Bow Down(135)

We finished dinner and our drinks, chatting idly about our days. I cleaned the dishes and he dried, and when all of that was done we collapsed onto the couch together, enjoying the quiet and the intimacy of the evening.

I loved living in Chicago. Though I always imagined I’d work at some big fancy research lab at a big university one day, I was really enjoying teaching. I was glad Camden had a real job and wasn’t using his skills to keep stealing cars, although I couldn’t imagine that was something he ever wanted to do again. Not after what had happened.

“Now what?” I asked him.

He pressed his body against mine. “Now what do you think?”

I kissed his neck. “Come on. Really.”

“I don’t know. We don’t need to do anything if you want to stay in.”

I nodded, breathing in his smell. I missed him horribly when he was away, and so I took every chance I could to drink him in when he was home.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

“Sounds good.” He kissed me fully and deeply. I felt like I was spinning out of control with happiness as I wrapped my arms around him, embracing him fully.

“I love you, you know that?” he said after a minute.

“I know. I love you too.”

He kissed my neck. “I fucking worship you.”

“You better.”

He smirked at me. “Now give me what I want.”

I felt a thrill run through my body.

“Whatever you say, future husband.”

I knew I’d do whatever he wanted me to do.

I wanted to give him everything, every piece of me, every inch I had to give.

He had changed slowly ever since we’d moved to the city. He had changed back into the man I knew. The darkness was still there, but it was buried deep inside him. It was like he was coming back to himself.

And I wanted to be there for him. Every single step of the way.

I was his. I was always his.

And that was more than enough for me.





Packing Heat





Prologue: Cassidy





Good girls don’t go looking for mobsters.

They don’t go to mob bars and they definitely don’t flirt with bad guys. Good girls don’t go home with strange men.

Maybe I wasn’t good. I always thought I was. I grew up in Ohio, I had a normal childhood, and I never got in trouble. I became a journalist because I wanted to help the world. I was working hard on a story that I thought could help break human trafficking wide open and maybe save a lot of lives.

Instead, I found him. Cocky, tall, and so damn handsome, I felt instantly afraid of how badly I wanted him to drag me into a dark corner and never let me go.

That was the kind of man he was. He was more likely to pick me up and drag me off than he was to smile and politely say hello. I was afraid of him, but there was something else beneath that fear that made me sit down next to him and order a drink.

It was just one drink, I told myself. I was out researching a story, trying to find out about human trafficking in Chicago.

Just one drink turned into so much more.

I’d never forget his eyes as he pressed me against the wall behind the bar.

I’d never forget his words.

“You’re going to be mine tonight, whether you know it yet or not. I already have you begging. I’ll have you doing so much worse.”

That cocky bastard. I never wanted this to happen. I was supposed to be a journalist, and journalists weren’t supposed to get involved with their subjects.

I was supposed to be good.

But when he came around, I found myself being bad. Very, very bad.

Bright green eyes. A grin that made me so angry I could barely breathe. A dirty mouth that swept all of that anger away and left me in a drooling puddle on the floor.

The city was full of dark and light, light and dark, and all the colors in between. I thought I was working for the light, and he was firmly in the dark.

But nothing was ever that simple. In a city like Chicago, there were only the things hiding in between, the things that weren’t easy to stick into neat little boxes. He was like that, a twisted little game wrapped in an incredibly handsome body.

I thought I hated games. He made me realize I didn’t know a thing about myself or about the world.

His dirty, cocky grin again, floating into view. “Come on, girl, quit pretending. Let me teach you a thing or two.”

I bit my lip and looked away. I wasn’t going to let him have me.

“It’s way too late for that. Chin up. Take what you want.”

I didn’t want to be in the places between the dark and the light. But maybe, just maybe, if I went there with him, I’d come back more myself. I’d come back with a story and finally figure out who I was.

Or maybe he’d ruin me completely.





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Cassidy