Basil (The Brinnswick Chronicles #3) - Michele Notaro Page 0,36

but I’m not a fucking liar. I’ve been messed with too many times to do that to another person.” He slid out of the booth and stood, but I didn’t miss him wiping his eye before he faced me again and tapped his knuckle on the tabletop. “See ya around, Hiro.” Then he turned on his heel and walked out.

I sat there in shock for about fifteen seconds before my sense kicked in, and I ran after him. It took me a second to figure out where he was when I ran out of the bar, but then I remembered that he liked to fly his damn dragon, so I rushed around the side of the building, praying I wasn’t too late.

When I reached the alley behind the bar, Basil was leaning against the brick building, one leg propped up behind him, an arm crossed over his chest with the other hand covering his eyes. It would’ve been a sexy stance if I hadn’t felt his pain.

“Basil?”

He jerked upright, dropping his hands and standing in a defensive position.

Slowly, I approached him and said, “Don’t go.”

He lifted his arms up wide. “What do you want from me, Hiro?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

He clamped his lips together and nodded a few times before turning and walking away a few more steps. When he turned back around, there was anger in his gaze. “Why are you being like this? What the hell is your issue with witches? I’ve never done anything to you to justify you treating me like shit.”

My jaw clenched, but I knew he was right. I knew deep down that he’d never done anything to deserve this anger, he wasn’t the one to blame. And the fact that I could fuckin’ feel his hurt, that made my mouth open up with the truth. Or part of it anyway. “Witches murdered my wife.”

All of his anger flew out of him as he sagged and went back to that saddened look again. “I’m sorry, Hiro.”

Nodding, I stepped closer to him and met his eyes. He’d meant that. He was sorry. But I didn’t want his sorry, I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t want to think about Millayna, I didn’t even want him to know about her.

What I wanted was to stop thinking about this little witch in front of me, to stop caring about what was going on in that head of his. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. And that pissed me off.

So I stepped closer until our chests were almost touching.

He was making me crazy. Out of my damn mind, pull my hair out, crazy. Why, out of all the people in the world, was it this little fuckin’ witch that I couldn’t stop thinking about?

Those dark as hell eyes were staring up at me, and how he managed to look vulnerable when I knew he was anything but, I didn’t know. His eyes were glossy again, his cheeks a rosy pink, his lips parted as he stared up at me. When his tongue peeked out to wet them, I had to hold in a groan.

Before I could second-guess myself, I surged forward, grabbed the back of his neck, and pushed my lips against his. His gasp allowed me the entry I sought, and I forced my tongue into his mouth. Grabbing his hip with my other hand, I held him in place and pressed harder against his mouth. I wanted to punish him, I wanted to hurt him for making me feel this way, I wanted to show him that he had no right claimin’ me as his viramore.

But instead of fighting back like I expected, he accepted the punishing kiss, melting into me. When he whimpered into my mouth, I almost pulled back, but I didn’t. Instead, I stepped into him and walked him backward until he hit the brick wall.

When I broke the kiss, he breathed out, “Hiro,” and my heart squeezed in my chest. He wasn’t supposed to take it, he wasn’t supposed to blink those vulnerable eyes up at me, he wasn’t supposed to accept my punishment. I couldn’t take him like this. He already had a grip on me, but I needed him to let go of it. I needed him to forget me. I needed him to move on.

I needed him out of my fuckin’ system.

When he leaned in to kiss me again, I grabbed his hips and spun him so his mouth couldn’t reach me. If I