Page 27 of Shane: His to Possess
He frowned, as though debating something with himself, before sighing in a way that suggested surrender. A second later, Shane joined her on the bed, pulling the blankets over them. Mia snuggled against him, feeling no guilt for enjoying the embrace and the sex that had preceded it. His lips against her forehead was the last thing she remembered before slipping into a deep sleep.
* * *
Mia woke sometime shortly after dawn to the delicious sensation of half-under, half-against her lover. Rather than panic at being pinned under a solid male form, pleasure spread through her.
Plastered against his back and partially under his side, she let her gaze wander freely over the scars on his back, squinting just a bit to see them with the faint morning light. She recognized three holes in separate spots around his back that had to be from bullets. Two were near each other and roughly the same size, making her think they might have been from the same incident.
The third was larger and lower, near the base of his spine. It was the kind of wound that should have left him paralyzed but must have missed any vital parts.
Next to that old wound was the start of the knife mark that blazed a ragged line up his back, alongside his spine. It was old and puckered, more white than pink. The mark had probably faded as much as it ever would and was likely very old. How had he survived that?
Unable to suppress the impulse, Mia reached out and touched the scar, slowly trailing her finger up the line to where it ended a short way below his shoulder blade. Halfway through, she felt him stiffen as he woke, but he didn’t move or tell her to stop. Emboldened, she slid out from under him and turned more toward his back. He jumped when she brushed her lips against the scar. Small tremors shook his frame as she moved her mouth along the line, pausing to kiss every few inches.
When she had run out of scar, Mia moved higher, kissing the back of his neck before angling her head slightly to bring her mouth close to his ear. “Tell me about it?” she invited, holding her breath as she waited to see if he would allow the intrusion. Sharing ugly secrets was even more baring than sharing bodies.
After a second, he turned over and pulled her against him. She couldn’t see his face with her cheek pressed against his hard chest, but maybe he preferred it that way.
“My father did it.” He sounded aloof, as though discussing baseball statistics or telling her about something that had happened to someone else.
She winced. “Dear god, why?”
His shrug made her shift a bit, bringing her closer to him. “I honestly don’t remember now. I know it had something to do with me being afraid to try to do something. I remember him taunting me about being a coward and saying he was going to check to see if I was spineless. The pain…” He let silence stretch for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tentatively putting her hand on his stomach as a show of comfort.
“The pain was pretty fucking unbearable. I remember that, but the rest of the details are a blur.”
“How old were you?”
“Twelve.” His hand draped over the one on his stomach to clench around her fingers. “My neighbor saved me since my mom was too fucking terrified to intercede.” Shane’s chest rumbled with an unexpected laugh. “Cormac whacked him over the head with his half-empty bottle of Jack. The dumb son-of-a-bitch had no memory of any of it and assumed he’d just passed out.”
“Did the police come?”
He snorted. “Not in that neighborhood, and not with a mean bastard like Manus O’Mara. No one wanted to cross the crazy fucker.”
“Except your neighbor?” She tilted her head to look up at him.
He nodded. “Cormac always had balls.”
The tone of affection underlying his words caught her attention. “You’re still friends?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He laughed. “Cormac is my boss’s third-in-command.”
“What are you?” Sexy, crazy, and frustrating were words that came to mind, though she didn’t utter them.
“A captain. I have a crew and I have authority, but there are those above me.” Suddenly, he pulled her on top of him, his hands on either side of her head. “Bosses who won’t be pleased if Aldo Peretti starts a war.”
She bit her lip. “Maybe you should send me away.” Her heart leapt with hope, though the darker side of her protested the idea.
Shane’s eyes narrowed. “I thought about it, but I can’t.”
Mia frowned. “Why not?”
He stroked a finger down her cheek. “You know why not. I’d rather paint a target on my ass with all three families and the feds than give you up.”
The intensity in his gaze made her shiver, and she searched her mind for something to distract him. “What do you do for your bosses?”
“Whatever they tell me.”