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

After Roman has made sure I’ve eaten every last bit of the sandwich and drunk all the iced tea, Hunter washes me with his rosemary body wash, his calloused hands gliding all over my skin. He touches me in such a reverent way that tears spring to my eyes, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as worshipped before.

He makes us get out as the water starts to cool, covering me in a huge fluffy towel that is warm from being on the heated towel rail. He doesn’t say anything as he quickly dries himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and then taking my hand to lead me into his room.

On the bed is one of the twin’s T-shirts and a pair of fluffy bed socks.

“Little shit,” Hunt murmurs, huffing a laugh as he takes the towel from me, tossing it in the bathroom before helping me into the shirt and socks. The shirt is Roman’s, his scent surrounding me, and I can’t help snuggling into it.

“No shorts?” I ask, and Hunt just raises a brow at me that has me swallowing hard at the dark promise in his eyes. Even Evangeline baulks a little at the idea of another round, still sore from my first threesome.

“Get into bed, Peaches,” he commands, and clearly feminism has never heard of Hunter Anderson because I don’t even roll my eyes, just let him lead me around to one side before climbing in. He tucks me in like I’m a child, dipping low to press a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I watch as he takes off his own towel, tossing that into the bathroom too—who knew he’d be such a slob—and then he pulls out some grey sweatpants and a white vest, slipping them on before heading towards the door.

My heart sinks, a lump forming in my throat.

“Y–you’re not staying?” I ask, my voice small and cracking a little as tears threaten to fall. He pauses, then turns to face me, and his brows dip before he’s striding over to me, crouching low so his face is level with mine.

“Fuck, baby, I’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now and hold you all night,” he tells me, his hand reaching out and swiping under my eye, at the tear I didn’t even know had fallen. “But, being the leader of a gang like the Shadows comes with a fucking long to-do list. I’ll send Roman in, and I’ll be back later, okay?”

Licking my lips, I take a deep inhale, trying to see past my initial hurt at what felt like a rejection. This is the third time he’s left me after we’ve been intimate, and it brings up feelings of abandonment I’d rather forget. I’m also not ready to admit, even to myself, that I want him to stay so badly.

“Okay,” I whisper, and he leans closer, pressing his lips against mine as his warm palm cups my cheek.

“Good girl,” he breathes against my lips, and then he straightens up, gazing down at me for a long moment. Heaving a deep sigh, he turns around and walks out, leaving the door open.

Moments later, I hear the rumble of deep voices, then the sounds of footsteps coming towards me. A smile splits my lips as Roman and Rowan enter the room, their gazes fixed on me.

“Heard you needed some sleeping buddies,” Roman teases, his hair damp as he drops his sweats and strides over to the bed completely naked. “Room for two?”

“Always,” I say, that damn lump back in my throat as I shuffle to the middle of the, luckily vast bed, which is definitely bigger than mine, though I still think we could do with bigger if all four of us will share a bed one day.

I’ve not slept alone since I arrived here apart from the couple of days the guys were away, and I hardly slept while they were gone. I just can’t seem to sleep alone anymore, and although that should probably worry me, it doesn’t make it any less true.

He climbs in, pulling me close to his burning-hot body just as the mattress dips behind me and Rowan snuggles up to my back. Like his brother, he’s not wearing anything, and I can’t help wiggling my arse into his crotch, tangling my legs with his.

“Careful, Little Lamb, or I’ll take you up on that invitation, regardless of how sore you might be,” Rowan purrs in my ear, so I still, even as Evangeline throbs.

My exhausted and sated body soon slips into slumber, surrounded by their warmth.

My breath huffs out of me as I run, the dark too thick to see much. Where are they? I’m frantic, looking left and right as I futilely search the pitch black, screaming names, but I just can’t find them.

Suddenly, I burst into a room, the light so bright after the dark that it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. When I can see clearly, a sob tears from my chest and I wish I was back in the pitch black because then I wouldn’t be faced with the horror before me.

Hunter, Roman, and Rowan are all tied to chairs, but Hunt and Rowan are unmoving, blood dripping down their foreheads, their eyes unseeing. My gaze locks onto Roman, his eyes wide as his mouth opens on a scream, telling me to run just as a dark shadow materialises behind him, the barrel of a gun pressed to his head.

My gaze snags on familiar hands, arms covered in ink that I mapped with my touch not that long ago in my bed. I trace it up, my heart fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces when Nikolai’s face swims before him.

“Hello, Solnishko.”

