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

When I walk into the kitchen to make coffee a half hour before we’re due to leave for the Handy Heroes office the next morning, Rowan is there.

I come to a sharp halt.

My jaw drops.

He’s whisking something in a bowl and wearing only a pair of jeans that are slung low on his hips. My eyes slide over his tattooed back with the eagerness of a kid going down a waterslide. I’ve never seen a body like his in real life. He’s all muscle and ink, the dark lines flowing along his tanned skin.

“Want eggs before we head out?” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Sure.” It comes out like a croak.

He turns to pour the egg mixture into a hot pan, and I get a glimpse of his abs. All eight of them.

Yep, okay. The image of Rowan’s sculpted torso has been officially burned into my mind.

I try my best to avert my gaze, pretending to be nonchalant as I walk over to the coffee maker. “How was the rest of your day yesterday?”

I ended up driving back here with Sam. He wanted to review some things at the house with me. He stayed until Rowan came home, but I was so embarrassed about my deranged behavior at his office that I said I was tired and hid from him in the bedroom for the rest of the night.

I’m not proud of it.

“Busy. How did things go with Sam?”

When I sit down on the chair, my panties stick to me.

Fuck my life.

“He’s a sweetheart. He’s working on a detailed plan for everything, and the work is going to start next week.”

I tried to ask Sam how much the renovation was going to cost, but it was like he was deathly allergic to discussing anything attached to a dollar sign.

Just how much is Rowan spending on me?

He moves the eggs around the pan. “Good. I asked him to move quickly.”

Despite my best efforts, my gaze slides back down his body. What would it be like to feel that body move over me?

My mouth goes dry.

“I thought we could make our official public debut today.”

“What?” I ask weakly.

He transfers the eggs onto two plates. “Our relationship.”

“I thought our public debut was at the bar.”

“No one saw us.”

“Where do you want to go tonight?”

He turns, flashing me his abs again. “Frostbite is an awkward choice since you’re still employed there, so I made us reservations at Emerald Grill for seven p.m.”

I blink, trying to remember how to speak. Emerald Grill is the second most popular restaurant in town after Frostbite, and it will be packed, even on a Tuesday night.

Rowan puts the plates down, sits across from me at the breakfast table, and smiles. “You up for it? After yesterday’s performance at the office, I can’t imagine you’re not.”

My cheeks heat. “Of course.”

After all, it’s about time I start earning my keep.

As expected, the Emerald Grill parking lot is packed when we arrive that evening. Rowan’s long fingers are intertwined with mine as we walk up to the hostess stand, and while he seems completely at ease, my gut is a churning mess of nerves.

I’m not doing anything wrong. Brett and I broke up months ago, and he was the one who cheated on me. There’s nothing strange about me moving on, but the fact that my supposed new boyfriend is Rowan makes it more complicated.

People will talk. And the thought of being subjected to all that gossip fills me with unease.

We follow the hostess through the dining room, and Rowan slides his arm around my waist, palming my right hip with his large hand.

His warmth seeps through the fabric of my dress, branding my skin. His touch feels practiced, like he’s held me like this a hundred times before, but he hasn’t. This must be how he’s touched all of the women that came before me.

Disappointment flickers through me at the thought.

As we walk, it feels like everyone’s eyes are on Rowan and me. I can guess what all of these people—most of whom I recognize—are thinking. He picked her? He usually goes for prettier girls. Doesn’t he know who she is?

The dress I’m wearing is one of the nicer ones I’ve got—it’s got cute ruffled sleeves and a flared skirt that ends midthigh. I’ve got a pair of tights on because it’s too damn cold for bare legs, and they’ve got a bit of a sheen to them that I like. Completing the outfit is a pair of high-heeled boots I got from the sales rack at TJ Maxx.

If anything, I’m a bit overdressed. Rowan’s only wearing a light-blue button-up shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looks like a damn male model, and I’ve never felt more self-conscious than I do now.

I’m praying for a table that’ll give us a bit of privacy, but the universe isn’t listening. The hostess puts us on the right side of the main dining area, where everyone can see us.

