Destructive King (Mafia Royals 3)

That and cameras and, according to Ash, guns.

Yay us.

At least we were safe.

I smiled at the thought.

Safe.

I’d never been so safe in my entire life—including when the bomb had been sent in the creepy stuffed horse.

As much as I wanted to just crash, I knew I needed a shower, so I took my time in stripping my clothes and going into the en suite bathroom.

Steam filled the room as I thought about the day.

About the weird convo with Serena and Junior that a year ago would have had me in tears of complete fear and confusion.

And now… now I felt strong.

Life was so strange, wasn’t it?

I washed the day away, and shut off the shower, grabbed a towel, and dried off, wrapping the towel around my body as I went back into my room.

“You left,” Ash said from behind me.

I jerked upright and banged my ankle against the bed stand, then stumbled backward toward the bed, finally sitting on it and crossing my legs like I planned on a graceful fall. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you’re okay.” His massive body was leaning against the doorframe. I hated how he seemed to swallow it whole, with his dark jeans and tight shirt.

I equally hated how delicious his tattoos looked in the moonlight like he was some sort of punishing deity sent down to wreak havoc on us mere mortals.

His whiskey-colored hair seemed to come alive in the flicker of light still on in the bathroom and spilling into my bedroom.

I clutched my towel tighter. “Well, I’m safe, so you can just… go.”

His eyes flickered with amusement. “But I just got here.”

“Hah.” I crossed and uncrossed my legs awkwardly. “At least let me put on some clothes then?”

“Negative.” He shrugged. “I like you… a bit unsure. Plus, I can see almost completely up your right leg until it goes dark, and my memory is really fucking good.”

I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him.

He caught it with one hand and a laugh, then tossed it to the floor and continued walking toward me.

Self-preservation had me jolting from my bed because my heart was completely on board with dropping the towel and begging him to kiss me.

To say my name.

Not hers.

To know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was kissing me.

Loving me.

Asking the stars to stay in the sky—for me when he’d only ever begged the sky to stay for Claire.

I sucked in my bottom lip and backed toward my bookcase, naturally stumbling into it because my focus was completely on his predatory body and the way he seemed to almost dance through the night air.

Something crinkled beneath my foot.

Frowning, I looked down.

Oh no!

“Annie…” His voice was low. Deadly. “Are those my fruit snacks?”

My stomach dropped as his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that was so terrifying I nearly stopped breathing. “No. Nope. They’re, mine, totally mine.”

He bent down and grabbed one of the packages that had spilled from the bin in my bookcase. “Really? Because I write down the date of each box I purchase, and this matches what I wrote down in my dream journal that day.”

“What?” My knees knocked together. “You write it down?”

“Did you miss the dream journal part?” He looked up with a grin on his face. “And I’m shitting you. I know they’re mine because I’ve been missing almost an entire box for a week…”

“Maybe…” I shrugged. “I bought my own.”

“You know you’re the worst liar ever, right? Like if I asked you to tell me the sky was brown, I think you’d stutter halfway through and then look away and lamely try to change the subject.”

“That’s not true!” Asshole! “Plus, they’re mine. Finders keepers.”

“Ohhhh, is that how this game works?” He was right in front of me, all masculine perfection, flawless full pout, a strong jaw that I wanted to reach out and touch then slap because it was so perfect. “I find it, I keep it?”

“Yup.” I lifted my chin.

His arms came around me in a flash, and then his forehead touched mine. “Found you. Keeping you.”

My lower lip trembled. “That’s a really manipulative way to try to get your fruit snacks back.”

“Is it working?” He pulled me tenderly against his chest. “What if we trade?”

“I have nothing more to give.”

“Ohhh…” His eyes searched mine. “I’m not so sure about that.”

I tried to keep my towel tightly wound around me, but his eyes were hypnotic demons from hell that had me loosening my grip to the point that I had one hand holding it in front of me, pressed between our bodies, touching the necklace I gave him.

She would always be there.

And I was okay with that.

As long as I was there too.

“Ash,” I warned.

“I was going to give you your present… do you still want it?”

“Is it a puppy?” I joked, trying to break the sexual tension between us. I needed to stay strong.