Page 54 of Crown of Smoke

"You're impossible, you know that?" But I don’t push him away. "Every time I try to get to know you, you…"

His breath blows on my nipple, making it ache. "I what?"

"You do that." I fight to keep my thoughts coherent as his touch sends shivers through me. "Use physical attraction to distract me."

"Is it working?" His voice drops lower, rougher, and heat pools in my belly.

"Yes," I admit, frustration warring with desire. "But that doesn't make it fair."

Flynn rolls us suddenly, pinning me beneath him. His weight feels delicious, and I can't help arching up against him. His lips brush my neck, and rational thought starts slipping away.

"Life isn't fair, Lucy." He nips at my pulse point, making me gasp. "But this…" His hand slides under my back and holds me close. "This is real."

I want to argue, to demand the answers he keeps dancing around. But then his mouth finds mine, and the kiss is so passionate, so consuming, that I forget what I was going to say. My fingers tangle in his hair as he deepens the kiss, and I lose myself in the physical connection we share.

I melt into Flynn's touch. "You drive me crazy," I whisper against his lips, torn between desire and frustration.

“Let me help you with that.”

Our bodies move together with increasing urgency. Flynn's hands seem to know exactly where to touch, how to make me gasp and shiver. I lose myself in the sensation, in the safety of his arms, in the way he makes everything else disappear. We come together, our cries of release echoing through my room.

After, I curl against his chest, spent and satisfied, again. His heartbeat thuds steadily beneath my ear. Sleep tugs at my consciousness, but my mind won't fully let go. Flynn's steady breathing beside me should be soothing, yet questions swirl through my foggy thoughts. The way he tensed when I mentioned family. His careful deflections. The darkness that crosses his face at certain topics. Even his protectiveness feels deeper than it should for someone I've known for such a short time.

My journalist's instincts whisper that there's more to Flynn than he's showing me.I will figure you out, I think but don’t say. Whatever he’s hiding, whoever he really is, I’ll find out.

But even as the inquisitive side of me commits to learning his secrets, another part of me feels guilt. I should respect his need for privacy. We haven’t been at this very long. Perhaps he just needs time.

Except, I can’t help but feel what he’s hiding isn’t about feeling safe enough to tell me. It feels like a secret he never plans to reveal.

As consciousness slips away, I make a silent promise to myself. I'll uncover the truth about Flynn Tine, about his connection to my investigation, about everything he's keeping from me. Not because I want to expose him, but because I'm falling for him and I need to know who he is. I just hope when I learn the truth, it doesn’t change who I know him to be. That it doesn’t ruin everything.

20

FLINT

Iwake early the next morning and watch Lucy sleep beside me, her golden hair spread across the pillow. Guilt feels like an anvil on my chest. The lie about who I am grows heavier each day.

She deserves to know who I really am. Not Flynn Tine, the undercover cop she believes me to be, but Flint Ifrinn, son of the family the Keans destroyed. The very family she's investigating without realizing I'm at the center of it all.

My fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, and she stirs slightly but doesn't wake. Every time she mentions my family's name in her research, it's like a knife in the gut. The way she talks about the Ifrinns, lumping us in with the Keans as just another crime family, makes me want to shake her, to tell her we were nothing like them. We had honor. We protected people.

Okay, so maybe we weren’t so squeaky clean. But we didn’t assault women. We didn’t kill for the thrill of it. Perhaps from her point of view, it doesn’t matter. But to me, there’s a big difference.

That’s the problem. She won’t see the difference between me and the Keans. And even if she did, she might not get past the lies. Lucy values truth above all else. It's what drives her journalism, this relentless pursuit of facts. When she discovers I've been lying since the moment we met, will she ever trust me again? Will she see that everything else, my protection, my feelings for her, have been real? So real that it’s shifted my priorities. Not that I don’t want my revenge on the Keans because I do. But now my world doesn’t have just one, singular focus. For the first time, I can see what my life might look like once the Keans are dead and gone. The sooner that happens, the better. The sooner I can build on what I’ve started with Lucy.

I can almost taste it now, the moment when Hampton Kean realizes who's destroying his empire. When his precious son Ronan watches everything crumble. When Marshall pays for covering up my parents’ murder.

The betrayer who let the Keans into our home that night is still out there, but when I find out who they are, death will be too kind.

My brothers and I swore an oath on our parents' memory. The Keans thought they killed the Ifrinn family that night, but they just created something far more dangerous. Four sons with nothing left to lose. Now we have resources, and most importantly, they don't see us coming.

As much as I’d like to lie in bed and use up the remaining few condoms I have left with Lucy, I have work to do. Work that will complete my mission but also open the way for me to be fully present with Lucy. If she’ll have me.

I slip from bed.

“What time is it?” she asks sleepily.

“Early. Stay in bed.” I lean over and kiss her temple. “I’ll call you later.”

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