I slide into my chair, pick up the menu she leaves on the table, and clutch it in front of my face.

While Rowan’s getting settled in, I try to get my anxiety under control.

Of course, everyone is staring at us. They stared when I first started dating Brett too.

With Brett, there was an explanation. We worked together for a year before he asked me out. People probably thought I spent that entire year seducing him or something crazy like that.

But how will they explain Rowan and me?

I can imagine their whispers. Those two don’t make any sense together.

They’re right. We don’t. That’s why this isn’t real. Why it’s just pretend.

But even pretending with him feels like I’ve accidentally gotten onto a rollercoaster to heartbreak, and I have no idea how to get off.

Rowan’s gaze lifts to me. “What are you thinking?”

I close the menu without even looking at the items on it and put it down between us. “I don’t know. I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed,” I admit quietly. “Everyone’s staring.”

His eyes are warm and attentive. “They’re staring because you look fantastic, and people like to stare at beautiful things.”

Shock reverberates through me. He thinks I’m beautiful? I’ve never thought of myself as special before—

Oh.

Bringing the ice water to my lips, I swallow down my disappointment. “You’re good at this. I almost believed you.”

His thick brows furrow. “You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’re in character. Which is fine. I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Our conversation is interrupted by a waitress coming by to take our drink orders. He orders a bottle of red wine, sends her on her way, and then leans forward, bringing our heads close together.

“I don’t need to be in character to appreciate a beautiful woman and her company.”

My eyes trace his lips. A man like Rowan shouldn’t have such perfect lips, full and shapely. He’s tempting enough as is.

Even if he’s lying.

I know I’m no great beauty. My nose is too pointy, my mouth is too wide, and despite being blond-haired and blue-eyed, there’s something about how my features all come together that puts me far from the mainstream ideal.

But what’s the point of arguing with him? Do I really want him to admit to me that even on my best day, like right now, I’ll never measure up to the worst day of some of the other women he’s been with?

I’m not a masochist.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I say stiffly and pick up the menu to look at it again.

After we place our orders, I get up to use the ladies’ room, keeping my eyes down as I weave past the other tables.

When I return, there’s a pretty dark-haired woman sitting in my seat.

I stop a few steps away.

That’s Casey. Del told me Rowan slept with her a few months ago.

Jealousy sinks its claws into my insides. Again? Is this what dating Rowan will be all about? Seeing other women salivating over him and questioning if I’ll ever hold up to them?

It’s a good thing this is fake.

All. Just. Fake.

It takes Casey a moment to tear her gaze away from Rowan to the shadow standing by the table.

A beat passes as she takes me in, and her confused expression tips me off to the fact that she momentarily mistakes me for a waitress.

But then she catches on.

“I’m sorry, did I take your seat?” She doesn’t look in any rush to vacate it.

“Hey, Sunshine.” Before I realize what’s happening, Rowan grabs my wrist and pulls me onto his lap. I’m caught off guard and lose my balance, sinking all my weight onto him, but he doesn’t even huff in discomfort.

Sitting on him feels like sitting on an iron throne. His muscles barely budge as I shift and try to sit up straighter. He wraps one arm around my waist and places his other hand on my thigh, keeping me in place. “Casey just stopped by to say hi,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear.

My cheeks start burning. How is it that I keep ending up in his lap?

Casey’s eyes widen. “So this is…”

“My girlfriend, Blake Wolfe. Have you two met?”

Shock blooms across her face and some spiteful part of me gets a kick out of it.

“Of course. Everyone’s met everyone around here at some point.” She regains her composure. “Are you still working at Frostbite?”

I nod. “Yes, but I’m taking a few weeks off to deal with the house.”

Rowan’s thumb brushes over my inner thigh, setting off a swarm of butterflies.

Casey tucks a strand behind her ear, flashing her glittery fake nails. “There was that fire, right? What a nightmare. Good thing you were able to get out in time.”

Maybe the best way to protect myself is to stay focused on what I’m supposed to be doing for Rowan as part of our arrangement. Why stop at making people think Rowan’s settled down? Why not also make him into a hero? That’s a sure way to help his business. He’s been overdelivering on his side of the bargain. Now it’s my turn.

