Page 8 of Twisted Secrets
“I know you don’t like me much, sweetheart, but hiding behind the bar is a new low.”
Oh God. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Sure enough, Cillian was still there, peering over the bar at her, his dark eyes lightly mocking. Her body burned, the taste of him filtering through her memory as if it had been seconds since he’d kissed her, minutes since he was inside her, instead of a little less than twenty-four hours.
She shoved to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“Your customer service is seriously lacking.” He leaned back, his gaze skating over her in a move she could almost feel. It made her reconsider her clothing—a worn pair of perfectly faded shorts over black tights, her spiked knee-high combat boots, and her favorite white T-shirt—which only served to irritate the hell out of her. She’d been comfortable when she left the house, and now she wasn’t. The fact that he didn’t have to say a single thing to make her skin heat just aggravated her further.
She crossed her arms over her chest.First Sergei, and now this. It wasn’t fair to compare the two, but she wasn’t feeling particularly fair right now. She was feeling cornered. “You’re in my bar.”
His eyebrows rose. “I was under the impressionthis was Benji’s bar.”
“It is.” She couldn’t tell if the heat pulsing beneath her skin was from embarrassment, or the fact that he’d left a few buttons undone on his perfectly pressed blue dress shirt and she could see that the tattoos on his neck extended south.How far south?
Why in the world had her hormones decided to wake up forthisguy? She’d been doing just fine on her own—with regular assists from her buzzy toy BOB. Her life had been going okay until yesterday and, sure, she had so much pent-up desire that she’d been the one to jump him after that initial kiss, but that didn’t change the fact that O’Malley’s presence here now heralded all sorts of trouble for her. Last night she’d let herself get out of control and then, less than an hour later, Sergei had been on her doorstep. Blaming that on Cillian didn’t make the slightest bit of sense, but she couldn’t help linking up the two in her head. Both were bad news. She wanted no part of their family entanglements.
If Dmitri found out you were even talking to him, let alone that you had sex with him…
The thought was like a bucket of cold water on her wild desire. This guy was nothing but complicated, and her life was too complicated as it was. When she spoke, she managed to sound halfway normal. “Apple juice?”
“You remember. I’m touched.”
She busied herself getting a glass and ice and the juice, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He’d looked rough last night, but tonight he looked absolutely haggard—while still being unbearably hot. Hell, whatever burden he seemed to carry around only made him more attractive. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense. She’d never had a thing for the dark and brooding types before, and she wasn’t aboutto start now.
Even if a part of her did wonder what put that lost look on his face when he didn’t think anyone else could see.
She slid the apple juice across the bar to him. “Last night was a onetime thing.”
“You said that already.”
She had, hadn’t she? There was that damn heat again, pushing against the inside of her skin in a way sheknewhe could see. “All the same, I don’t know why you’re back here, but you’re not getting a repeat.”
“I didn’t ask for one.”
If embarrassment could kill a person, she would have turned to ash on the spot. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. Why had she assumed he’d want to hook up again? He might have said as much afterward, but guys were known for saying things they didn’t mean before, during, and after sex. She should have known he wasn’t interested. For fuck’s sake,shehad practically strong-armed him into going there with her. He probably thought she was…She didn’t even know, but definitely not a woman he wanted to spend more time with.
Which is exactly what you want.
“Right. Of course.” She grabbed a rag and started wiping down the bar, hating how tangled up she felt inside. Twenty-four hours ago she’d had a clear picture of what she wanted and how she was going to get it. There had been no distractions, and her past was firmly in the rearview. Now everything had changed and she felt like the world was shifting beneath her feet.
“I do, though.” He tilted his glass, watching the liquid move in the low light.
She blinked. “What?”
“I want a repeat—preferably somewherea little less public.” He looked up and pinned her in place with his gaze. “Somewhere I can take my time, until you come so many times you lose count.”
The world stopped spinning so suddenly, she had to grip the bar to keep from keeling over. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, no matter how hard she tried, but she wasn’t even sure she was trying at all. She wasn’t sure of much of anything except that Cillian could do exactly what he was promising. He’d more than proven that last night.
Why the hell couldn’t someone else show up and demand drinks? At least then she’d have a legit excuse to end this conversation in a way that didn’t look like she was running away—even if that’s exactly what she would have been doing. “No.”
“Why not?” He asked the question like he already knew the answer.
“Because, frankly, it wasn’t that good.”Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Funny that you say that, because it sure as fuck felt like you were having a good time. Especially when you made that little moaning sound when I—”
“Shut up.” She looked around, but Benji was on the other side of the bar, chatting with the businessmen, and there was no one else close enough to hear his low words.Thank God. But she couldn’t keep scrubbing at the bar and pretending that she was busy while he was talking like this. She had to lay things out for him, and hopefully he’d take a hint. Olivia straightened and made herself look him in the eyes.
He’s seriously wounded.
