Kissed by Shadows: A Forced Proximity Dark Mafia Romance (The Shadowmen Book 1)
Kissed by Shadows: Chapter 16

Despite my teasing, some urgent and unavoidable Shadow’s business takes Hunter and the twins away for the next couple of days, so we don’t get to try out the new toys after all. I’m far from alone though, Dayton keeping me company both days and nights and at least two other gang members outside the front door at all times.

I’m actually grateful that the guys are gone because it gives me the chance to just breathe and take stock. It’s been a crazy few days, and the space provides a much-needed downtime where I can think about everything that’s happened.

Plus the opportunity to work on my various knitting projects, which I completed by the time they come strolling back into the flat, bringing in the freezing winter air and looking all kinds of delicious.

“Princess!” Roman practically yells in excitement, rushing over to me and picking me up in his strong arms. “Fuck, I missed you.”

My legs wrap around his hips instinctively, my arms around his neck as he pulls me close, and then his lips crash down on mine in a bruising kiss that steals my very breath from my lungs. I don’t even think about it, just kiss him back, inhaling his sunshine, my entire body sinking into him.

Warmth at my back has a gasp leaving my lips, and then my face is being turned from Roman’s, a growl sounding in his chest as Rowan claims my lips. Roman refuses to let me go as his twin dominates the kiss, his lips cold and yet burning as he kisses me like I’m the last breath of air he’s going to get.

A part of me knows that this is crazy, that it’s probably some kind of messed-up Stockholm Syndrome and that I shouldn’t be letting them kiss me like this, never mind hold me like this after less than a week.

But my heart doesn’t give a shit about any of that, and neither does Evangeline, who’s one step away from using Roman’s washboard abs as some kind of grinder.

“Missed you too, Little Lamb,” Rowan whispers against my lips, and I blink my eyes open to find him studying me in that way he does, drinking every reaction of mine in.

“Any trouble?” Hunter asks as he strides into the room, his question for Dayton, who’s standing in front of the sofa where he was seated, helping me to wind some yarn into a ball before I got up to get a drink just as the guys arrived back.

“All quiet, boss,” Dayton replies, his face adorably serious. “I stayed overnight like you ordered, and there’s been no attempt at getting her, not even someone trying to get on the estate.”

“Good job, Bubby,” Hunter says, slapping him on the back in an older brother kind of way. “Take a day or two off.”

“Thanks, boss.” Dayton blushes and his cheeks become redder when he looks over at me. I wiggle in Roman’s hold, but he just pulls me closer while also managing to smack my arse. “Uh, see you around, Iris.”

“See you soon, Dayton.” I smile, giving him a small wave and a what-can-you-do-with-alphas shrug. He chuckles, saying goodbye to the guys before grabbing the jet-black scarf I knitted him and then heading out of the door.

Hunter finally turns his gaze to me, checking me over like he needs to make sure Dayton’s report is accurate. “Hello, Peaches.”

A shiver makes its way across my skin at the sound of his deep voice calling me the nickname that he doesn’t use for anyone else.

“Hello, Daddy,” I tease, my core tightening as his nostrils flare, his eyes filling with a banked heat that promises all kinds of fun.

“He really likes when you call him that, sweetheart,” Roman whispers against my ear, and my nerves light up, tingles racing across my skin as his hot breath fans over me. “He likes taking care of us all, like our Daddy should.”

“Oh!” I gasp, clearly taking Roman by surprise because he lets me down as I unwind my legs. “I have something for you.”

Hunter’s brows dip and I hurry over to the sofa to rummage in my project bag.

“For me?” he asks just as I pull out the scarf I finished yesterday for him. It’s a mottled green, from the deepest emerald to a bright grass green with a hint of neon.

“This one is, yes.” I beam, striding over to him and holding it out. “None of you dress properly for winter so I made you a scarf to keep you warm.”

I swallow as his brows dip further, his eyes darting from the scarf to my face and back again.

“You knitted me a scarf?” he asks, his voice quiet, and there’s a thickness to it that makes my breath catch.

“To keep you warm,” I say again, going up on my tiptoes and wrapping it around his neck. My point about them not dressing properly is proven by the worn leather jacket he wears with only a hoodie underneath. It’s January for fuck’s sake. “I made you each one.”

