I pace back and forth in the apartment, trying my best not to get freaked out. When Shane told me last night that he was going with Dominick on a mission to hopefully prevent the war that could ruin the city, I begged him not to go. I was nearly paralyzed with terror that it was a setup by Dominick.

But Shane said that he and Dominick talked things through, and he felt like he needed to back Dom’s play. He also promised he’d be safe before we made love and he left a few new souvenirs along my skin.

But since they left, I’ve been jittery with nerves that I’ll never see him again. Knowing I need to keep busy, I give up pacing and decide to check in with my regular life . . . the one I had before everything went so haywire.

I can’t believe that Dominick’s let me have access to a computer, but he did. After our first night here, I gave Allie my keys, and she went to my apartment, coming back with some clothes and my laptop. Dominick didn’t even ask to go through my files. “Maggie,” he said, “anything you have that you’ve already published can’t be pulled back, and anything you have in there that you could publish, I trust you won’t.” He said it kindly, but the threat was apparent in his simple words.

A quick run through my email deletes most of the spam, but there are several from Jeanine at work. She’s left several voicemails on my phone that were forwarded to my email program too, but after two, I turn them off. It’s best to go straight to the source.

I grab the burner phone Shane left me, dialing into the office and waiting for the receptionist to transfer me to Jeanine’s office line. I get lucky. I’m not left hanging on hold for long.

“Jeanine Matthews.”

“Hi, Jeanine. It’s Maggie. I wanted to call to—”

Before I can even get my greeting out, Jeanine interrupts me, her voice crisp and hard. “You have some nerve calling in like this. You drop off the face of the Earth, don’t return my calls or meet deadlines for nearly a week, and now you just call in? You should’ve just stayed gone.”

She’s mad. Still, some professional instinct guides me to try to patch things up so I’m not leaving under the pall of job abandonment. “Ma’am, I had an emergency and I couldn’t call in or check emails for a while. I’m back now and trying to catch up.”

Jeanine stops her rant, greed tingeing her voice. Toss her a sniff about a headline, and she’d let me get away with murder. “Anything story-worthy?”

If only she knew, but she thinks I’m just a strip-club waitress looking for celebrity gossip. She has no idea about the depth of how things go at Petals, who Dominick is, or any of the things I’ve learned over the last few days. And this is a story I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Dominick’s shown me some trust. I’m not stupid enough to betray that.

“No, just a family emergency.”

It’s not really a lie because the people at Petals are my family now, and while it might take me awhile, I plan on regaining their trust, if that’s possible.

Jeanine sighs, annoyance making her drag it out longer than usual. “Unacceptable, Miss Postland. We have standards, the least of which is that you turn in quality work on time. Abandoning your job and your duties cannot stand. You’re fired,” she jeers, obviously enjoying the opportunity to shut me down. “I wish you all the best in your future waitressing endeavors.”

I’m not surprised. I figured this would be coming, even told Shane as much when we discussed it. But now that it’s real and actually happening, I thought I might be upset. But all I feel is relief . . . free. And it’s a bit funny that she thinks getting fired is such a big deal, considering I’m on the run from a hitman trying to kill me. Losing a crappy job is the least of my concerns.

Instead of laughing like I want, I clear my throat, but still, my voice is light, maybe even hinging on giggly when I respond. “I understand, Jeanine. If you could please have the HR department mail me my last check. My apologies. It’s been interesting working for you.”

It’s as close as I can get to telling her that she’s a shrew whom people mimic at the office. Hanging up, I let the laughter overtake me. “I’m fired!” I cheer as I throw my hands up and laugh uproariously. “Bwahahahaha, I’m actually fired!”

I’m still basically a prisoner for my own safety, but I truly feel free. No more lies—with Jeanine, with Dominick, with Allie, and most importantly, with Shane. Knowing I need to make one more call, I dial my mother, but only to tell her I’m fine, not filling her in on recent events.

Luckily, she wasn’t worried about me, saying she figured I was just busy with work and stuff. It’s hard to imagine, but it’s really only been days since this whole debacle started. It feels like so much longer. So much has happened. So much might happen still. And Mom never has really asked about my job. I think she’s still disappointed I didn’t become an accountant or a lawyer or get some nice office job where I could meet a ‘good man’.

