Page 24

“Dammit,” I swear to no one. As if to emphasize its utter emptiness, the house seems to echo my curse back to me.
I have a big problem, and her name is Hunter “Pyro” McGrath.
My stomach growls and I stomp over to the fridge and fling it open. Reaching in, I grab a bag of chips and a package of chocolate chip cookies. I need comfort food.
As I start munching away, I remember the first time Deck came over and asked why I keep my cereal, bread and cookies—what he called “pantry food”—in the refrigerator.
“What do you mean?” I’d asked.
He’d made a wide sweeping arc around my kitchen with one hand. “You have a lot of cupboards.”
And that’s when I remembered not everyone else grew up as poor as me. If we didn’t keep everything shut up tight in the fridge, the rats and cockroaches would eat it.
“Just out of habit,” I’d mumbled. Guess old habits definitely died hard.
I was lucky to grow up with both my parents, but they struggled. When both my mom’s parents got sick, their crappy insurance refused to cover anything but basic care. Basic wasn’t good enough for her. My dad already worked all day at an automobile assembly plant and my mom was a teacher. Low-paying jobs were better than no jobs at all, so they worked their asses off helping my grandparents and feeding, clothing and schooling five girls…and then, surprise, I came along.
They would never admit it, but I’m sure I was an accident. My dad said he was thrilled to have a son, though I rarely sawhim for more than a couple hours a day. He worked constantly. Weekends, too.
One Saturday afternoon, I remember walking into the living room, and he was sitting there. “What are you doing home?” I’d asked.
He said that’s the moment he reassessed his schedule, making sure he was home for dinner, so he could help us with our homework or just play catch with me. My parents decided the most important thing was to be with each other and us kids, especially after my grandparents died.
As I got older, the financial situation got a little better, but we never lived on Easy Street. My parents sacrificed to take care of everyone around them for a very long time. Now, it makes me feel good to be able to see them living their best lives.
Addie is the only one who knows the truth. I didn’t have a pot to piss in until I started working with her and Angel. I’ll never forget the day I caught her lifting a man’s wallet on the “L.” Even back then when we were just eighteen, her sleight of hand was remarkable. The guy never knew what happened, and I’d ended up following her into an alley where she opened the wallet and was in the middle of counting the cash when I confronted her.
I wanted to be able to do the same thing. I’d just graduated high school and was floating around in limbo, not sure what I was going to do. College was a pipe dream. I would’ve needed a full scholarship, and other than being good at math, I was only okay at school. I knew I couldn’t live with my family forever. Working my fingers to the bone like my parents didn’t appeal to me, but I wasn’t scared of hard work. I just wanted to see an enormous profit fast.
The only thing I really had going for me was my charm and good looks. So, I’d turned it up to the max…and Addie told me to get lost. But then Angel came around that corner and, for whatever reason, she decided then and there to take me under her wing.
I’ll be forever grateful, and now it’s my turn.
Making sure my parents and sisters have what they need—making sure my nieces and nephews don’t have to keep cereal in the fridge—is the reason I do what I do.
And I have zero regrets.
My appetite disappears and I’m about to shove the snacks back into the refrigerator when I stop, turn and open an empty cupboard. Forcing myself to put the cookies and chips on a shelf, I let out a low breath.No bugs will get in,I tell myself.You don’t live in that shithole apartment anymore.
Old habits die so fucking hard.
Shaking my head, I close the cupboard, turn out the light and head upstairs to my bedroom. I’ll probably forget I put food in there.God, I’m a mess tonight.
And I know exactly who has me off my game. A certain russet-haired temptress.
Walking into my room, I turn on the light and frown. It’s usually so easy for me to flirt, fuck on occasion, and move on. I never look back. Never even tempted to because I don’t need anything more than whatever the moment offers—a conversation, a heist, a bedmate.
So, why doesn’t that feel enough anymore?
Frustrated beyond belief at these foreign feelings leaving me so off-balanced, I strip my clothes off and get in the shower. The warm water pounds down on my body and my traitorous mind goes straight to Hunter. I imagine her in here with me, her lithe body gloriously wet and naked, in my arms.
I have a feeling she’d look insanely fantastic wet.
I’ve never wanted to kiss any woman as much as I want to kiss her. I’m dying to taste her sweet lips, tangle my tongue with hers, feel those luscious curves wrap around me. Desire burns through my veins, and I wrap a hand around my painfully hard cock. Pumping it hard, I imagine I’m inside Hunter, fucking her until she’s shaking and coming all over my weeping cock.
That visual makes me lose all control fast, and I let out a long groan as my body stiffens and I blow my release all over the tiles.Fuck. Panting hard, forehead pressed to the cool wall, the pleasure consumes me.
“Hunter…” I whisper on a ragged breath.