"I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have given in to her ridiculous outburst and slept with her on the goddamn hood of a car. But I hadn’t touched her in months, she wasn’t wearing panties, and apparently, I was a very weak man for one specific pussy."
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I love this couple. Darragh & Giuseppina know they "shouldn't" be together, but they just can't stay away from one another. They're each trying to find ways to draw out their time in each other's lives.
I'm usually not a fan of bad-ass women in books, but when they're pushed to their limits by the men in their lives, I'm here for it, and that's what happens with Pina. Her brother tries to smother her with protection and Darragh does the opposite, in staying away to protect her. She gets fed up with both men and takes matters in to her own hands.
These two have to fight for their love and will go down as one of my all-time favorite couples. Mallory Hart gives them such a great story and I can't tell you how thankful I am that she finishes their story out so perfectly. So many authors rush through a book's ending, but Mallory Hart ties things up just as she wrote the rest of the book...with a sweet, slow burn. I can't recommend this duet enough.
Nicknames/Endearments: Pina, Love
“We’re not married,” she said. I nodded. “That’s an easy fix.”
That was it. The Princess Bride, Dirty Dancing, Pretty in Pink . . . they were complete fucking bullshit. The hero doesn’t show up in the end to save you and tell you everything was a mistake and how much he loves you. He curses you out, kills your date, and says he’s only there because your brother is a raging asshole.
“You want to shoot me? Hit me with the car? What, Pina?”
“I want you to fuck me.” He blinked.
“Hit me with the car.”
“You owe me double. Which means I get to pick my consolation prize.” He scowled.
“That isn’t how it works, love.”
“Fuck me. Right here. Right now. Or you can enjoy the leisurely fifty-mile walk home with me.”
“There’s no back seat in that car, love.” I groaned, leaning my head back on his chest.
“Then fuck me on the hood."
Whiskey. Evergreen. Musk. Man. I didn’t know gods could smell so good.
His eyes met mine for one heated second before he pressed his mouth to me. I didn’t move. Just watched. Watched as he took my sensitive skin in his mouth. Ran circles with his tongue around where I wanted him to touch most. Lightning shot so heavy I wondered how I ever thought coke was special at all.
My eyes rolled back in my head while he fisted my hair, forcing me to look at him before shoving his tongue between my teeth. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him to spit in my mouth. I wanted as much of him inside me so the feeling would never leave, even after he did.
There were few things in life I could admit made me lose control, but none of those things held a candle to Pina. She didn’t make me lose control. She drove me fecking insane.
I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have given in to her ridiculous outburst and slept with her on the goddamn hood of a car. But I hadn’t touched her in months, she wasn’t wearing panties, and apparently, I was a very weak man for one specific pussy.
I came to the apartment for supplies to start gathering intel on her, but Pina was here, in her underwear and a T-shirt, eating sugar cereal like she was sucking dick.
I wanted her to know how much I tried. How much of my own family I killed to protect her. That I went through every possible scenario I could trying to figure out how to keep her close and safe without putting her in a cage. That ever since that night in February, I’d been obsessively trying to take care of her in every distant way I could.
I wanted to protect her more than I wanted to keep her, but with the lines becoming so blurred and wrong, it was no longer clear how mutually exclusive those two things were. I’d succeeded in making her hate me but barely in keeping her alive.
I used the knife to sweep all my misshapen vegetable bits into a pan. I’d spent my entire life trapped at home, learning to be a good little wife: raising children, doing laundry, neatly cooking. All for fucking nothing, because now I couldn’t even chop a pepper right. Any other skills Darragh gave me were useless without a trigger finger or the ability to write. I was nothing now.
Shooting again felt like the old Pina was coming back, and besides that, she needed to protect herself. I couldn’t watch her all day, the people I paid couldn’t watch her all day, and we all saw just how well her brother was at managing her: she blew coke and shacked up with her ex-husband.
I wasn’t jealous. I just thought anyone who wanted to touch her deserved to die.
She didn’t bring up demand five again for the rest of the night. Part of me was relieved but mostly very disappointed.
Right. Shooting. He wasn’t wrong—I was avoiding that too. Just not as much as I avoided thoughts of him.
“This was a lot less boring the last time.”
“I was tied up in a hotel room the last time.”
“Exactly.” I pouted, resting my elbow on the arm of my chair. "I want to sweeten our deal."
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll tell you everything right now,” I lilted. “For one night of demand five."
“I need you so fecking bad,” I breathed, hot breath dancing over her nipple. Her back arched, and I shoved her down. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
“Wow.” I nodded my head. “I get that, I do. But all I’m saying is, if I were trying to impress a girl’s family, I’d just bring a vintage wine or something. But, you know—” I waved my hand at his desk. "-half a mill worth of coke works too."
