When He Desires: A Dark Mafia Romance (Fallen God Book 1)
When He Desires: Chapter 19

Not even an hour after I left The Junction with Sandro, I come back with Blake.

I wave hello to Denny and do a quick scan of the other patrons. A couple in a booth, a lone guy at a high-top table nursing a beer, and a few older women drinking dirty martinis at the bar. Quiet for a Saturday.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Blake says, glancing around. “I think the last time was for Del’s twenty-first birthday.”

“Who’s Del?”

“My best friend. She moved to San Francisco two years ago,” Blake says, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of the neon sign above the bar. “I need to send her evidence that I went out. She’s always on my case for spending most of my evenings reading. According to her, my spirit animal is the hermit crab.”

I chuckle. “I can see that.”

She shoots me a dirty look. “You strike me as a—“

“Lion. King of the jungle.”

“I was going to say… Well, never mind.” She heads toward a booth in the far corner.

I follow after her. “Say it.”

“I’m worried you’ll think it’s unkind.”

“Say it.”

“Bird of paradise.”

I snort. “That is unkind. A bird? Really?”

Blake slides into the circular leather booth that wraps around the table. It’s warm in here, and she unzips her light-blue hoodie all the way. “It’s not just any bird.”

I slide in across from her. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why that one?”

“The males engage in elaborate courtship displays to attract their females. Sometimes more than one per breeding season.”

“So they’re avian man whores. Bird whores? Got it.”

Her laugh sends a zing down my spine. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Now, let’s see if this classic courtship display will work on you.” I get back to my feet. “Can I get you a drink?”

She bites down on her lips, like she’s holding back a smile, her eyes shining with amusement. There’s a smile on my face as well.

It’s easy talking to her.

“A double G&T,” she says, rubbing the small of her back. “Hendricks, if they’ve got it.”

“A double? We can go straight for the tequila shots if you prefer.”

“Don’t be a bad influence.”

“Guilty as charged.” I wink at her and walk toward the bar.

I order her G&T and a beer for myself. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker until I got to Darkwater Hollow, but if I went around ordering Macallan 15—my go-to in New York—it might raise some eyebrows. Most places in this area don’t even carry it, but The Junction does. I stare at it longingly while I wait for Denny to make the cocktail.

When I bring our drinks back to the table, Blake reaches inside her purse. “How much do I owe you?”

I slide the G&T over to her. “Courtship ritual, remember? They’re on me.”

“Rowan, you can’t just keep paying for everything.”

Oh baby, you have no idea.

“I’m starting to feel insulted you think I’m a guy who doesn’t pay on a date. Plus, didn’t you just lose your job or something?”

She huffs. “Thanks for rubbing it in. I didn’t lose it. I’m just underemployed, okay? And since when is this a date?”

I take the seat across from her. “Might as well be one. This can be us testing the waters.”

Her eyes widen as she grasps my meaning. “I-I guess you’re right,” she says, stumbling over her words. She glances around the bar like she’s suddenly self-conscious about our potential audience.

Funny how she can be so feisty, but as soon as she thinks it looks like we’re on a date, she gets all shy.

“No one’s paying attention to us,” she says, sounding relieved.

“Maybe we should have gone to a busier place,” I tease. “But first, I have to make sure you can sell it.”

She sucks on her straw and rubs her back. “Sell what exactly?”

“That you’re in love with me.“

Blake starts coughing.

I slide along the bench, moving closer to her, and pat her on the back.

She sucks in a harsh breath, wincing. “Ouch.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” I didn’t pat her that hard.

She wiggles her upper body like she’s trying to stretch it out. “I think I pulled a muscle in my back earlier today when I was moving my things to your place.”

“Why didn’t you wait for me to help you?”

She stretches again, and her face contorts with pain. “I was just angry with Brett and wasn’t careful while lifting my suitcase up the steps. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine.

This woman’s insistence on not asking for help is going to get her killed one day.

I wrap my palms around her narrow waist and carefully turn her so her back is angled toward me. “Let me see.”

“Hey! What are you doing?” she protests.

“Shh.” I slide her hoodie off her shoulders before she can stop me. Goosebumps erupt over her skin.

“Rowan, this is ri— Oooh.“

My thumbs dig into her tight lats. “Where does it hurt?”

“Lower,” she breathes.

I skim my fingertips over her shoulder blades and down to her lower back. Her spine arches slightly in response, reminding me of a cat.

“To the right.”

I apply some light pressure. “Here?”

“Mhmm.”

I press my thumbs into the spot, kneading it gently. The tension in her body starts to ease, her shoulders dropping.

She’s warm, pliable, responsive. If only she knew how good I could make her feel. I have a feeling this woman will be magnificent when she comes.

On my face. On my fingers. On my cock.

Fuck, I’m hard.

She turns her head sideways, giving me a view of her profile. “Rowan, this is—“ Her eyelashes flutter. “Oh, shit.”

I work my knuckles into the tight knot in her lower back, careful not to overdo it. She feels so fragile. So breakable. But I know it’s an illusion. There’s nothing breakable about her. “Good?”

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip and turns to face away from me again. “Yes. That’s good.” Her head tips slightly forward, her hair falling into her face. “You don’t need to keep doing it.”

I’d like to do this all night if she’d let me.

