Page 26 of Arranged Obsession
He’s been breaking into my apartment and taking things.
And now I’m marrying his brother.
I don’t understand why. It makes absolutely no sense. I’ve never met Cormac before. We don’t even live in the same city.
His lips are close to mine as I tilt my head back to look into his eyes. Beautiful lips. Red and full. I wonder what they would taste like, if they’d bleed. If he’d mind if I bit him hard. If he’d bite me back, fist my hair, pull it roughly, make me gasp and scream. I want him to kiss me. Brutalize me. Destroy me.
My ghost.
My fucking ghost!
“Are you okay?” he asks, still clutching me much too hard.
“I think so. I’m just, uh—” I back away. I physically push against his ripped chest to make space. “I should leave you alone.”
He’s looking at me with a hungry stare again, but now it has a whole new level.
Seven years. Seven long years my ghost has been haunting me.
Now he’s standing in the flesh. Beautiful, enormous, physically imposing, and terrifying.
My ghost. My future brother-in-law.
Panic overwhelms me. I stagger backwards, head spinning. Cormac is beautiful, he’s terrifying, he’s a murderer and a monster, horrible even for my family’s already obscenely low standards?—
And he’smine.
“Stay safe,” he says softly, almost a pained whisper.
I turn around to run the hell away like a scared little girl, not even able to maintain a single shred of dignity.
Chapter 9
Cormac
Hazy cigarette smoke drifts through the air. An old bartender shoves another whiskey in front of me, but the liquor doesn’t seem to be doing much. I leave him a fat tip to keep them coming, though.
The place is empty. The floor is sticky with beer and puke. Nobody knows me here, and nobody would bother me if they did.
Not with the way I’m looking right now.
Like I want to burn the fucking world.
It’s Friday night, and all I can think about is my feather. Her lips, her laughter, the naked fear in her eyes mixing with the dripping lust. How beautiful she felt for those brief seconds in my hands. The smell of her. The tension between us.
I fucked up bad going to Philadelphia.
A part of me had hoped that seeing her around Finn would somehow banish these sick thoughts. Maybe seeing my feather around a good man, knowing she’d be taken care of, knowingshe’d have a decent life, I thought maybe that would somehow quench the sickening burn in my heart.
Instead, it only ruined me more.
Now the flames are twice as hot. The idea of her with another man kills me. I could rip my fucking hair out from the roots. I could slice my arms to ribbons with a rusty blade. And still none of that would hurt nearly as much as the thought of her in my brother’s arms.
Sleeping in his bed.
Carrying hisfuckingchildren.
I throw back the whiskey, grunting at the cheap burn, teeth gritted together in frustration. The bartender pours another. The old guy must know I’m dangerous because he skitters away like a bunny in front of a starving lion.
