Niall (Vigilance 2)

“What would Lucien Marchesi say about that?”

“I’m an ally of the Marchesis. Sometimes I help them out, sometimes they help me. I’m nobody’s bitch, and I don’t intend to be yours.”

Niall tensed, and I could practically feel the anger rolling off him. “X has a hell of a lot more resources than you do.”

“But he doesn’t have a family connection.”

Niall gave me an annoying smirk. “You said you weren’t going to use it.”

“I might use it on my own terms.”

“If you’re working with Vigilance, you don’t get to call the shots.”

“Maybe you’re working with me.”

“You really think this is a dick-measuring contest, don’t you?”

“Isn’t that how the feds usually play it?”

“Sometimes, but I always win.”

“Maybe with those jackasses at the FBI and all those other letter agencies, but not with me. I promise you’d be more than impressed with what I’m packing.”

“You’re so fucking infuriating.”

“Am I, or do you just hate it when your target doesn’t roll over for you?”

Niall snarled. “I don’t know what you think FBI agents do, but I promise you I wasn’t sitting behind a desk or prancing around town in my suits. I’ve been in some fucked-up, scary-as-hell situations, and I’ve gotten out of them alive. I’m just as tough as you, and I’ll go round after round with you if that’s what it takes to prove it.”

I raised my brows and pitched my voice low. “Will you now?”

Niall stared at me. My gaze dropped to his lips, then to the pulse I could see beating against his pale throat.

“How many rounds do you think it would take? Not that it matters. I’d come out on top in every last one.” Our eyes met and held. I was sure he was fighting to remain calm as tension vibrated between us. What would he do if I kissed him?

It would be a mistake to find out.

Fuck right it would be, but sometimes making mistakes was the easiest way to learn.

No matter what justification I used, this was crazy. I hated this arrogant son of a bitch. He thought he could walk in here and tell me how to handle an investigation I’d been working on for ages. And yet, I wanted him at my mercy again. I wanted him on his knees. My body was begging me to take exactly what I wanted.

I took a step toward him, and he ran his teeth over his full bottom lip. I needed to taste it.

The door rattled, startling us both.

I stepped back from Niall as I turned to see Frankie, one of my employees, peering in. If he was here, then it had to be almost opening time. Thank fuck he hadn’t caught me showing Mr. FBI exactly how easily I could turn him compliant.

“Get me the information I need,” I growled at Niall.

“Where’s the girl? I want to talk to her.”

“Next time we talk, I’ll decide if I want to tell you that.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I never denied it.”

Niall straightened his suit jacket and stalked out the door.

I’d won that round, but no matter what I told him, I wasn’t confident I would win the next. I didn’t like my odds, but having a strong opponent was more than a little fun. That was part of why I kept working with Devil even though he drove me fucking crazy.

4

Niall

What the hell had just happened?

I’d gone in there determined to make Marco see reason and ended up hard as hell and angry. I suppose I should have expected that, but I was hoping my ill-advised interest in him wouldn’t be as intense as I remembered. He wasn’t my type at all. He was rough and unpredictable. Uncooperative and… hot as fuck, though he looked nothing like the men I usually went for, not that I’d gone for much of anybody since I’d left the Bureau and moved to Boston.

Back in DC, I’d hooked up with younger men. Men who were sleek and polished and willing to do exactly what I said. Marco wasn’t going to let me take the lead in bed. He wouldn’t even take my advice about a mission I was clearly more qualified to run. Not that we were going to be in bed together. No matter how many times I’d fantasized about it, that wasn’t what I really wanted, was it? I didn’t want to be controlled.

Yes, you do.

I wished I could block thoughts like that from my mind, but that little voice inside was right. Whenever I fantasized about Marco, it was always him holding me down, him pushing me, forcing me. But I didn’t really want that, did I? Sure, I’d fantasized about being dominated since I was a teen, but the one time—other than that night with Marco—that I’d let someone have that kind of control, it hadn’t gone well. I had no intention of giving Marco that kind of power. I’d been unprepared for the rush of desire I’d felt that morning. I wouldn’t be caught off guard again. I would keep my distance, and my dick would just have to behave.