Ghosted (Team Zero #3) by Rina Kent

Godfather again. Kyle is younger, but Julian isn’t that old. I’d guess early to mid-thirties. “Why do you call him Godfather?”

“He saved me.” His eyes warm, and he appears lost somewhere beyond reach. “I wouldn’t be here if he weren’t a father figure to me.”

The confession strikes deep within me. Kyle seems so genuine and grateful. Julian must’ve made a difference in his life. That puts Julian in an entirely different light. Even if he shouldn’t have thrust his Godson into this type of hell.

Seeming to realise where he is, Kyle’s hands drop from my cheeks and he steps back. His face is closed, for the first time since I met him. “Godfather isn’t an idiot.”

I nod, unsure why he’s repeating it.

He shakes his head and goes back to the easy playful smile. “Grand to see ye well, love.” He touches my cheek one more time and heads to the stairs, leading to the control room.

I’m still pondering the abrupt change when strong hands pull me by the arm. My reflexes shoot. I swing back. Instead of punching whoever yanked me, my fist ends up in a palm.

Julian’s palm.

He’s in a white shirt that showcases the sublime lines of his agile waist. Even his sleeves are rolled up to underneath his elbows. My mouth waters when I make out the strong veiny arms covered in black ink. Sketch-like lines swirl together and disappear under the bandages around his wrist. But I still can’t get a full view of the tattoos. Do they even have a meaning?

Realising that I’ve been ogling – freaking again – and that he’s still holding my arm and my fist, I snap my eyes to his.

Impassive, unreadable features meet me.

I’m momentarily paralysed. He drags me to a back storage room, shuts the door, and pushes me against it. My back hits the wood, and my body springs to life.

My breathing hitches as he leans close, too close, that I’m breathing his intoxicating air. My chest is inches away from grazing his.

My gaze gets lost in his dark one. It’s like being sucked whole in their raw intensity. I draw in a stuttering breath. He’s tall and broad and I’m so small in comparison.

I dislike feeling small.

Self-perseverance kicks in. I break eye contact and try to escape from under his merciless hold.

Julian yanks both my wrists with one strong hand and slams them above my head against the wood. The feel of his skin against mine almost causes my body to tingle. His face is only a few inches away. A slight deviation of my head and my lips would meet his. Would they taste as sinful as they look?

Where on earth did that thought come from?

I glue myself against the door, willing my body to blend with it. And I hate, hate, to admit this, but I’m about to start hyperventilating. Dammit.

Julian’s eyes darken further until the golden rings are suffocated. It’s the level of darkness I haven’t witnessed from him before. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

And cursing. He never cursed before.

“Working,” I say as calmly as my quivering state allows. And it’s not anger, dammit. Just seeing his raw energy and being close to him causes the insides of my thighs to quiver. My nipples peak against the dress until it’s painful.

Something tells me it has nothing to do with handsome men in general and more to do with him specifically.

“Didn’t I say you’re to stay at the safe house?” His hold tightens around my wrists. All I feel is him. His power. His raw freaking masculinity.

“I can’t just decorate your room, Julian. I’m not a statue.”

Surprise passes through his eyes. “I’m seeing that clearly, Firefly.”

I can’t believe this man. Does he think he can order people around and they would do as they’re told?

“Let me go back to work.” More importantly, he needs to release me. He’s so casual about touching me – all the freaking time – and I’m starting to get used to that. Worse, I’m starting to look forward to it.

“You like flirting out there?” he asks in that deep, authoritative tone.

“What if I do?” I jut out my chin. No idea why I’m pushing his buttons, but he’s mysteriously pushing mine. It’s only fair that I do the same.

Which is so freaking stupid. I’m supposed to free myself and run out of here, not provoke him.

I don’t get a warning. Julian’s leg pushes mine apart and his knee settles close to the throbbing between my legs. I gasp. A foreign sensation shoots in my veins. It’s so similar to excitement and ...thrill. The sensations I only had while boxing. Only now, I have zero control over what’s happening.

My stomach flips like it’s contracting and the heavy sensation in my nipples becomes torturous.

“You need to stop, Firefly.” Julian breathes against my heated cheeks. The rumble of his voice causes my legs to freaking tremble. “You’re in danger, so act like someone who’s in danger.”

“What do you want me to do?” I choke out, trying to appear casual. “Hide beneath the blankets? I’m not the type, all right?”

“Obviously.” His free hand cages my face, and I can’t look away from the fire gleaming in his eyes. His warm thumb strokes my bottom lip. A strangled moan lodges at the back of my throat.

No idea what the hell is happening, but I don’t think I can stop myself. I’m damn sure he can see my pulse jumping from my neck.