Page 103 of Dirty Eoin

When I messaged earlier, I could tell from his underlying tone that he wanted to see me. Not just for fucking, but to spend time together like we’re a regular couple.

But we’re not. We’re a pair of cold-blooded murderers.

I know he wants us to spend the night together. That he has done for some time. That he wants us to take things to the next level.

Spend the night together.

Move in together.

Play happy families together.

Live the happily ever after together.

If only he knew my plan. He will do soon enough.

He’s never asked why I’ve never invited him to stay over, and he’s way too proud to have invited himself. I don’t think he’s ever spent the night with any female.

Not even Molly.

I think his whole life it really has been a case of ‘wham bam thank you, ma'am’. That he’s always been way too selfish to ever share any part of himself. That he’s always just taken what he wanted then left once he’s had his fill before moving on to his next willing victim.

Until now. Until me.

Our relationship has evolved into something way beyond physical. It’s what I wanted, and even though we’ve reached this stage more slowly than I thought we would, it still feels like we’ve reached it way too soon.

Because the tables have turned. It’s now me who wants to have my cake and eat it. That I’m the one being the glutton. I’m trying to cram as much of Eoin O’Connell in as I can.

My plan will come to fruition imminently because he’s getting impatient that our relationship isn’t moving forward quickly enough, and there’s only one reason for that.

The signs are all there.

In this outlaw game of chess that he’s insisted on playing, I’m about to say one word.

Checkmate.

And five short months of intense intimacy doesn’t feel anywhere near long enough. Not after two years’ worth of push and pull foreplay. My plan now comes with a guaranteed blowback, and I guess I deserve nothing less. Two wrongs don’t make a right. I never realized how true that was until now, but it’s way too late to back out.

I knock on the grey door. He’ll have security. He’ll know it’s me, as will his brother. Dylan has surveillance on all the Duster properties, including their own private homes. Can he see me standing outside Eoin’s apartment? Will his big brother appreciate me turning up at his home unannounced? I guess I’m about to find out.

The door opens.

He’s shirtless, and he’s obviously just showered as his hair is mussed and wet.

This dark lord is truly fucking breathtaking.

My eyes drift over the map of ink he wears on a lean chiseled torso that’s on full and welcome display. They then sink lower to take in the pair of grey sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his slim hips, deliberately positioned to show off the start of the toned V that instantly captures your attention then drags your gaze downward. The material is doing nothing at all to disguise the sheer size of the appendage that lurks just underneath.

“Jaine.”

He raises one eyebrow, a small smile tugging on his lips at my blatant ogling.

Did he expect me?

If the visual I’ve been greeted with is because he didn’t, then I’m fucking glad I turned up unannounced. I’ve never seen him this dressed down before. Dressed down looks good on him.

Too fucking good.

Let’s be honest, nothing would ever not look good on Eoin O’Connell. He really is one hot as fuck mobster.

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