Cruel Infatuation (Underground Kings 3)

My arms involuntarily wrap tighter around him. “He is safe. Always.”

“I see that,” she says. “I’m happy to see him where he belongs. He is a good kid, smart, and craves affection if you can’t tell. He hasn’t had much of it.”

I want to kill whoever made my kid feel unwanted. I want a list of names. I’ll have Sebastian bring up a list of all foster homes, possibly Kendall’s whereabouts too, and maybe I’ll put the bitch out of her misery. Dillon will be better off with that parasite existing. Kendall will come back around for something, but it won’t be for Dillon. I have to do my best to protect him from her. She isn’t a good person. She always has wicked intentions.

The door across the hall opens, and Finley pauses in the middle of her doorway when she sees me and Maggie talking.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she hushes in a soft, silky tone.

“It’s okay.” Maggie gives me a questioning brow and holds out her hand to Finley. “I’m Maggie, Dillon’s social worker. Who are you? I thought I met everyone in the house.”

“Sorry, I’m Heaven’s cousin. I wasn’t supposed to come for a few more days, but I surprised him.” The lie slips easily off her tongue, like a damn professional who has lied to get by her entire life. I should be repulsed, but I’m thankful she hid how she really got here and why.

Unless Maggie sees the news.

Then I’m fucked because I’m harboring a damn murder suspect.

Finley is going to be my ruin.

And I have an inkling it will be in more ways than one.

“Well.” Maggie checks the time on her watch and grimaces. She tugs at the sleep shirt she is wearing and checks herself out, wincing again. “Okay, I need to go get ready. I have a video conference with my supervisor in twenty minutes.” She gives Finley a farewell grin, but her hand lands on my forearm and gives it a comforting squeeze before turning around and walking away.

Now I’m alone with Finley, and it’s awkward. She glances toward the ground, and I’m standing there with Dillon in my arms. She looks good. She’s showered and in a fresh change of clothes that look like they belong to Quinn. The tank top she’s wearing is a little too tight and stops just below her navel, showing a peek of skin. It’s obvious she doesn’t have bra on either. Her nipples are hard, tenting the white, nearly sheer material, and I have to make myself look away. I can see the quarter-size areolas, and a gush of saliva invades my mouth. Her tits are perfect. Just the right size to make me want to bury my fucking face between them.

She has to go first thing tomorrow. I’ve never felt as dirty as I do right now lusting after an eighteen-year-old girl.

“I was just going to get something to drink. I hope that’s okay? I won’t bother anyone,” she says, shuffling from her right and left foot. She twists her hands together, and the move has the inside of her arms show more scratches, but it’s the deep shade of purple around her wrist that has me seeing red.

If she hadn’t killed those men, I would have. My team and I would have found a way.

“It’s fine. Make yourself at home,” I say, unable to rip my eyes away from her mouth as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

I have the urge to nibble on it.

Fuck! Damn it! This woman needs to get the hell out of my house. Now!

“Thank you,” she utters, her gaze locked onto the floor.

Another round of awkward silence comes and stays, lingering in the air like a disease. This is horrible. I’m slowly smothered by my own lust, confusion, and anger.

“I don’t.”

“I should.”

We both try to speak at the same time.

“You go,” we say to each other in unison.

She smiles, letting out an airsoft laugh. She’s pretty when she smiles, and the fact that she can smile through the pain and bruises shows how strong and resilient she is. I’m impressed by her.

“I need to lay him back down. He’s been exhausted.”

“Yeah, I should get going too.” She tries to get a better look at Dillion, but the way he has his head tucked into my neck conceals his face. “That’s your son?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a good dad,” she says with fondness. “Mine used to hold me like that too, until he died.” She clears her throat and begins to walk down the hallway toward the kitchen. She turns around to say one last thing, when she catches me checking out her ass. “I saw that.” She walks backward, and with every step she takes, her tits bounce. “I saw that too,” Finley says, and my eyes lift from her chest to her face. This time I’m caught red-handed.