Page 13 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

He took it from there. He ran his fingers through her hair and down her back, inching her closer until there was nothing more than a breath of distance between them.

It would have been so damn easy to lean forward and touch him, pressing her body against his, but the separation was almost unbearably erotic.

She shivered again, tilting her head back to give him better access.

She’d never been kissed like this, like she was something to be savored…valued. Like he had all the time in the world and he’d still never get enough.

Common sense tried to rear up and remind her that it was a goddamn kiss, not a lifetime commitment, but then his thumb feathered across the underside of her breast, and all rational reasoning flew right out the window.

He rested his forehead against hers, and groaned. “You’re making it hard to be good, sweetheart.”

So don’t be good . She gritted her teeth to keep the words inside.

If she started pressing now, it was a slippery slope to begging, and Olivia did not beg.

So she closed her eyes and just took a second to enjoy the feeling of being wrapped up in him while maintaining some distance.

Last night she’d pushed until she’d gotten her way.

She could push tonight and he’d give in. She knew that in her bones.

But he was hurting, and going there with her might injure him further. She took a shuddering breath. “I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” He ran his hand down her side, slipping it beneath her shirt to rest on her hip.

“I want you so bad it’s killing me. But I’m not in a position to be able to take care of you how you deserve right now, with my head wound fucking me up.

” His thumbs traced circles on her skin.

“And even if it wasn’t…A few hours ago you were telling me that this wasn’t what you want.

When you change your mind for good—and you will—I want you to know you’re not just coming down from an adrenaline high.

You want me as much as I want you. It’s not ci rcumstantial. ”

Oh . That was the last thing she’d expected.

She opened her eyes as he sat back. “It was just a quick fuck in an alley.” A really outstanding fuck.

Even if she’d been able to pretend last night was a freak thing…

She couldn’t do that now. Not when the chemistry was still sparking between them so hot, it was a wonder she didn’t burn up with it.

“Sure it was.” His low chuckle, so similar to the one he made last night before he was inside her, had her squirming.

It would have taken only the tiniest of pushes to take that kiss into the bed and lose themselves in each other.

She was already poised on the brink and he’d barely done anything.

Even now, it was a struggle to take her hands off his thighs and move away.

She concentrated on stopping touching him.

“Exactly. Nothing to write home to Mom about.”

“Olivia.”

She stopped backing away, her heartbeat picking up. “Yeah?”

“Let me take you out on a real date. It’s obvious there’s something between us. I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t want to let it pass without exploring it.”

Longing like nothing she’d ever known rose up inside her.

A real date. She wanted to say yes, to put on a pretty dress and doll herself up and let Cillian take her somewhere nice.

They’d spend the meal flirting and talking and then afterward, he’d kiss her again and, this time, there would be nothing standing in the way of taking things further.

Nothing except her past and his family.

It’s too big a risk, no matter how he makes you feel. Hell, the way he makes you feel only adds to the risk. This isn’t some casual dicking around—this could be ruinous.

“I can’t.” She stood. “I’m sorry. ”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Both . She walked to the nightstand where he’d tossed the washcloth, and picked it up, desperate for anything to distract her from the half-naked man watching her far too closely.

“I have a whole lot of shit in my past that’s just waiting to rise up and kick me in the face again, and you have…

” She motioned in his direction. “Your life. Your family. Whatever you’re running from. It would never work.”

“I’m asking for a date, sweetheart—not a lifetime commitment.”

Maybe, but there was nothing simple about her life right now, and she had a feeling he didn’t know the meaning of the word, either.

I could lose myself in a man like this. That was reason enough without everything else to stay the hell away from him.

“It’s not a good idea.” No matter how much she suddenly wanted to say yes.

He gave her a long look. “Or maybe it’s the best damn idea either of us has had. Life is too short, Olivia. Why not take your happiness where you can find it, even if it’s not forever?”

She froze. When he put it like that…She’d been so busy running and trying to just survive that she hadn’t taken a single thing for herself in longer than she could remember.

Not until last night. What was one more night in the grand scheme of things?

