Page 37

T he Vipers’ Den was one of those places you didn’t forget. Neither were the owners.

Nico Fury, himself, greeted me at the back door. Though, greeted was a pretty loose term.

“Callahan,” he rumbled, nodding his head.

He glared at me with electric blue eyes and hummed a noise that sounded barely human.

“Aziz said to let you in. Just know this, don’t mess around in here, or I will mess with you. We clear?”

I nodded.

The Vipers had earned their reputation. But I’d earned mine, too. And just to show I was serious about not being there to cause trouble, I had my team hand in their guns.

I didn’t often carry one, aside from my ankle piece. And that I was keeping.

Using that entrance, I missed watching Clementine and her entourage enter the Den. But that was okay. I knew she’d arrived just a few seconds before me.

The tail I had on her had just sent the alert.

I stalked through the hallway, my mission pounding through me.

After she shut me out, I had to resort to other means to follow my sweet little Darlin’. Color me surprised when her father, of all people, told me she was going out tonight.

“You know, Callahan, the jury’s still out on whether or not I’ll kill you for what you did. But my team tells me this virus is brilliant, and your improvements to our firewall are inspired and advanced. So, yeah, I’ll buy the Group from you.”

“You will,” I stated, nodding my head. At least I hadn’t fucked that part up too bad.

“And I’d like to offer you a position job on the board.”

“Just me?”

“No, I’ll also hire all your personnel on a probationary basis.”

“And Clementine? I’m not giving her up, Aziz.”

“Ha. You would be a fool if you did. I gave up my wife once, and it damn near killed me. But, as for my approval of you courting my daughter, she wouldn’t ask me for it anyway. I raised a strong woman. It’s her choice, Connor. Always.”

I nodded, relief filling me.

“But if you want her, you may want to go to the Den tonight. She’s gonna be there with her cousins,” he paused, “they’re going dancing.”

The prick just wanted to see me unravel. And I almost did.

Fucker.

Look, I knew I was a caveman about this woman, but I also knew she needed to get rid of some of the hurt and sadness she experienced this week.

I also knew I was the cause of all her upset. And that alone was enough to send me into a rage.

Clementine should never be sad. She should never cry or sob like I made her.

Part of me hated myself for the things I’d done to her, which, considering the violent life I led, were fairly mild in comparison.

But it wasn’t the action itself that carried weight with me. It was the recipient of those actions.

Clementine simply meant more to me than words could express.

I love her.

I almost missed a step as the realization punched me right in my gut. I loved that woman and without her I was nothing.

Garbage.

A loser.

Completely and utterly bereft.

It didn’t matter how much money her father paid for my company or the fact he’d handle all the outstanding debts, liens, and loans on the Group, hiring my employees, and giving me a position on his board.

Most of the Callahan family was happy with the outcome, my mother and sister especially. They’d been worried about me.

But the old timers like Lorne were pissed. They refused to have anything to do with it, and that was fine. They could slither away like the slugs they were.

The heavy bass of old school dance music made the walls vibrate, and I cocked my head to the side, curious. That my sweet, not to mention young Clementine, even knew this kind of music was shocking.

I grinned as I caught sight of her flaming hair beneath the flashing lights. Circling the crowded dancefloor I kept my eye on her, eyes bulging when I finally got a good look.

Fucking hell.

She looked, well , she looked so fucking hot.

She wore a skintight skirt that barely covered her plump, heart-shaped ass. I swear I saw flashes of red, and was that white, when she jumped and wiggled, swaying to the music.

I didn’t know what I was seeing, but I liked it.

On top, she wore a green shiny top that barely contained her big tits.

Her gorgeous cleavage was making me fucking salivate. I didn’t know where to look first.

So, I looked everywhere. From her knee-high leather boots to her pale thighs. That tight fucking skirt to the shimmery tank top that molded to her like a second skin.

And, fuck, damn, the rapt expression on her face and those waves of crimson, her fat auburn curls, dancing down her back like a river of fire.

Looking at her beautiful body while she blew off steam should have made me feel like some Peeping Tom or a pervert with the thoughts I was having.

