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

When I wake up, there’s a heavy arm slung over my waist, and a muscular thigh wedged between my legs.

My eyes fly open.

Oh. Oh.

Last night comes back to me in a series of R-rated snapshots.

I bite down on my bottom lip and carefully turn my head to steal a glance at Rowan’s face.

He’s still asleep, thank God.

There’s an ache between my legs, my jaw is sore, and my lips feel puffy and raw.

Well, I know who’s responsible for all that.

After we did it the first time, we did it again. And then once more. It’s like we both couldn’t get enough. The desire that had been building day after day of being in his presence, the desire I’d worked so hard to repress, had become a living, breathing thing, and it wouldn’t rest until it got its fill. My body giving out finally ended things. He was still pulsating inside me, milking the last tremors of my orgasm out of me when my eyelids drifted shut, and I passed out.

It’s not that I had doubts he’d be good in bed. I just hadn’t anticipated that he’d blow my brain to smithereens in the process.

Then again, with the amount of practice he’s had…

A sour taste appears in the back of my throat. So much for not becoming another notch.

I ease myself from under his arm. The clock on the nightstand says it’s almost eight thirty, which means we’re late getting to the office.

Should I wake him up?

I take another look at Rowan’s sleeping face and decide against it. He’s the boss. Surely he can come in late now and then.

And no one’s going to miss me much. Pete came back halfway through last week, so the extra tasks Judy had been giving me to do dwindled to practically nothing.

Carefully, I slip out of bed, grab some clothes, and take them with me to the living room to get dressed.

Not far from the house, there’s a trail that runs through the woods along a narrow creek. When I was younger, Mom would bring me there often. ‘Fresh air and a long walk is the best way to sort out your thoughts,’ she used to say.

I have a lot of thoughts that are in desperate need of sorting, so that’s where I head.

The drive doesn’t take more than fifteen minutes despite the fresh layer of snow on the road. When I get out of the car, cold air bites at my face. I tuck my scarf into my coat and zip it all the way up before slipping on a pair of gloves I found in one of the pockets. My car’s the only one in the lot, and there’s something comforting about the absolute solitude.

I walk toward the entrance to the trail and turn right at the fork.

Here, the world seems hushed and contemplative. Silence reigns, disturbed only by the occasional chirp of a bird or the creak of a branch. I inhale crisp air and focus on the crunching of my shoes on the snow.

A sigh escapes past my lips.

What now? I wish I could lose myself in the current that swept me off my feet last night and simply see where it takes me. But that’s a recipe for getting hurt, and after what happened with Brett, I’m not ready to risk that again.

I can keep my heart safe if I manage to get my head back on straight and remember one important thing—I can’t fall for Rowan.

It’s just that I wasn’t expecting the very real connection between him and me. A physical connection—yes, but it’s not only that. He’s funny. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel like I’m someone who matters. But do I really think I’m the one who’s going to get him to abandon his old ways when it comes to women?

No, I don’t.

It doesn’t matter that admitting that makes my chest sting. I need to be practical. Rational.

There’s a big difference between sleeping with someone once and wanting to be in a relationship with them. Even if Rowan likes me more than his typical one-night stand, him saying that he might be interested in something more serious isn’t something I’m able to trust.

That man isn’t looking for commitment. He wasn’t looking for it with all those women he slept with before me, and he’s not going to be looking for it with me.

But what am I looking for?

I’ve never thought of myself as someone who could keep things casual with a man I’m interested in. I fall too hard, care too much.

But what if I could figure out how to not do that this time around?

After all, I’m still planning on leaving Darkwater Hollow. Rowan and I have an expiration date, and he’s as aware of it as I am.

It might take anywhere from a few weeks to a few months to sell my place once I put it back on the market, but Nicole got me one offer, and I’m confident she’ll be able to do it again.

Which means my plans didn’t get demolished, just delayed.

I stop by the bank of the creek and peer down at the glassy surface. The once-flowing waters are now still beneath the ice. There’s an orange leaf frozen there, suspended in space and time, just like me. But when the weather warms, it’ll keep moving.

I’ve had plenty of time to think about my next steps since the fire, but the truth is, I’ve barely thought about them at all. When I try to imagine my future, all I find are muddled images.

It’s time to change that.

Yes, I have to push myself to figure out what I’m going to do after I leave Darkwater Hollow. The only way I can get through the next few months without getting too wrapped up in that man is if I can stay focused on my future and remember that whatever is happening with Rowan and me is temporary.

I won’t make the same mistake I made with Brett. I won’t buy into a fantasy of something serious with Rowan only to have it ripped away from me. I know better.

I have to be ready to leave when the time’s right. I’ll be the one walking away.

By the time I make it back to the house, I’m calmer, more centered. I feel like I can let myself have this time with Rowan as long as I have my exit plan in place.

Inside the house, I go in search of him. I find him in the bedroom, still in bed.

Propping my shoulder against the doorframe, I can’t resist soaking all of him in.

My eyes trace over the rounded shapes of his biceps, the washboard abs, the V that disappears beneath the sheet that’s bunched around his hips… He’s a masterpiece. A masterpiece I get to enjoy until I leave.

Shouldn’t that be enough? I won’t ruin it by longing for something more.

“Why are you up so early?”

I glance at his face. He’s awake, looking at me with hooded, sleepy eyes.

I smile, hoping the pang of sadness in my chest isn’t reflected on my face. “Early? It’s past ten. Aren’t you late for work?”

A lazy grin tugs on his lips. “I told Sam I’m not coming in today. Come back to bed, baby.”

And so I do exactly that.