyone’s favorite sociopath.
It didn’t matter what kind of crisis showed up, they were expected to keep functioning as if the world wasn’t falling apart around them.
In a world filled with untrustworthy and downright murderous men, Cillian stood apart as a shining star of virtue.
“I’ve got you.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t need to be a damn hero for anyone. I can be a cold bastard sometimes, but if you missed the fact that I care about your contrary ass, you’re being intentionally thick.”
There was some advice he’d read once that showing fear to either young children or wild animals was a recipe for disaster, so he just charged right in.
She might be in charge, but it was only because he allowed it. The
“You don’t want to leave. You want to be kept as much as I want to keep you.” He thrust into her, using his free hand to stroke her clit. “Which is a good goddamn thing, Olivia, because I’m never letting you go.”