A scream tears through my throat as the bang on the gun sounds…

“Iris!” A deep shout has me gasping, and I sit bolt upright, my heart pounding as I’m torn from my nightmare into the brightness of morning. “Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re safe.” Roman’s low voice has me snapping my head to him, and with a sob, I launch myself into his arms, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“H–he s–shot y–you,” I stutter, his arms coming up around me and pulling me tight to him.

“Who did, baby?” he asks, warmth at my back letting me know Rowan is here too and not in that god-awful room, his eyes unseeing as he bleeds out.

Letting go of Roman, I twist, another sob leaving me as I find Rowan really there, alive and unharmed, my gaze tracing his forehead. I’m not normally so weepy, but it’s been a tough week, so cut a girl some slack.

“It was just a nightmare, Little Lamb,” Rowan assures me, pulling me into him and placing a kiss on my head. I wrap my arms around him, flinching hard when the door is suddenly flung open.

“What the fuck is going on?” Hunt’s gruff voice rings out, and I quickly release Rowan, scrambling over Roman and throwing myself at Hunter, who to his credit, catches me with one arm, the other holding a gun. “Hey, Peaches. What happened, darling?”

“She was having a nightmare, said something about some guy shooting us,” Roman tells him, and I hear the rustle of the bedclothes behind me, then feel the body heat of both twins pressing up against me, my racing heart finally starting to slow.

“Who shot us, Peaches?” Hunter asks softly, and I crane my neck to look up at him, my arms still wrapped tightly around him.

“Nikolai,” I confess in a soft whisper, my stomach twisting as I feel like I’ve betrayed Nik somehow by admitting that.

His jaw works, but then he’s dipping down to press his lips against mine in a gentle, reassuring kiss.

“Petrov won’t be shooting any of us, baby girl. I’m pretty sure that the way he sees it, he owes us a debt for keeping you safe,” he tells me, his lips brushing mine as he speaks.

My brows dip down. “Why do you think that?” I ask. I know that Nik agreed they were the best people to keep me safe, but there was no mention of a debt being owed.

“The night you arrived, I had a text from an unknown number, telling me that a debt was owed and would be paid one day,” he tells me, and my heart twinges at the knowledge that Nikolai risked contacting them and offered them something which would make his father even more furious.

I wonder again what happened after he went back empty-handed the night he was sent here, but I can’t focus on that for too long, dread making nausea swim in my stomach.

“How about Hunt makes us some pancakes and we take a shower?” Roman asks, and I don’t miss the growl that vibrates in Hunter’s chest.

My stomach chooses that moment to give an almighty grumble, and Hunter sighs.

“Fucking fine, but don’t keep her too long,” he huffs, kissing me on my lips once more, forcing his tongue inside my mouth until I’m a panting mess, all thoughts of my nightmare fled before the very much living and breathing man before me. Evangeline may be sore after all the D last night, but she’s nothing if not an overachiever, so she’s raring to go, horny bitch!

Letting me go, he stalks from the room, the gun still gripped in his hand, and a shiver pebbles goosebumps all over my skin. I wonder how many times he’s had to use it? I thought guns were rare in England, but clearly, even though it’s illegal to own them—I very much doubt Hunter has a shotgun licence, and even if he does, he’s holding a handgun—they are still very much present.

“Come on, Little Lamb,” Rowan encourages, taking my hand and pulling me towards Hunt’s vast bathroom. “After breakfast, we can take you to the centre to see those rooms, yeah?”

A smile lifts my lips as warmth suffices my limbs. I’d forgotten about that, and the idea of getting out of the flat makes me giddy.

ROWAN

We keep the shower short, Roman and I making quick work of giving Iris an orgasm to chase away the last vestiges of her nightmare. She was so scared, and I hated seeing her terrified, even in sleep. With everything that’s happened over the past few days, it’s no wonder she had a bad dream, even if what she dreamed of is highly unlikely to happen given we have a truce of sorts with the Russian Bratva heir.

Giving her pleasure seemed to help bring her out of her fear, and shit, I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of watching her fall into bliss, especially as she seems to love all of the depraved things we’ve tried so far. Soon, I’ll introduce her to my knives, marking that pretty, unblemished flesh of hers until my scars litter her skin for all to see.

Hunt glares at us as we finally emerge, but then she’s skipping over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips, thanking him for the breakfast feast that he never used to prepare but seems inclined to do now each morning we’re here since our pretty little houseguest arrived.

