Page 75 of F*ckboys

Somehow I'll find the truth. About Link, about Rayner, about all the secrets threatening to destroy this family. I won't stop until justice is served. Until finally I feel whole and part of something. If I need to destroy other people in the process, so be it. The Dempsey family web is stretched thinner than ever, ready to rupture. But I won't be the one left dangling when it breaks.

My hands ache from clenching the armrest. I force myself to relax and take a deep breath. Getting worked up over Link will accomplish nothing right now. I need to be smart if I'm going to uncover the truth. All I know is, whatever his endgame is, I'll be ready. My days of being a pawn in his schemes are over. Now it's time to turn the tables, before his darkness consumes everything I care about.

I'm through playing defense. If it's a war Link wants, then it's war he'll get.

Chapter 42

Aksel

Fallon looks like sin in heels when she steps through my door, all long legs and fire under those ocean eyes. She's wearing a short skirt that barely covers her butt, and a crop top that reveals a tantalizing hint of her stomach and lower back. I'm still thrilled and shocked that she accepted my invitation to come over for dinner. I'd figured there was a ninety percent chance she would decline, and an even higher chance she'd get last-minute cold feet. But here she is, looking like temptation itself.

The scent of roast chicken and garlic bread wafts around us as a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "Trying to convince me to fall for you with food, Aksel?"

"Just giving you a taste of the good life." I pause, and then admit the obvious. "I didn't make it myself. Trust me, it's better that way."

She smirks, and then her gaze drifts over the table, the wine, the candles. There's a story there, behind those eyes, but I don't push.

We sink into easy conversation over the meal, trading jokes and stories. For a while it's like we're the only two people in the world. Like nothing else matters but her smile, her laugh.

When silence falls it's comfortable. Familiar. She leans back in her chair, studying me. "You always know how to make a girl feel special."

Heat flares in my gut at the raw vulnerability in her tone. I reach across the table and lace my fingers through hers. "You deserve to feel special every damn day, Fallon."

Her breath catches and for a second I think she might cry. Then she's rounding the table, sliding onto my lap, and kissing me like her life depends on it.

My hands find her hips, and I grip her tight enough to leave bruises as she grinds against me. The world narrows to the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against mine.

After a heady make-out session, she returns to her seat and smiles at me from across the table, her lipstick and eyeliner slightly smudged, and her hair mussed, in a way that makes me want to rip her clothes off and take her right there, tonight's hired waitstaff be damned.

Tonight I'm going to show her just how special she is. And if by the end of it she's too wrecked to stand, I'll consider it a job well done.

Because a woman like Fallon Dempsey deserves to be worshiped. And I plan on spending all night on my knees.

For dessert, the private chef appears with a pavlova, Fallon's ultimate weakness. I've hit the sweet spot, and Fallon's momentarily distracted from whatever's got her in a twist.

The chef sets the dessert down with a flourish, presenting it like a work of art. Meringue nests filled with fresh fruit and slightly sweetened whipped cream, and dolloped with the sour and sweet tang of passionfruit pulp.

Fallon's eyes go wide, a smile lighting up her face. "You remembered."

"How could I forget?" I pour two glasses of moscato, and hand one to her. "To new beginnings… to this..."

Her smile deepens into something tender that makes my chest ache. She clinks her glass against mine. "To this..."

We dive in, Fallon closing her eyes on the first bite, a soft sound of pleasure escaping her. Watching her enjoy it is almost better than eating it myself.

Almost.

The sweet-tart burst of berries and passionfruit, the crunchy outside and fluffy inside of the meringue, melts on my tongue. But nothing compares to the warmth in my chest seeing that look of bliss on Fallon's face.

After dessert, I suggest we switch gears. I top off our glasses and take Fallon's hand. "Come on."

She follows without question as I lead her over to the lounge area, dimly lit and cozy. A fire crackles in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the space. The vibe is just perfect, and the connection between us goes from electric to magnetic.

"This is nice." She settles into the cushions, tucking her feet under her.

"I thought you might want to relax and unwind." I sit beside her, close enough that our thighs touch.

Her smile is soft, a little sad. She stares into the fire, the flames dancing in her eyes. "You always know just what I need."

---