Well, guess what, Mom? I’ve met, bedded, and laid claim to not just a good man, but an amazing man. And if I live another month, who knows where Shane and I will be? We’re moving so fast already.

I feel the smile spread wide across my face, the happiness bubbling out unbidden. I turn the phone off and lay down on the couch, eyes on the door as I wait for Shane to get back.

I have to trust that he and Dominick are going to come back. That I’ll be safe again. That I’ll have a chance to figure out what to do from here. That Shane and I will figure out a way to be together.

I don’t nap, but the time just sort of slips by. Still, when I hear the familiar heavy tread of his footsteps coming up the stairs, I’m waiting for him. “Angel, I’m—”

Shane doesn’t have a chance to finish his greeting as I throw myself across the little apartment, laughing and leaping into his arms to smother his face in kisses. With each smooch, relief and happiness course through me. He wraps his arms around me, picking me up higher and using my momentum to spin us in a circle as we kiss.

It feels like I haven’t seen him in forever, even though it’s only been a few hours. I was just so scared.

Pulling back, Shane looks deep into my eyes. “Damn, Angel. That’s a welcome home I could get used to.”

I smile, kissing him again, softly this time. “I missed you today. I was worried.”

Shane sets me down, cupping my face in his hands. “I told you, we’re gonna be okay. Today was a step in the right direction, and Dominick handled Sal like a boss.”

“A boss?” I ask, and Shane laughs.

“Well, more like The Boss. It went well, and I think we prevented the war. Sal’s guys know what he did, how he tried to manipulate and lie and killed his own son. I don’t imagine them charging into Dominick’s territory after his display today. Hell, half of them probably want to work for Dominick now, and the other half pray they never have to see him again.”

I smile, trying to imagine Dominick as a monster who would make grown men shake in their boots, but I just can’t. Dominick is scary, no doubting that, but he’s civilized and has a code of honor. I can’t picture him getting rough and dirty.

“So, one crisis averted? One to go?”

Shane looks at me, then nods. “Yeah, Angel. For now, all we can do is stay here, wait for intel, and be safe. Dom even found a mole who let the hitman in. It was Nick.”

“Nick? Really?” I ask, disappointed. “He seemed like a nice guy.”

“Maybe he was, but it doesn’t matter,” Shane says, kissing my forehead once. “You’re what matters. We can relax for a bit. Chucky and Dom are both looking into the hitman issue, so we should know something soon, but for now, all we can do is wait.”

He lays his cheek against the top of my head, hugging me close. It’s sweet and comforting, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want to be babied and kept like a fragile doll he’s scared to break.

I want to celebrate that things are getting better—freedom from my job, hope that there won’t be a war—to celebrate this moment as the gift it is.

My cheek pressed to his chest, I reach down, letting my hand roam closer and closer to his waistband. “Well, that’s not all we can do . . .”

Shane looks down at me, and I bite my lip, waiting to see what he says, what he’ll do. He’s searching for something in my eyes, some sign that I’m really okay with everything that’s happening.

I can’t wait any longer for him to decide and force the issue by lifting up to my tiptoes and using his shoulders as leverage to press my mouth to his. I lick the seam of his lips, begging him to open for me as my free hand reaches down to cup him through his pants.

It’s all it takes to wipe away the last of his worries, and it’s the last moment I’m in charge. His tongue presses into my mouth, consuming me as he pulls my hair, tilting my face higher toward him.

A moan escapes me, and Shane answers with a growl. Holding me in his strong arms, he carries me across the room into the living room, but our mouths never break contact. Instead, he’s guided by some form of internal radar or something until he reaches the middle of the room. He sets me down, immediately ripping my long T-shirt over my head and slipping my panties to the floor.

I stand there, naked and wanting as he pulls his clothes off with almost unnatural speed. His cock is hard, reaching toward his belly button, and I can see a drop of clear precum on the head. I want it and unconsciously, I lick my lips as my knees start to bend.

