Page 30 of Devour

Maeve is running over to inform Tristan now of our little incident. Not that I suspect Mark needs a reason to kill me, but his partners have somewhat of a moral compass, even if it doesn’t exactly point true north. I’m still struggling to understand why she’s even upset with me. I find it hard to believe that Maeve Goodman is close to her cousins yet not accustomed to violence. She’s actually horrified I broke some creep’s neck. Again, I’m being punished for being a “nice” guy. She’s seriously angry that I defended her and prevented her from being drugged. Why? I’m beginning to be concerned about what her definition of nice is. I’ve turned into a fucking saint for her yet at every turn she’s pissed at me.

Another reason to let her go.

She’s making me alter, and even question, my behavior. Yet I can’t walk away. She must feel my eyes on her. Her body spins around and I meet her scowl. I hate how I’m already getting hard again. No. I won’t allow her to affect me this way. This was all a means to an end. Seducing women has always come easy for me. The plan was simple, get on her good side and it’ll give me sway with her family.

Or it should’ve been. But there’s no getting on Maeve’s good side. Does she have one? I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours doing shit for her. It hasn’t exactly been torture for me, especially since she enjoys rough sex. I never thought I’d mind being used for pleasure, but she doesn’t seem to want to be around me unless it’s for that. Suddenly, I feel cheap. I feel used.

God, I need help.

Tristan guides Maeve over to her eccentric grandmother and discards her there before walking toward me. No matter what hehas to say, I’ve kept up my end of the deal. Tristan Goodman is indebted to me. That was the goal all along.

“Deschamps,” he addresses me.

I lift my tumbler up an inch. “Congratulations. Many years of good fortune to your brother and his lovely bride.”

“Skip the pleasantries. I’m grateful you killed that piece of shit, but you didn’t have to do it in front of her.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. My voice lacks any sincerity. “My apologies for not going even more out of my way on behalf of your cousin. You all being here has become quite the inconvenience.”

“I will speak to her about being more careful. Unfortunately, she’s been sheltered.”

Clearly she’s been kept far away from any of their businesses. She’s innocent. So why does that excite me even more. I shove down the urge to yank Maeve back to my side and glue her there. Tristan’s eyes narrow on me. A grin stretches across my face. My voice turns taunting. “Lucky for you I was there each time.”

Tristan’s lips press into a thin line. “You can stay away from her now.” He extends a hand. “Good luck with your casino.”

I accept his handshake. “I’m glad we’ll be allies.”

He doesn’t say anything but does give me a snarl before he walks away. I should take my leave. I’m halfway to the door when a body blocks my path. “Care to give this ole’ gal a spin around the dance floor?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a wuss.”

“Are you trying to shame me into dancing?” This must be where Maeve gets her smart mouth. Right on cue a slow love song from the fifties or sixties begins.

“Get your pretty ass out there.” She pulls my hand with surprising strength. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a dancing partner with some stamina.”

Who am I to deny the lovely lady a good dance? “Very well, you old bird. Let me know if I overexert you.” I spin her to face me. I take one hand and extend it while placing my other hand on her frail hip.

She chuckles and gives me a devious look. “You might be young, but you still couldn’t keep up with me.”

“You’re feisty. I see where your granddaughter gets her charm.”

“Little Bit is precious. You already know that, though. Oh look – there she is.”

I hadn’t even realized she’d maneuvered us toward her granddaughter. Maeve is sitting with her back to us. The elderly lady grabs Maeve’s arm and hoists her up, thrusting her into my arms.

“Gram!”

“No use arguing with her,” I grumble. She feels perfect in my arms. The disgust on her face angers me. Our chemistry is undeniable yet she insists on treating me like I’m repulsive. “What’s a dance after what you’ve already had me do to your body?”

“What I hadyoudo?”

“Are you going to say you didn’t force me to fuck you?”

“Force?” Her hands tighten on me. “Wow. Kind of like how you bulldozed me into giving you an audience with my cousins?”

“Seems like we’re not so different.”

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