Page 15 of Targeted By Fate
“No way,” he scoffed. “But is that your job? Taking down bad guys.”
Shit. I hadn’t prepared for the question. Telling a mate that I was mafia, my whole family was part of organized crime, that had been a big deal. And now it sounded like maybe he didn’t fully remember. Gods, I hated drugs and what they had done to my mate.
“On TV, guys like you are?—”
“Mafia.” I blurted it out because my wolf was nudging me to be honest. Keane would have to decide if being my mate trumped that. Being mafia wasn’t a job. It was who I was, and it was intertwined with being a shifter.
My mate nodded. “I kinda suspected.”
I let his words hang in the air. It was up to him to speak up, and I had to count the seconds until he did. One, two, three. Gods, why was he taking so long?
“If someone had told me my mate was mafia, I would have cowered, thinking I’d be hiding from possible assassins 24/7 if we were together.”
I sensed a but coming, and not waiting for Keane to say it, I piped up. “But?”
He grinned, and that smile gave me hope. “You’re not known for your patience, are you?”
“Not really.”
“The mating pull is so strong, I’m willing to accept your way of life with conditions.”
I had to ask. “What are those?”
“That you allow me to come with you when you get the rest of those fuckers.” He punched the air and mimed shooting a gun. “I’ve never owned a gun, but I could learn.” He added that cats weren’t much use in a war unless it was with other cats or dogs. “I’ve had standoffs with dogs.”
“I should call the doctor.”
“Because I fought dogs? I don’t have rabies.” Keane screwed up his nose. “And if you’re referring to that asshat who suggested I might be a drug addict, could I take a pass?”
“Ummm. We could see another doctor.” If my mate was pissed at the guy, I was too, even though I had thought the same thing. Hmmm, I’d better be honest before we started our relationship. “He’s not the only one. An asshat. I wondered that too.”
My mate shrugged. “It was a reasonable assumption.” He purred, and my body tingled. “But he’s not my sexy mafia mate, so I forgive you but not him.”
Shoot, I was going to come in my pants if he kept talking.
“We should call him.” I had to change the subject or my pants would split and my dick would bound out.
“You do that.” Keane licked around his lips.
I turned my back on my mate, trying to stop my heart from racing and my length from swelling. The doctor said to see him in twenty-four hours to make sure the drug was no longer in Keane’s system.
“Oh, whatever shall we do while we’re waiting.”
8
KEANE
I lay on the bed, wondering how I managed to be near him this long without begging him to take me. The pull was so strong, stronger than I’d ever felt before. There was still so much to figure out, like where I’d gotten the drugs. Had it really been while I was looking for a job at that club or bar, and if so, why hadn’t it hit me earlier? My mind should’ve been on all of that, but it wasn’t.
My mind was on Boaz’s mouth, what lay beneath his clothing, and why his hands weren’t already on me. I licked my lips, wondering where to go from here. Should I make the first move? Should he? Should we wait for the doctor after all?
He answered for me, moving his body so that he was hovering over mine, so close and yet so unbearably far away. He stayed there like that, leaving me breathless with need, his lips only a few inches from my own.
“Please.” I didn’t even pretend to have restraint. I wanted him, needed him, now.
His lips crashed into mine, raw and fervent. My mouth moved with his, and I arched, inviting him closer, helpless against the mating pull, my slick entrance begging for attention.
I gripped his shoulders, not willing to let him leave. “Boaz,” I gasped, barely a whisper.
