Beyond Addiction (35 page)

“Yeah?”

“I want you on my skin, too.”

No more walls. Relief flooded her along with dizzy joy. The marks were like the ring, a symbol—a way to tell each other
and
the world that they were building a life. That walking away wasn’t an option, and they knew they were so much less apart than they were together.

Words couldn’t express how she felt, so she kissed him instead.

Finn groaned, spearing his fingers into her hair, tangling them deep as he licked past her lips and into her mouth, as he claimed her more surely with one kiss than he ever had with words.

All the talking, and it always came down to this—they needed each other more than anything else in the world. They’d been torn apart and thrown back together, but underneath all the machinations of Fate, one fact remained.

They belonged in each other’s arms.

“You and me,” she whispered against his lips. “Forever.”

Trix’s new act was bringing down the damn house.

Watching from the side of the stage didn’t give Finn the best view, but it was his favorite. Especially when the dance ended and she hopped into his arms, her eyes full of fire and her body already hungry.

She was winding toward that point now, tugging down the zipper running up the side of her leather pants. She started slow, then almost ripped it away, and another round of cheers rose from the crowd.

No feathers and fans tonight. She was pure O’Kane, leather and steel and an edge of danger that would slice up any man who got too close. It was intoxicating, especially when she tilted back her head and Finn caught sight of his ink wrapped around her throat. Ace was a true fucking artist—from this distance, she could have been wearing the choker he’d tattooed onto her skin.

She reached for the other zipper but lingered with her fingers on the tab. She rolled her head back, those wild red curls spilling over her shoulders, and met his eyes.

Then she licked the corner of her mouth.

Arousal stirred. So did his dick. She knew he was watching, and he knew what that meant. Her performance would be hotter. Wilder. Every grinding thrust, every tease designed to taunt him.

If she pounced on him when she came off that stage, they’d end up in the closet again. Judging from the predatory look in her eyes,
she
wouldn’t be the one tied up this time.

There were worse ways to kill an afternoon than letting his lady have her way with him.

Trix stripped off her pants and threw them. The leather landed in a heap at Finn’s feet, and he bit back a grin. Yeah, she was coming for him, all right.

She dropped to her knees, rocking her body as the song wound to a close. Crumpled dollar bills hit the lip of the stage, along with more than a few credit sticks. The lights cut out as the music ended with a heavy bass beat, and the noise of the audience’s reaction almost drowned out the sound of her heels as she walked off stage.

And straight for him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his in the darkness. “Did you like it?”

Like was a weak-ass word. It didn’t come close to getting the job done. Most words didn’t, so he slid his hands under her ass and lifted her so he could nuzzle the ink that said it all. “I think I like you showing off your dangerous side.”

“Sometimes.” The lights came up again as stagehands began to prep for another show, and she gasped and trailed her fingers down to his upper arm. “Ace finished the color.”

He glanced at his right arm and smiled. The new sleeve had been taking form over the past two weeks, joining up with his—as Ace so bluntly put it—inferior artwork and stretching down to his new cuff. “Yeah,” he said, holding it out so she could admire the ink.

So she could admire
herself
. Ace had worked magic, designing a likeness of her posed as a classic pinup, covered by her peacock-feather fan—and nothing else. “I like having you on my skin.”

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. Then her brow furrowed, and she laughed. “Is it weird to say that? It feels a little vain.”

“Better you than some lug in the bar,” Finn replied, fighting to keep his voice deadly serious. It was hard, because he wanted to smile. He was smiling all the damn time now, like he was strung out on Sector Five’s finest happy pills. “They get too complimentary, I’ll just have to punch them in the teeth.”

“Liar. You love it.” She nipped at his lower lip. “You love
me
.”

“Damn right I do.” With her ear so close to his mouth, it was too easy. He gave it a little tug with his teeth, just to get her squirming, and laughed. “Wanna go sully the storage closet again?”

“Christ, yes.” She wiggled against him, sliding her hands beneath his shirt. “I can’t wait to get you naked. Or half naked. Or shove your clothes out of the way. Whatever works.”

“Hit the brakes, Red.” Bren snagged her silky green robe from the hook by the dressing room door and held it up. “Your boy’s got work to do.”

Finn groaned. “Are you kidding me, Bren?”

“Nope.” Mad leaned against the wall and grinned with a friendly ease Finn wouldn’t have expected a few weeks ago. Mad’s warmness seemed to grow in proportion to Jade’s delight in his latest updates to her roof garden. If it would keep the peace, Finn would help her grow a jungle. “Welcome to life as an O’Kane,” Mad continued. “Sometimes we play, and sometimes we bust heads.”

Sighing, Finn looked back to Trix. “Sorry, baby. I guess I’m busting heads.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get a drink with the girls.” She leaned in to whisper against his ear. “I’ll keep the pearls handy, though.”

