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“Good girl,” he says softly before he stands upright again.
“Why? Do you think I’m weak?” “Weak? No. You are titanium. But I would die if anything happened to you.”
“But, you are Jessica Ivanov. You are the Bratva,” he replies, as though he’s unable to comprehend why I wouldn’t want this. “Jessica Ivanov died ten years ago. My name is Jessie Ryan.”
“Don’t cry, baby. I hate it when you cry. And I’m the happiest man in the world right now,” he smiles before he drifts back into unconsciousness.
“You have this incredible, strong, kind, sexy woman who fucking adores you and you’re letting her slip away from you because of some stupid rule you have about not giving people second chances. And I know that you love her too, Shane. I see the way you can’t take your fucking eyes off her. So, if you want to die on this you only get one chance with me hill, then be my guest. It’s one less person I have to share her with,” he says as the doors open and he walks out, leaving me to stare after him, wondering if he has a point.
I can’t think straight at all, but he grabs my wrists and pins them against the wall either side of my head and glares into my eyes, as though he is trying to peer inside my soul.
“Good girl,”
“Don’t ever apologize for coming down here,” he growls as he brushes the hair back from my face. “And don’t ever knock on my office door again and stand in the doorway like you don’t belong here.”
“Eyes on me, Hacker. You don’t get to come for me if you’re not looking at me.”
He licks his lip and stares at me for a few seconds before he speaks. “When you’re being fucked by my brother in a few minutes, remember that it was me who made you soaking wet for him.”
There is nothing any of them could do that would make me betray them, or Jessie. She has fit into our tight family unit so seamlessly and perfectly that I wonder how we lived without her. I fucking adore her, and my brothers do too. The fact that we are able to share her without any egos or jealousy getting in the way is a testament to our bond. Each of us ultimately wants what is best for the others,
“Ah, love," he says with a sigh. “It’s an incredible thing — even when it hurts like hell.”
“The only words I want to hear from you are, ‘oh. God. Fuck. Me. Shane.’ Any combination, in any order will do fine,” he winks at me
“Good. Because if I ever find out anyone else has touched you, I will skin him alive.”
He pulls back, and we stare at each other, panting for breath. “I think I just blacked out,” I breathe. “You only blacked out? I think my soul just left my body,” he pants, making me laugh.
He brushes my hair from my face. “I guess some people’s stories are only written in the sand. And some are written in the stars.”
“If you are, then please don’t. I want all of you, Shane.” “Even the dark parts?” he asks softly. “Especially those. I want every bit of you. The light and the shade.”
I sit on the sofa between Conor and Liam while Mikey hovers nervously near Shane’s desk as he watches his eldest brother pulling a bottle of Midleton, Chapter One, out of his bottom drawer. I swallow hard. That is a forty thousand dollar bottle of whiskey, the kind you drink on very special, or very sad occasions.