“Well, when I want to impress a girl’s family, I usually just bring flowers or something.” He tapped his forehead. “But teaching her to murder people works too."
The Hero of Orphans looked between us, a tense smile across his face.
“And if that Irish fuck comes anywhere near you, I’ll have him shot on sight."
“And put some makeup over that shit on your neck. You look like you’re in fucking high school.”
“I didn’t go to high school!” I called back, not bothering to ask what he was even talking about. It only took one glance in my bathroom mirror to figure it out. A ridiculous laugh bubbled up my throat. I had a massive hickey.
His eyes followed me around the room, around the couch, something heated and sensual and violent. All we would ever be, but right now, that was all I ever wanted.
I smiled, crouching in front of him. Those two Gaelic words, written on his thighs in black ink, stared back at me. Between them, them, the one thing I was about to make mine.
“Do you want me to dance for you, love?” He shook his head.
“I want you to stop acting insane."
“Call me crazy all you want, but I think you like it."
“I’m going to make you fecking scream for this."
He breathed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He turned and kissed my forehead before reaching up and grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the table. He lit it with one hand while the other stayed wrapped around me. Smoke curled above us, floating toward the ceiling.
He pressed at my entrance, angry eyes meeting mine. They always reminded me of ice, but that was a stupid comparison now. He was a tempest, a winter storm, and anything caught in it usually suffered.
“Tell him if he so much as lays a hand on you, does absolutely anything to treat you wrong, that nothing can stop me from finding him. When I kill him, it'll take me days."
A heavy beat of silence passed between us, my eyes on him, his hand on my face. I sucked in a deep breath, tried to think of what I could say. But before a single word could be conjured, he slid all the way inside me, hip to hip. The free hand gripped my hair while the other stayed on my cheek. He kissed me softly, slow and deep as my legs trembled around him. A tear formed in the corner of my eye, and he quickly brushed it away. The next one he kissed, and then he just let them fall while he rocked hard against me. It felt so good, so perfectly right, but I sobbed quietly the entire time. Because this felt so natural, it had to be wrong. Because in a few days, I'd never have this again. Because even after everything, I didn't hate him at all. I loved him so much it fucking hurt.
“I’m sorry about the casino. The thirty-dollar dress. If I could go back and change it all, I swear to god I'd make it perfect."
“We have to be up early, love."
“I love you more than anything. I always have, and I always will. No matter what, I want you to know that’s the truth. I’ve never stopped, and I couldn't if I tried."
The clock said 2:00 a.m. when I noticed she was staring at me. Her heart monitor kicked up when my eyes found her gaze. Hair splayed on white sheets and light from the monitor above, I wondered if I wad already dead. She looked like an angel.
“Thanks for saving my life,” she whispered, eyes trained on the ceiling. I reached out to take her hand, folded it into my larger one. "It's what we do," I murmured.
“I never stopped wanting you,” I whispered. “You have to know that. You’re in my thoughts, in my dreams. I was only doing what I thought was-"
There were choices we had to make in life. Big ones, small ones, and the ones in between. But as my brother laughed with the love of my life, I knew I had to make a huge one.
“What do you want?”
“It doesn’t—”
“What do you want, Darragh?"
“I always want you."
“You don’t know what else is out there."
"And what about you?" I breathed. Do you know who you are outside of me?"
“I know who I am. This is who I am.” He gestured around the penthouse, the guns and liquor and paperwork. A palace for the king. “The best moments of my life have been with you. I love you, more than you could ever realize, and that’s why I want you to do something for yourself for once. Not for me, or your family or for the sake of the mob. But for Giuseppina."
“After all this, why aren’t you fighting for me?”
“I am fighting for you. I’m always fighting for you.” He pressed his hand to my cheek, wiping away the tears. "I will always be here."
“Believe me, love. I’m not going anywhere."
“A year is a long time,” I murmured. “I wouldn’t expect you to wait for me.”
“There's nothing else I want."
I closed my eyes, forgetting about the audience. That scent, that sound . . . it was like being in heaven again. The most perfect drug, hitting in all the right ways. I already knew I'd never let it go.
“You’re early,” he said.
With the smile he wore, for a moment, it was impossible to see what he really was. He could be dark to the rest of the world, but that other part, the hidden one, I knew immediately that part belonged to me.
She’d better understand when I said I wouldn’t stop, I didn’t mean now—I meant forever. I swore on the fecking lord, not a day would go by I didn’t spend between these legs. If she was here, it meant she wanted to be. And if she wanted to be, I was never letting her go.
“I love you, Giuseppina.” Her breath hitched in the quiet room. “You’re absolutely insane, always know what you want, you’re my best friend, and when you try to shoot me, it's kind of a turn-on."
“You’re beautiful, way more violent than any woman should ever be, and there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll make an amazing wife. “Pina, will you do me the honor of marrying me?" I paused. "Legitimately, this time."