Shane notices and smirks. “You want to taste me again, Angel? It’s yours. I’m yours.”

I drop all the way to my knees and look up at Shane from the floor. “Then give it to me.”

I stick my tongue out as Shane grasps his cock, guiding the tip to my outstretched tongue, and the flavor of the salty drop explodes across my tongue, making me whimper for more. I want to worship him, to show him that he’s my everything.

Shane slides a hand into my hair, holding me still, and slips his tip along my tongue, teasing me, teasing himself as he reads my eyes, nodding. I cover his shaft in little butterfly kisses and lollipop licks until he shudders, his control stretched as far as he can take it. “Fuck, Maggie,” he growls, pulling my hair tighter. “Suck me.”

It’s all the permission I need to take back a bit of control, and I close my lips around him, letting my tongue dance around his slit before bobbing up and down along his shaft, setting a fierce pace.

I hollow my cheeks, sucking him hard and delighting at the sounds I’m drawing from him. I reach up, my fingers digging into the dimples on his powerful ass muscles as I pull him in all the way. He’s mine, and I’m his . . . his loving, worshipful woman who can take all he has.

All too soon, though, he pulls back, squeezing tight at the base of his shaft as he shakes his head. “Not yet. I want to come inside that sweet little pussy.”

I nod, smiling as Shane offers me a hand, helping me rise from his feet and then immediately turning me so that my back is to his front. The entire skin of my back is pressed against him as I look over my shoulder while he cups my breasts. He guides me toward the couch near the wall. It’s big, and when he pushes me over the high arm of the couch, my toes barely reach the floor while he gets me positioned the way he wants.

“Damn, Angel,” Shane says, his voice raspy and heavy with need. “You look so pretty like this, ass up in the air so I can see your wet little pussy, so ready for my cock. Only one thing could make it better.”

I’m squirming, needy, so when he bends down, I expect a nice lick to my soaked core. But that’s not what Shane does, my mouthy, possessive man.

He swipes a thumb through my folds and bites low on my ass, right at the meaty part above my thighs, and the sharp prick of pain blends with the pleasure as he strokes me. I cry out, arching my back for more, but Shane stands, and I look over my shoulder.

He’s licking his thumb, sucking my juices from his skin and moaning at the flavor. “Always so sweet . . . but I think I’m turning you into a dirty girl, Angel.”

“A naughty angel for my devil with a heart of gold. I am a dirty girl, Shane . . . your dirty girl.”

The words set him off, and with a growl, he slams into me balls-deep and immediately begins pumping in and out, hard and fast. I reach back, wanting to feel him piston into me, my nails scratching along the skin of his hips. I can’t see them, but I know I’m marking him too, little pink lines proclaiming him as mine. I dream that maybe those marks will be permanent, maybe something that we can share.

Shane grabs one of my hands, pulling it to my lower back and locking it in place with a tight grip. His other hand twists tightly into my hair, and I’m at his mercy, pinned down and getting fucked. Even to myself, the word sounds filthy, and that turns me on even more. I mewl, whining as I beg him.

“Yes Shane . . . fuck me . . . please . . .”

He pulls me tighter, his voice a low, growling demand. “What did you say?”

I don’t know if he likes it or hates it, and right now, I don’t care because it’s all I can manage to say. “Fuck me, Shane. Fuck. Me. Hard.”

He leans over me, covering my back with his body and pressing me into the couch arm, one hand still trapped between us. “Mmm, my fucking dirty Angel.” He strokes into me again and again, filling and stretching me as I whimper, begging for more. “Come for me.”

He suckles the flesh along my shoulder into his mouth, marking me once again, and I feel pushed harder than ever. His cock is so deep, and I cry out in pleasure and pain.

The moment stretches, both of us on the precipice forever, riding that edge before I fall off, crashing into my orgasm, and Shane comes too, ropes of his hot cum filling me. It drives me more, my pleasure drawing out like a rope too, going on and on as I scream hoarsely. I’m calling out his name and swearing that I’m his as his deep bellow accompanies my cries in a symphony as we finish together.