Page 65 of Curse

“Um, are you ok—”

I don’t get the chance to finish. In a blink, he’s across the room and on the bed next to me. I shrink into the blankets, frozen, barely breathing. There’s something unhinged in his gaze as he grabs my wrists, pulling me upright, then cups my face in his hands.

He searches my face, his gaze flickering from my lips to my eyes and back again. His intensity is raw, vulnerable, his soul ripped open in front of me. I can’t breathe as I watch him wrestle with some unnamed emotion while I hold space until he finds resolution.

Running his thumb over my mouth, he parts my lips, and I all but stop breathing. He dips his head lower, so close that his breath fans against my skin, his mouth hovering just above mine.

I brace for him to crash into me, to claim me with the same intensity that blazes in his eyes, but he doesn’t. Instead, he ghosts his lips over mine, his tongue swiping over my bottomlip, teasing me, tasting me.

He pulls back, his eyes dark and searching, then leans in again, this time pressing his lips to mine with slow, deliberate force. It’s like an electric shock passes between us, tethering us together as he kisses me softly.

When his tongue meets mine, we both moan softly, and I reach for him, cradling his face as he threads his fingers into my hair, cupping the back of my head.

Slowly, languidly, he kisses me until I unravel, until I lose all sense of time and place. Until we’re tangled in each other, inseparable, nothing between us but heat and gravity.

When he finally pulls away, we stare at each other, breathless, wordless.

It has the same effect as a flamethrower melting me to the bed.

33

Matti

After a shower, I put on one of the suits I keep here, and double check that my Walther PDP is locked and loaded before I put it into my underarm holster.

Nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of the day in bed with Siena kissing her beautiful mouth or shackling her spread eagle to the wall and making her scream my name. I still can’t believe I fucked her in a bed, that I kissed her—really kissed her. Proof positive that this woman has me, for better or worse.

But there are pressing matters that demand my attention.

The way her expression shifted when I asked about her encounter with Franco, the vulnerability it betrayed, haunts me. Yes, she beat his ass and that spoke volumes, but her emotions were so raw that she couldn’t even talk about it, and that told me all I needed to know.

Part of me is frustrated that she let him get to her, that she didn’t end him when she had the chance. But I know better. Family complicates everything. Look at Vin and Aurelio. Vin has killed men for lesser offenses than Aurelio’s, yet he’s neverraised more than his voice to his father. Blood binds in ways logic cannot sever.

Whatever history Siena has with Franco, one thing is certain: I won’t let him hurt her again. As I navigate the Edge’s maze of hallways, I deliberate how to handle Franco. I can’t take him out. She just lost a sibling, and I won’t be the reason she loses another one. But I can’t let anyone hurt her and get away with it, either.

A few turns later, I reach Franco’s room. Olivia steps out as I approach, and her face pales at the sight of me. I sneer, remembering Siena’s mention of the “fuckboy” conversation, and Olivia glares back.

She shouldn’t be angry; she should be fucking scared. Talking shit about me to my girl? Unacceptable.

Olivia freezes as I close the distance between us, her hand on the doorknob. When I reach her, I yank the door shut, blocking Franco from overhearing.

“What happened with the Irish?” I demand, my tone sharp.

Her eyes widen. “They left, pretty much right after you arrived. Was I supposed to—”

“Relax, Olivia. You’re fine.” I wave her off.

I should have handled them myself yesterday, but walking in to find Siena tied to that chair obliterated every other thought in my head.

Olivia takes a deep breath, and her shoulders visibly soften. I forget sometimes that she’s just a kid.

“They hate Aurelio. I don’t know the head guy’s name, but he hates that his dad does business with him and was saying that when he’s in charge, he’s going to tell Aurelio to fuck off.”

Mildly interesting. Aurelio isn’t exactly a charmer; everyone despises him to some degree.

Silence stretches between us as I scrutinize her. Olivia fidgets under my gaze. “Can I go?” she finally asks.

“I need your keys.”

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