The mental image that conjured threatened to weaken his knees. But beneath it was something so much more precious—her confidence and trust. She could let him walk away, even if a job might earn him a few bruises, because she believed he was coming back to her.

He still wasn’t sure he deserved it. After all, it was more than a second chance. It was a woman putting her heart into his hands, though he’d dropped it the last time. It was Trix giving him more than a family or a home or her love.

She believed in him. So he’d spend the rest of his life not letting her down.

Her body dragged against his in a hundred delicious ways as he lowered her to the floor, and he swallowed another groan. Tonight would be a good lesson in the frustrations and rewards of delayed gratification. Hopefully, she’d have mercy on him.

But if she didn’t, that was okay, too. Even if she didn’t let him come fast, he’d always come home.

Want to find out what Zan's going to do with his second chance at life? The story continues with
Beyond Possession
!

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    ,
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    ,
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    , ,
    #4: Beyond Jealousy
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    #5: Beyond Addiction
    ,
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    ,
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    ,
    #4.5: Beyond Solitude
    ,
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    ,
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    Each novella focuses more closely on a single couple, and is meant to be accessible to new readers. You can read a novella without knowing the series well.
    
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Not ready to leave Sector Four? Turn the page for a preview of what's next for the O'Kanes...

Tatiana Stone has worked hard to establish herself as one of Sector Four's most skilled crafters. All she wants is peace--but the sins of her father haunt her. He ruled the sector as a petty tyrant before the O'Kane takeover, and plenty of people harbor bitter memories of his cruelty. Especially now that Tatiana’s beloved baby sister has fallen in with a man who wants to start a revolution.

Zan failed his boss once, and it won't happen again. So when Dallas O'Kane asks him to defuse the rebellion brewing in the sector, he’ll do whatever it takes to get the job done--including seduce Tatiana. It’s the perfect opportunity to get closer to the pretty crafter and complete his mission. But what he discovers is a fiery, passionate woman--and an affair that could destroy them both.

The monthly meeting of Sector Four's merchants was going about as well as Tatiana expected, which was a bad sign. Life in the sectors had taught her to lower her expectations bit by bit until her bar for decent behavior ended up in the dirt.

That didn't stop people from digging under it.

Holding the shovel today was Wallace, a morality-impaired smuggler turned trader. He'd been digging himself into holes since he'd claimed Walt Misham's spot in the market and the sheen of respectability that came with it. Stupid, but not unusual. Criminals who climbed too high got greedy, and greedy criminals got dumb. A dangerous problem, but self-correcting. In Sector Four, getting dumb usually got you dead.

Wallace's inevitable demise wouldn't have bothered Tatiana at all if her baby sister hadn't decided to fall cross-eyed in love with him.

"It isn't right," he was saying. "O'Kane gets in some kind of sector war, smashes up half the market district, and who has to clean it up? Not him, that's for damn sure."

A few people muttered agreement. Halfway around the circle of chairs, Pam tilted her head slightly, her gaze picking out each person, probably memorizing the grumbles. The O'Kanes' new office assistant stopped by Pam's coffee cart every morning for cinnamon rolls and gossip, so chances were good that every word they uttered would be repeated to Dallas O'Kane by noon tomorrow.

That was why Tatiana kept her mouth shut. Hell, sometimes she didn't even go to the meetings. But it had been her turn to host the gathering, squeezing as many extra chairs as possible into the front room that served as her storefront, so she hadn't exactly had a choice.

Of course Wallace had picked
tonight
to stir up trouble.

Across the room, Stuart stood and crossed both well-muscled arms across his leather vest. "Yeah, a few stands got damaged. If you lost so much, take it up with whoever comes to collect your payment. O'Kane's reasonable if you deal fairly with him."

Wallace snorted. "Maybe with you, Stuart. You keep him rolling in leather and whips, and he keeps you ass-deep in money and credits. The rest of us aren't so lucky."

"We're all lucky," Stuart responded flatly. "We're lucky because we have it so good, we have the luxury to bitch about
things
. You know how many of us used to die whenever Stone got in a brawl over territory?"

Now the uncomfortable gazes swung Tatiana's way. Some were sympathetic, but others echoed the tense hint of accusation in Stuart's voice. Matthew Stone had died years ago, put into the ground by Dallas O'Kane in the fight that had won him leadership of Sector Four.

Tatiana was still paying for his crimes. For a place hell-bent on rejecting Eden's moral dogma, sometimes Sector Four was damn invested in visiting the sins of the father on his children.

But this time it was worse. Everyone in this room knew that Catalina was living with Wallace. Tatiana could stay silent and be damned by association, or speak up and further damage her fragile bond with her sister. Wallace would make sure of it. He'd twist any words she spoke against him into weapons and use them as proof that Tatiana was trying to drive them apart.