I place a kiss on his cheek, his slight stubble rough on my lips. Lowering back down on my feet, I start to twist, intending on getting the twins theirs when Hunter’s arm comes out and circles my waist. I gasp as he pulls me close so not a breath of air lies between us, our fronts pressed together.

“No one has ever taken the time to make something for me, Peaches,” he tells me, his voice gruff as his eyes drink me in, causing a fever to burn under my skin. “Or even really cared if I was cold.”

“I care,” I whisper, my hands coming up to tie the scarf in a knot. “Can’t have you catching your death out there, lord knows there’s probably enough people after you that you need every advantage you can get.” He huffs a laugh but doesn’t deny it, and something inside my chest twists. I don’t like the idea that he, or the twins, are in danger. That the average life expectancy of a gang member is so young. Hunter has already passed it and the twins have reached it. I googled and it made me nauseous to see the low number.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice revenant as he cups my cheek before lowering his cold lips to mine.

My entire body relaxes into him, my hands sliding up his neck and into the back of his soft hair. He groans into my mouth, demanding entry with his tongue, and I open for him, my heart beating fast as he immediately deepens the kiss. There are no half measures with Hunter because he dives straight in and takes what he wants. I swear my knees go weak at the first stroke of his tongue against mine, his arm a steel band around me as he kisses me like I’m the answer to every question he’s ever had.

After what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away, both of us panting as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

“You’re welcome,” I breathe out, a boyish grin transforming his face into something so beautiful that my heart skips a beat, my lips tingling.

“Can I get mine now?” Roman whines from behind me, and I giggle while stepping out of Hunt’s embrace. He lets me go, reluctantly, and I walk back over to my bag, pulling out the deep chocolate brown of Roman’s scarf and the mottled amber brown of Rowan’s.

“Here you go,” I say, turning to find Roman right there, practically bouncing on his toes. “Impatient boy!”

“Hunt’s right, no one ever gave enough of a shit to make us anything,” Roman tells me, his laughing eyes dimming, and there’s a pang inside my chest at seeing his past trauma dull his light.

“Well, I’ll make you lots more if you like? I can do hats, gloves, jumpers, though they take a bit longer,” I reply, tying the scarf around his neck.

“It’s so soft,” he whispers, scrunching it between his fingers while looking down at it and then back up at me. “Thank you, Princess. And I want all the knitted stuff. Please.”

He swoops down and smacks a kiss against my still-tingling lips before quickly stepping aside so I can give Rowan his scarf.

“Thank you, Little Lamb,” Rowan murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine even as he copies his brother and runs his hands over the soft wool.

“Well, make sure you wear them when you go out,” I tell them, glancing around at all three of them, my gaze settling back on Rowan. My brows dip as my chest tightens. “I hate that you’re in danger sometimes, I was worried the whole time you were gone.”

The usually harsh planes of Rowan’s face soften, his fingertips coming up to stroke my cheek as he eliminates the space between us.

“It’s the life we lead, Little Lamb. We’ve been in danger our whole lives,” he gently tells me, and my eyes sting.

“I wish it wasn’t like that,” I sigh, our gazes locked, his a swirling storm of amber, from darkest molasses to the palest honey.

“We all do,” Roman states, his body pressing up against mine from behind. The warmth is both comforting and devastating, because one day it might not be there, and my soul fractures at the thought, regardless of how little time has passed since I met them. “But, at least this way we have a chance and we can protect those we care about.”

His arms come around me, and I rest my head on Rowan’s chest, closing my eyes and listening to his heart rhythmically thudding inside his chest through his hoodie. The softness of the scarf I knitted tickles my cheek, his arms wrapping around me above his brother’s and pulling me into him.

“How can this feel like this?” I whisper, my eyes opening to find Hunter staring at us, his face full of softness. “How can the thought of any of you getting hurt be so painful?”

The only other person I’ve felt this way with was, is, Nikolai. But I’ve known him for years. We built up a friendship first before the other feelings came. With these guys, it’s been so quick my head is bloody spinning.

“I don’t know, Peaches,” Hunter confesses, taking a few steps towards us and closing the distance until his hand can cup my cheek that’s not pressed against Rowan. “But I do know that you are ours now, that there was no way I was going to let Petrov take you the other night, and that we will protect you with our lives if need be.”