“It was awful, but Rowan saved me. You know, I might have died if it weren’t for him.”

Casey gasps. “Really?”

“He was the first person to realize there was a fire, and he ran into my house to carry me out. He’s a hero.”

I twist to look at him, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks flustered.

“That’s… Wow.” Casey reaches for my glass of water before she remembers herself and pulls her hand back. “I’m sorry, I just can’t imagine how frightening that must have been. You were lucky Rowan was around.”

I cup his bearded cheek. “So lucky.”

He turns his face and presses a kiss to the inside of my palm. “Feels like I’m the lucky one now that I have you living with me.”

Casey’s brows inch up her forehead. “You’re living together? While the repairs are happening?”

I open my mouth to answer, but Rowan beats me to it. “That’s what she thinks, but I’m determined to convince her to make the move a permanent one.” He squeezes my thigh, as if I’m not breathless enough from just the way he’s ensnared me with his gaze.

“After all, she belongs with me.” The words rumble inside his chest, and something hot twists low in my belly. My pulse travels from the tips of my ears, down to my throat, and keeps moving lower until I feel it between my legs.

Rowan is clearly capable of putting on a performance worthy of an Oscar. He’s so good, I almost believe him.

“Now, Casey,” he says, still holding our eye contact, “if you don’t mind, you’re in my girlfriend’s seat. We’d like to get back to our date.”

In my periphery, I see her get to her feet. She mumbles something apologetic before she hurries away.

Our waitress appears with our meals. I try to get off Rowan’s lap, but he puts pressure on my thighs.

“Stay,” he murmurs into my ear.

“Rowan, we have an audience,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.

“Good.” His lips trace the side of my neck. “I want everyone in this restaurant to know you’re mine, Sunshine.”

My eyes flutter, and I relent.

It’s not because I enjoy the feel of him under me. It’s definitely not because I’m agitated and yet so horribly turned on I want to scream.

People are looking at us, so we might as well act all loved up, right?

I watch him twirl the spaghetti on his fork and lift it to my lips, and I open my mouth like I’m in some kind of a trance.

Jesus. When did I become the kind of woman that lets some man feed her?

But Rowan isn’t just some man. I’m starting to think mind control is one of his many talents, because how else do I explain him managing to get so deep under my skin?

“How’s your back, by the way?” Rowan asks. He puts the fork down and drifts his fingers down my spine before stopping at the spot he massaged a few days ago.

“Better.”

He rubs a circle with his thumb, and I feel an echo of his touch someplace else. My skin’s been buzzing ever since he pulled me onto him, and everything’s more sensitive than normal.

When he rubs another circle, pressing harder this time, I do the most embarrassing thing.

I whimper.

“Fuck,” Rowan mutters in a hoarse voice close to my ear.

That one word kills me. Wetness gathers in my panties. I’m burning up, my entire body feeling like it was just plopped into an inferno.

That’s it. I need to get off his lap.

And so I do. Or at least, I attempt to. As I shift forward to get to my feet, my ass grazes something hard and alarmingly large inside his jeans.

Is that his…

I freeze.

Rowan exhales a low, strained breath. He wraps his palms around my waist, lifts me off him, and helps me back into my chair.

He runs a flustered hand through his hair. When he sees how I’m looking at him, he tugs on his collar. “What?”

“Are you… Are you hard?”

His eyes turn very dark. He reaches for my hand under the table, pulls on it, and puts it right on his lap.

And I feel… All. Of. Him.

“This is how hard you make me.” His voice is pure gravel. “Remember that the next time you’re questioning if I really find you beautiful.”

If someone put a gun to my head right now and demanded I speak, I’d take a bullet to the brain.

Words? What are words? We haven’t met.

He stares at me for a long moment, as if he wants to make sure I heard him.

Oh, I heard him. But I’m mute. Utterly stupefied.

And then the man releases my hand and digs into his pasta like he didn’t just tilt my entire world on its axis.