Page 34 of Blood & Kisses

Gabe grunts as the corner of his mouth tugs a little, amused by my naivety. “Death can occur in a prison cell,” Gabe points out.

“Huh, I never thought of that,” I reply, realizing that this has been a massive undertaking and every crack and crevice must be covered.

“We’ve set up Blackadder to take the heat off anyone else, for example, Lyons’ wife and you,” Gabe continues, picking up his fork to cut the roast potato on his plate. “Your vegetables will get cold.”

I pick up my fork and do the same, cutting some chicken meat and shoving it into my hungry gob as I reflect on what he and the boys have told me. “And what about the next guy, The Crow? Do you have that covered?”

“What?” Blake cuts in. “Do we look like amateurs to you? Of course, we’ve got that covered, or else I wouldn’t be taking you to his little beach house on the coast so that you can pop holes in that motherfucker.”

“You’re filling me with confidence every time you say motherfucker,” I hit, cutting a joke.

Blake shoots me a dimpled grin. “Now, we’re talking, sweetheart, and I only said ‘motherfucker’ once.”

“Twice now,” Cormac adds. “And my original bet remains. Misses twice and hits on the third try.”

“Ye of little faith,” I argue, smiling to show that I hold no antagonism.

“Have you held an AK forty-seven before?” Cormac asks smugly, already knowing the answer.

“Of course, she hasn’t,” Blake answers for me. “She only held a Glock only…what a month ago and…ah, used that hardware like the goddess she is.”

Cormac shoves more food into his gob, finishing his plate before anyone else. “My bet remains.”

“Well, brother,” Blake rubs his hands together in glee, the devil beaming out from that handsome face. We’ll have to prove you wrong.” He looks back at me. “Nine AM tomorrow, Rae. Shooting range. No excuses.”

“I’ve got a class,” I reply heavyheartedly because I’d rather be with Blake as he masterfully teaches me how to use a long-range weapon. “But I can miss it and catch up later.”

“Good girl,” he replies smoothly, winking. I know he’s not thinking about the shooting range right now, but that dirty mind will get him in trouble one day.

18

I prepare for bed as my mind obsesses over what we discussed this evening. There’s a gentle knock at my door, and my breath hitches; assuming it’s Gabe and I compose my nerves. It’s late. He found me in his bed this morning, and maybe, just maybe, he wanted me to climb into his bed again.

But it’s not Gabe’s chiseled jaw that greets me; it’s Cormac's sullen stare, leaning casually against my door frame.

“Can I help you?” I ask, knowing exactly why he’s here, but I’ll play dumb anyway, just for fun.

“Yes,” he replies swiftly, nostrils flared, eyes running down my hard nipples protruding through the single layer of fabric. I bite my lower lip while twirling my golden hair around my finger, knowing it will get him going.

“Do tell me how I can help you?” I challenge, flirtatiously, batting my eyelashes.

“By wrapping those lips around my cock,” he hits bluntly, getting straight to the point, which is how Cormac works – cutting to the chase.

“Well, you know how to woo a girl, right?” I flirted, wondering if Gabe was nearby, and overheard his son speak to his houseguest in a dirty manner. That thought makes me a little self-conscious, and Cormac seems to notice it, although he’s unlikely to know the reason why.

“Are you going to invite me?” those eyes drill holes into my skull. “So, we can have some privacy while you help me.”

“Under your father’s roof?” I add to gauge where his head is at.

“And? He’s downstairs, getting ready for his shift. He won’t hear you scream,” he replies with a hint of malice.

I snort as my armor drops and step back to open the door wider for him to slip inside my lair. As he slides past me, pressing his body against mine, he presses his lips against my temple as his big hand finds my butt cheek and squeezes.

He waltzes in like he owns the place and parks his butt on my bed. As I close the door, a hand appears and pushes the door back, a dimpled smile, inviting himself in as well. “I heard there was a party going on in here,” Blake croons, nestling his face into the curve of my neck and nibbling my earlobe while his hand strokes the base of my spine just above my butt crack.

“There’s no party,” I assert, as Cormac makes himself at home on my bed, lying back and resting his head on my pillow.

Blake pokes his head behind the drapes and inspects outside, and I wonder what he’s looking for in the dark since this side of the house faces the lake. “There is now,” Blake argues, moving away from the blind and cocking his eyebrows at me.

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