“I don’t want you to die.” My voice is choked as tears fill my eyes and my vision swims. I don’t know why I’m so sad all of a sudden. Maybe it was looking up the life expectancy of gang members, or the fact that they’ve been gone for a couple of days. All I know is that the idea that they might not walk through that door one day leaves me breathless, panic clawing at my insides.

“And we won’t let them hurt you,” Hunter tells me, not refuting my worry that they may one day die. The lives they lead aren’t kind, they’re full of danger and enemies who’ll shoot you in the face or stab you in the back without a moment’s hesitation. It’s a danger they can’t outrun forever. “For now, let’s eat and chill.”

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, my eyes closing and causing the tears to spill down my cheeks as I soak in their nearness, because who knows how long it will last.

ROMAN

I catch the eye of my twin, seeing my feelings reflected back at me. It’s no different when I glance at Hunt. We’ve all fallen for this beautiful woman, hook, line, and sinker. When she pulled the scarf out for Hunter, telling us she’d made one each to keep us warm, my heart fucking skipped several beats.

Growing up, we barely had winter coats, let alone anything as luxurious as a scarf. We’ve come a long way from those days of being cold and near starving, but I guess we just learned to live without. It’s why Hunter was so appalled at how much she’d spent, even though we have enough money not to have to worry and be able to afford all the nice things we’d like, the habit of making do is ingrained.

The soft scarf is warm around my neck—I’m never taking it off—as Hunter steps away, his eyes tracing over Iris like she hung the moon. She might as well have because I agree with her. It’s scary as hell how quickly we all feel so strongly about each other, but if this life has taught me anything, it’s that there is no point in waiting on anything because today might be your last.

“I’ll go make us something to eat,” Hunt declares, giving Iris a final lingering look with his eyes before heading into the kitchen.

I feel the deep sigh as it leaves her lungs, my arms tightening as I press my own kiss to the back of her head. She smells delicious, like honey and chocolate, like when she first came to us, so I assume she ordered some of her body wash and shampoo.

“So, can you tell me what you guys got up to the past couple of days, or is it super secret squirrel shit?” she asks, clearly still more than happy to remain in our arms. I don’t intend on moving anytime soon, she feels too good between my brother and I. We’ve shared girls before in the bedroom, we all have, but we’ve never shared anyone who really meant anything. Though looking into Rowan’s eyes, I know neither of us is letting her go, so I guess we’ll get used to it. I chuckle at her super secret squirrel shit comment.

“We just had to sort some shit out,” I tell her, not sure if I want her involved in anything to do with the Shadows. Not because I don’t trust her, I mean, she’s not exactly going anywhere to tell anyone anything, but because it will put her in even more danger than she already is. The association with us doesn’t just come with protection. She’s now got a target on her back as much as we do. Maybe more so if anyone finds out how deep our feelings already run. It’s why we were doubly grateful for her help with getting Willow out, the distance protects her somewhat, and the fact that she has the protection of the Black Knights even more so.

She shuffles and I step back, stripping my jacket off before throwing it over the back of the sofa next to us and sitting down on it. Then I pull her onto my lap, her squeak of surprise just too fucking adorable, so I nuzzle her neck, loving the way her body sinks into mine like she knows it’s exactly where she belongs.

“Dick,” Rowan grumbles, taking off his jacket and chucking it to join mine, then falling into the seat next to us. He pulls her feet onto his lap, smirking when he notices her fluffy pink socks.

“Shut up, my feet get cold,” she complains, but there’s no heat to her words as she snuggles into my lap. My chest heats at the way she’s so comfortable with us, that she’s not fighting this thing between us either. She lets out a small moan when he starts to massage them, his thumbs pushing into her arches, reminding me he’s got more game than I realised as she breathes out a sexy as fuck sigh. “Fuck, that feels amazing, Rowan.”

His lips stay in a smile, which is fucking unusual for Rowan, as he keeps going, all her squirming making blood start to fill my dick which is right under her peachy arse. “So, Princess, what are you working on now?” I ask, wanting to know more about what she does in her downtime and distract myself from the lust that’s running in my veins. Time for that later. I’ve never met anyone who created with their own hands, not like she does, making something out of nothing.