But it didn’t. Because that woman was mine. And I was born to be right there with her.

She was so beautiful.

All oranges and coppers. A ritual treasure trove of passion that defied reason.

I wanted to touch her so damn badly.

To fan her inner fire. Watch her fly apart. Capture the flames that flickered in her hair as it danced across her pale shoulders with every move she made.

Some stranger stopped next to me, his head following the direction of my stare, and shoved him hard.

“Back the fuck off,” I snarled, and he raised his hands in surrender, backing away.

Fuck.

I was being watched. I couldn’t go nuts in that place. But I wanted to.

The desire to run right to her, toss her over my shoulder, and drag her back home with me was so damn strong. My chest was heaving with exertion as I wrestled with myself for control.

Her cousin said something to her, and she tossed back her head and laughed. God, I missed that.

Her smiles.

Her joy.

I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed that until it was gone. It had only been a few days. But really, wasn’t it longer?

A whole year of me watching, waiting.

Countless hours of just staying in the shadows, hoping for a single glimpse of her.

Endless nights of feeding my dark soul on tiny specks of her light.

It was bad enough just watching from afar. Back before I’d touched her, it was a little bit like wishing on a star.

Like this secret, quiet hope wrapped in the weight of possibility.

There was something almost magical about it. About her.

She had this quality, this something that made you believe, if only for a moment, that the world might not be so awful.

Every time I’d looked at the pics I had of her, I’d close my eyes, take a breath, and make that silent, desperate wish.

I’d whisper the same sacred prayer that someday all my prayers, all my longing to have just a taste of the inner light she carried, might be answered.

Someday. Let me get what I want. Just this one thing. Let me have what I need so badly.

It had nothing to do with logic or reason. When I looked at Clementine, my very soul went on high alert.

I craved her with a hunger that went all the way to my marrow.

Yes, I hunted her.

For a whole year. I followed my redheaded firefly all over the place. Sought every bit of her life I could reach.

Fine, I was obsessed.

But I had camouflaged it somehow for months. All the way to Liam’s son’s christening. God, she was so beautiful then draped in emerald fabric.

She spoke to me and that little spark of hope I’d been carrying turned into a blazing fire.

Sometimes that was all it took for an ember to turn into a flame.

The odds were stacked against me. But I was familiar with reaching for stars.

And maybe— just maybe —that wish I had for her, that unexpected dream that dwelled inside me to be with Clementine, was closer than I thought.

I never imagined I could have her. Not for all my fantasizing. But she changed that all when she all but dared me to text her for a date.

That was the signal I’d needed. The shot fired in the air. It was the moment I realized my dream had the potential to be real.

The shiver of awareness that raced up my spine at the sparkle in her eye, and the mischief I witnessed in her smile, touched me in ways I had never expected.

And after, fuck, after, she surpassed my wildest dreams. But I fucked it up. I lost the only woman who ever meant anything to me, and now I had to get her back.

There was no other choice. Now that I had her in my arms, warming my bed, her slick covering my cock, I knew she was more than a dream. More than an idea or a wish.

Being with her was a fucking necessity.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. My whole body was attuned to her every move. She looked happy. Dancing and jumping, having fun with her girls.

Part of me wanted to howl and roar at every motherfucker in there to avert their gaze. To look away from what was mine.

But another part of me, a more civilized part I guessed, was proud of her for being so damn confident and happy despite the shit I put her through.

I wanted her happy. Always. And even though I was barely keeping myself in check after who knew how many minutes of her shaking that fine ass, I bit my cheek and let her have her night.

She deserved it. She deserved everything. If my sweet Darlin’ wanted to dance, then I could help her do that unmolested.

I texted my team, making sure they were ready to aid the Den’s bouncers. We’d keep their area clear of assholes so they could just have their fun.

I stayed on the periphery, keeping myself hidden. It was a role I was good at. Stalker. But I wasn’t staying in the shadows forever. And when she walked off the dance floor and headed to the bar, I knew this was my chance.

Finally , I breathed.

I almost have you, Darlin’. This time, I’m not letting go.