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” she asks softly.

“I don’t know. Tell me about your friends and family. Things I’d know about you if we were dating.”

“There’s not much to tell. Both of my parents are dead. Mom was sick with cancer for six years, and I took care of her. I think I already told you about my brother, the one who lives in LA.”

“He didn’t help you with your mom?”

“No, he didn’t help. He didn’t even come back to bury her.”

Indignation swirls in the pit of my stomach. What kind of a man leaves his sister and sick mom to fend for themselves?

“That sounds really difficult.”

She sighs. “It was hard, but I would’ve done anything for my mom. I’m glad I got to spend those last few years with her. It might seem like Maxton took the easy way out, but he missed out on a lot too. One day, he might regret it.”

“But you won’t have any regrets.”

“Not as far as my mom’s concerned.”

She rolls her head back and forth, like she’s got a kink in her neck. I leave her back and start working on her neck and shoulders. She makes a happy sigh. I want to bottle it up and keep it somewhere safe.

Fuck. A warning siren flashes in the back of my head. When was the last time I was this fascinated with a woman?

“Maxton doesn’t even know about the house fire. Doubt he’d care. Mom rewrote the will to leave the house to me after it became clear he was never going to come help take care of her.”

“You haven’t called him?”

“We haven’t talked since he skipped out on Mom’s funeral. Anyway, what about your family?” she asks. “You said you’re an only child.”

My story’s well-rehearsed by now. “Dad was an electrician. Mom was a nurse. They’re both gone.”

“Where were you born? In New York?”

Her questions remind me I’ve already slipped with her once when she asked me where I came from that time I drove her home.

I’d hoped she’d forget it.

Sandro and I have Nevada IDs, and our records say we’re both from Philly, but I told Blake that before I came to Darkwater Hollow, I was in New York.

I’ve got to straighten out my backstory.

“I wasn’t born there, no. I’m originally from Philly, and I spent a long time in Vegas.”

“And then you said you went to New York. I’ve always wanted to visit. Did you like it there?”

I clench my jaw against the onslaught of memories. “Yeah, I did. It’s the only place where I felt at home.”

Her breath hitches as I drag my thumbs over the tight muscles in her neck. “Why’s that?”

“I had a good community there. People who I cared about and who cared about me.”

Something tightens in my chest. I miss that feeling of belonging. Of being surrounded by people who understand me. Who know the real me.

I look down at Blake. If she knew who I was, how would she react? Would she be afraid? Or would she accept the darkness in me?

There’s no point in wondering, I suppose. I can never tell her the truth.

“That sounds nice,” Blake says, a note of longing in her voice. “Why did you leave?”

My movements slow. “Had a falling out with someone important to me. A friend.”

She turns to look at me over her shoulder, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore, so I slide one hand up under her shirt to distract her and meet soft, velvet skin.

She sucks in a low breath.

God, she feels so damn good.

A flush spreads up her cheeks, and the pulse in her neck speeds up. She picks up her sweating glass—there’s only ice left inside—and rolls it back and forth over her clavicle.

I flip my hand under her shirt, letting my knuckles brush over her spine. I’m not working her muscles anymore. I’m just touching her, and the fact that she’s not stopping me gives me a heady rush.

She turns, giving me her profile. Her lips are so fucking kissable, and I want nothing more than to tug her against my chest and claim them for myself.

Suddenly, she tenses and moves away from me.

“Shit.” She puts her hoodie back on in a rush.

“What’s wrong?” I turn to see what she’s looking at.

It’s the man who was nursing a beer earlier. He’s now paying at the bar.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“No one.’

Her nervous reaction suggests he’s more than just “no one.”

He puts on a leather jacket, and there’s a large patch on the back—a raptor with a chain hanging off its neck. A member of a motorcycle gang?

I haven’t heard of any active gangs in Darkwater Hollow, but there are definitely some in Kansas City.

The bigger question is why Blake seems to be scared of him. “Do you know him?”

“No.” She pulls up her hoodie and tucks her hair inside.

“Then why do you seem afraid of him recognizing you?”

She swallows nervously.

After settling his bill and chatting with Denny, the man turns to leave. Blake is on high alert and watches his every move. Just as he nears the front door, he looks directly toward us.

His steps halt.

Slowly, a smirk appears on his lips.

I look over at Blake, gauging her reaction. When I see the small tremble in her hands, I know for a fact that she’s terrified of him.

I’m going to replace out why.

And then I’m going to make him pay for whatever he did to her.

The man stares at Blake for a long moment and then walks out of the bar.

As soon as the door closes behind the biker, Blake lets out a shaky breath. “I want to go home.”

“Tell me his name.”

She stands up. “Just drop it, Rowan.”

My irritation spikes as she stalks away from me. This whole not-asking-for-help business is getting on my nerves.

She’s still quiet when we get into my truck. “Blake, who was that guy?”

Her hands fist in her lap. “Look, no offense, but it’s really none of your business.”

My jaw clenches as I pull out of the lot.

Like fucking hell it’s not.

But one glance at the closed-off expression on her face, and I know she won’t give me anything tonight.

Fine. If she won’t answer me, I’ll get the answer to my question on my own. After all, in Darkwater Hollow, everyone knows everyone’s secrets.

And I won’t stop until I uncover hers.