A cute blush steals across her cheeks. “I saw from the balcony that some of the children on the estate don’t have scarves or hats, so I’m making some child-sized ones for them.”

Knowing that she’s taking care of our people does something to me that I can’t explain, but my chest feels like it expands to twice its normal size. We try to do the best we can by them, keep them fed and their parents and older siblings in work, but shit like that just doesn’t even occur to us, given we never had anything like it.

“You really are something special,” I mumble thickly, my throat tight as I pull her against me even more and kiss her head again. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of having her in my arms, my lips against some part of her. “Let us know if you need any more string, or if you think they need anything else.”

“Yarn.” She laughs and pulls back to look at me, her face fucking glowing. “It’s called yarn, and with my last order, I’ve got quite a bit to get on with.” She tilts her head to the side, thinking for a moment. “Maybe I could set up a little craft club for them? Teach some of them how to knit, or just craft with them. I was pretty good at art at school.”

“There’s the community centre,” Rowan adds, and she turns to look at him, her eyes shining bright as excitement fills her face. “It’s where the gym is, but there’s some spare rooms that mostly sit empty.”

She twists to face me and it’s like the sun bursting through the clouds on a cold winter day. “Do you think Hunter would let me?”

“Let you do what, Peaches?” the man himself asks as he strolls in, a tea towel slung over his shoulder.

She climbs off my lap, going around the sofa to him, and I have to hide the twitch of my lips when she widens her eyes a bit while pressing herself up against him. Well played, Princess. Well fucking played. “I want to start up a craft club for the kids on the estate. Rowan says there are some rooms at the community centre I could use.”

The man doesn’t stand a chance, swallowing as she practically bats her lashes at him.

He rubs the back of his neck and I can see he’s already going to agree by the pained look on his face. “I suppose as long as one of us is with you—” He doesn’t get to finish as she launches herself at him with a delighted squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss. Lucky bastard.

“Thank you!” she enthuses, releasing him, and the poor guy looks shell-shocked. “I’ll need to order some craft bits, paper, scissors…oh, and glitter! Everything’s better with glitter, don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure…” he agrees, completely blinded by her, not that I can blame him. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone. “Order what you need, Peaches.”

She takes it, fucking beaming up at him and a flare of jealousy hits me in the chest. I want her to look at me like that, and I bet she did the same when Rowan gave her permission to order all the stuff that was delivered.

“I can take you down to the centre tomorrow to have a look and see which room would work best if you like?” I say, her head snapping up from Hunt’s phone to stare at me, her jaw slack.

“You mean I can leave the flat?” she asks, and my stomach tightens as I struggle to maintain eye contact.

“You’re not a prisoner, it’s just not safe out there for you, Peaches,” Hunt says softly, a frown on his face as his gaze slides away from her. Clearly, he’s feeling a tad guilty too.

“But I can leave tomorrow? With Roman?” she asks while looking back up at him, not addressing her status here, which makes me feel even more shitty. Does she think we’d keep her here against her will unless it was absolutely necessary?

He reaches out and smoothes some hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Of course, as long as you stay on the estate and have one of us with you, you’re free to leave the flat anytime.”

“Thank you, Hunt.” Her tone is soft as she goes on tiptoes and presses a swift kiss to his mouth. “How long until we eat?”

“About half an hour, I made enchiladas,” he tells her, and my dick hardens even more as she licks her plush lips.

“Yum. I love Mexican food, and the culture is amazing too. When Dad and I went there a couple of years ago, the sheer amount of colour and pattern was like a feast for the eyes wherever you looked.”

I’m reminded of how different our pasts are. How she grew up in the lap of luxury, visiting far-off lands and experiencing all the beauty that the world has to offer. We couldn’t be more different, our world countless shades of grey and black, filled with cries that we soon learned went unanswered.

And yet, we all ended up here regardless, in a flat in one of the biggest estates in London. It’s almost like waking up one day to find an exotic bird has flown in your window. It’s so beautiful, so full of life and colour that it makes everything seem brighter somehow.

But you know what they say about trapping something that was never meant to be caged. It’ll either turn on you, tearing your throat out while you sleep, or you’ll slowly kill it until it no longer shines but is a shadow of what it used to be.

We may think that a bird in a cage sings, but what if it’s just crying, its pleas falling on deaf ears?

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