Even if it went well, he was right—it was one date.

It wasn’t like he was asking her to marry him.

You’re just looking for any excuse to say yes. She unfolded and refolded the wet washcloth. “I don’t know.”

He didn’t say anything else, just watched her with that heated look that made her want to cross over to him and crawl into his lap.

She turned away, but it didn’t help. She could feel him watching her, which made her think of that kiss…

which led right back into imagining another kiss. More than a kiss.

One night won’t kill me. It might even give me the breathing room I desperately need .

Flimsy excuse firmly in hand, she turned back to face him. “Okay. One date.”

And she’d pray to the God she wasn’t sure she believed in that she wasn’t making a horrible mistake.

***

Sergei stood out on the street, looking up at Beacon Hill Hotel.

He didn’t like that his Olivia had taken the O’Malley there, and he liked it even less that she was still up there.

When Dmitri sent him to Boston to keep an eye on her, he’d thought it was a reward, a chance to finally get close to her again.

Now he wasn’t so sure. It had been over a year since he could last call her his and mean it, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she was walking into a hotel with that goddamn bastard.

He didn’t like thinking about the possibility that his Olivia had turned into a whore.

His phone rang, a welcome distraction. Spending time thinking about what she was doing up there with that bastard made him want to march through the door and deal out the sort of pain he was known for.

He couldn’t do that.

Dmitri didn’t want Olivia to know he was watching her, and he’d be pissed if Sergei fucked up whatever plan he had going in that twisted head of his. “ Da ?”

“Where is she?”

Speak of the devil. Sergei might put the Romanov family and its interests first, second, and last, but he still hadn’t forgiven the man for being the reason Olivia walked away. He promised she’d be mine in the end. Remember that. “She’s with that O’Malley.”

“I see.” Dmitri sounded like he always did—cool and composed—but there was an underlying tension there. Apparently he didn’t like that his little sister was going Irish any more than Sergei did.

“Do you want me to take care of it?” Sergei asked.

He was the best at what he did and with good reason.

No one fucked with him and his in New York.

He’d worked his ass off to get that reputation and, if he sometimes enjoyed what it took to keep it…

sue him. There was no shame in being proud that he was a man people thought twice about before crossing.

But this wasn’t New York and he wasn’t in charge here.

That didn’t stop him from hoping that Dmitri would give him the go-ahead to fuck up the enemy who thought he could touch Sergei’s woman.

Then Dmitri went and dashed all those hopes to hell. “No. You had your chance to deliver the message. Now your job is to watch her, and that’s all I want done. No further contact, Sergei.”

He clenched his jaw. Always with the orders when it came to Olivia. Everywhere else, Dmitri gave him plenty of freedom and trusted his judgment. If he’d done the same a year ago, Olivia would still be in Sergei’s life and bed. “If you’re sure—”

“I am.” Just that. No explanation, but Dmitri never offered them. He was boss, and his word was law.

He was vulnerable to mistakes just like any other man, though.

Sergei was sure this was one such mistake—just like the last time he’d gone head-to-head with the O’Malley family.

If Dmitri had sent him to Boston six months ago to take care of business, they wouldn’t be in their current clusterfuck.

He would have handled things here just like he handled things at home, and that O’Malley bitch wouldn’t have had a Halloran to run to.

But he couldn’t say as much to his boss. If there was one thing Dmitri Romanov hated more than being disobeyed, it was being questioned. He had a plan, and he expected Sergei to fall in line and do what needed to be done without opening his mouth. “Got it.”

“Call me if anything changes.”

“Will do.” His gaze flicked from one illuminated window to the next.

Was she up there right now, sucking O’Malley cock?

Or was she riding him, giving him the view of a goddamn lifetime?

A sharp pain brought him back to himself.

At some point, he’d pulled the knife from his pocket and engaged it, and begun running his finger along the edge.

Sergei looked at the dark line of blood against his skin and imagined it was the man’s throat.

When the time came that Dmitri was ready to get rid of the little shit, Sergei would be the first in line to get the job done.