KOEN
Now
After picking my little runaway up from the coffee shop, I gave her a ride two blocks over to the studio, only to shove her right into the back of Mac’s SUV, sending her back to her apartment to change. I would have taken her there myself, but it’s bloody cold out, and she’s not dressed to be on the bike in this weather.
While Briar got ready, I went to the loft to shower and change, putting on a dark suit before shooting back over to Briar’s apartment to pick her back up. I’m already on a time crunch, thanks to her little escapade this afternoon, but then she has the nerve to delay us even more, locking herself in the bathroom as soon as I arrive to “finish getting ready.”
I’ve tried pounding on the door several times. The inner battle I’ve been having with myself on whether or not to kick the goddamn thing down is getting harder to manage each time I hear “five more minutes!”
She’s making us late on purpose; Iknowshe is. She’s probably in there, sitting on the sink filing her nails or something. I bet she’s taking absolute delight in listening to theway my voice loses a little more control each time I pound on that door.
“Five more minutes!”
It was, in fact,notfive minutes.
The club we’re going to is owned by the Bratva, and, while I do need her to be presentable, I need her out of the goddamn bathroom. Jace’s wife, Cara, has been kind enough to help me pick out clothing for Briar, and thankfully, she was able to help again on such short notice.
But when she finally walks out of that bathroom, I don’t know whether to fire his wife, or give her a raise, because Briar steps out and everything just…stops.
I’m overwhelmed by the sudden urge to rush her and lift her up, those black boots wrapping around my waist while I take her on the bathroom counter. I want to ruin those perfect waves in her hair with my hands, smear that dark plum lipstick she’s wearing all up and down my cock while she kneels at my feet, looking up at me under those thick, dark lashes, all while taking me deep, before swallowing every last bit of my cum.
I step back when she passes me, not trusting myself to touch her. We’re already late, and if she so much as grazes up against me, we’re never leaving this apartment.
She’s dressed to kill in a black latex dress. The glossy material catches the light, and the way the dress creases over her curves makes it near impossible for me to look at her. The dress hugs close to her chest, pushing her breasts up and out, and even worse, the dress is short, barely reaching her upper thighs. And then there’s the boots… Thigh-high, black suede, leaving just a sliver of skin between where her dress ends and the boots begin.
On the ride over to Obsidian, I have to keep my eyes glued to my phone screen, because just looking at Briar in those boots is pure torture.
Briar looks like the perfect little pet, which is exactly what I want from her, but it still thoroughly pisses me off, knowing no one will be able to resist looking at her.
I keep her close, my hand on the small of her back as we walk in, but after stepping inside, I take her hand in mine and lace my fingers through hers.
I feel her gaze on me, but my eyes are elsewhere, scanning the club, taking in any potential threats. After what happened last time, I’m not taking any chances with her.
Boston’s underworld is still reeling from the events of the other night.
A dead Pakhan will do that.
Word hit the streets this morning that Adrik Kostalov, the Bratva Pakhan—Aidan’s new father-in-law—is dead. But what they don’t know, is how he was shot clean through the foreheadby his own daughter.
The disaster worked out in our favor, given that Rory’s brother, Niko, is taking over as the new Bratva Pakhan. I thought they hated each other, but I guess I was wrong about that, seeing as how he helped his sister save my brother’s life.
Now I owe him one.
My hand tightens on Briar as we weave our way through the club.
Aidan brokered somewhat of a truce between Nikolai Kostalov and Cole DeLuca, the Italians’ Capo, that night, ultimately getting us off the hook for murdering the latter’s consigliere in cold blood. The truce is tentative and still untested, but the last thing any of us wants is a war.
It’s dark in here. Mahogany wood panels line the walls, and there is a thick cloud of cigar smoke in the air. The furniture is also dark wood and leather, where men sit and discuss business. They’re all armed, and we all know it.
I follow one of Niko’s men deeper into the club, keeping my eyes forward, trusting Aidan and Mac to have my back.
We draw attention as we move through the club. I’m sure everyone here knows who I am. Everyone knows the Irish were out for blood after finding out Adrik Kostalov killed Declan O’Rourke. And don’t get me wrong, I’m still fucking pissed about it, but I got my pound of flesh, so it’s time to do the hard work and foster alliances, and all that bullshit.
I should be focused on the meeting ahead, but annoyingly, all I can think about is the girl I have trailing on my heels.
“Keep your head down and don’t wander.” I draw her closer to me, muttering low enough so only she can hear me.
“I’m not an idiot,” she snaps back, and it’s the bite of defiance in her voice that eases the tension in my shoulders. It tells me she’s okay. I wasn’t sure how she’d react, walking back into the lion’s den after what happened to her last time. When she stops biting back, I’ll worry.