His mood brightens after that, and who can blame him? She’s like a ray of fucking sunshine, and we’re all desperate for her light and warmth. My lips twitch as she bounces in her seat, even as she moans about how good the loaded pancakes are, making all of us hard as rocks if the way my brother, Hunt, and I adjust ourselves is any sign.

The plan was originally for Roman to take her while Hunt and I attended to some Shadows business—some of our runners are being targeted at the moment and we want to discover who is behind it—but clearly, Hunt can’t quite let her out of his sight again so soon because shortly after we clean up, he declares that we’ll all go. We can spend some time at the gym, it’s always good to get a workout in and it helps that we show our faces regularly to our crew. They’re used to seeing us in the gym, something we’ve not done since Iris arrived.

I grab my gym stuff, throwing in some bits for Roman too, and then head to the front door to find my Little Lamb talking a mile a minute to my brother, who is fucking enraptured. I don’t even know what she’s saying, not sure he does either, as like me, he’s just staring at her with stars in his eyes. Fuck, we’ve got it bad.

“Ready to go?” Hunt asks, striding up to us, his own bag in his hand.

“Yes, boss!” Iris cries while saluting, and my lips twitch as Hunt’s nostrils flare, his beast scenting the air. He’s got it bad too.

“Jesus wept, Peaches,” he rasps, grabbing the back of her head before slamming his lips against hers. Her squeak of surprise turns into a moan that has my dick twitching, the sight of them so fucking hot I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave after all.

Though just as suddenly, he releases her, his pupils blown and his chest heaving as much as hers is. Then without a word, he storms past them, flinging open the door, a blast of freezing air hitting us and making her hair lift as he strides out of it.

I bark a laugh, and Roman stares at me as if he’s never heard me laugh before. To be fair, it’s not often that I do. Well, not this sort of laugh anyway. I laugh plenty when someone is tied up and bleeding, my knives singing across their skin and parting their flesh, but that kind of laugh usually scares people.

“What’s so funny, bro?” he asks, staring at me, his brows raised.

“We’re all so fucked.” I chuckle before sauntering towards them, taking her hand and tugging her out the door. I shiver as the cold wraps around me, but the soft warmth of my scarf heats me more than any winter coat ever could. I noticed Hunt and Roman have theirs too, and saw the gleam of pride in Iris’s eyes when she saw we all had them on.

I glance behind me to find her cheeks pink, her thick winter coat pulled tightly around her as we make our way to the stairs.

“Urgh, I’d forgotten you guys are allergic to lifts,” she grumbles as we enter the stairwell. I chuckle again as we start to descend, enjoying the slight burn of my thighs as we keep going. It’s a good warmup for a workout, coming up them is even better, but by the way Iris puffs behind me, she’s not a fan.

“It’s good cardio,” Roman tells her from behind us, his voice laced with amusement.

“Fuck your cardio,” she wheezes, and I stop, turning to face her. Her cheeks are bright pink now, and her chest heaves, her forehead glistening.

“We’ll help you do lots of cardio, Little Lamb,” I tell her, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead behind her ear. “And then we won’t need to give you such a long head start.”

Her brows dip as her tongue comes out to trace her lower lip, and I have the urge to bite it until it’s bruised and bleeding. I want my marks on her so fucking bad. “Head start for what?”

“The chase, sweetness,” I purr, an image of her running away from me, blonde hair flying behind her, making my blood sing. “We will hunt you like the fox hunts the rabbit, and when we catch you, we’ll devour you.”

Her eyes widen, the pupils blown so wide that almost all of the stunning hazel is hidden.

“Fuck, bro. Did you have to go there right now? I’m going to meet the crew with a raging boner,” Roman groans, and smirking, I take a final look at our Little Lamb before spinning back around to carry on walking down the stairs.

Hunter is waiting at the bottom, and he surprises the shit out of me by taking hold of Iris’s hand and tugging her towards the centre which is at the heart of the estate.

We made sure it was when we had it built. A place for the community to meet, with lunch clubs for the old people, a gym for the younger members of the estate and our crew, and rooms that get used for birthday parties, free of charge. And now a kids’ craft club.

It’s a modern-looking building with lots of windows that make it bright and airy. There are a few full walls out the back that are open for our local artist to paint and draw on, and honestly, I’m often blown away by the artwork that graces them. The gym is in the basement and has everything, all the top-of-the-range machines, as well as an extensive weights section, plus a shit ton of punching bags. One of the old timers, Dave, runs a boxing club, which is always popular, and many issues have been sorted inside that ring.

I cast a glance at Iris, watching her take in the building. She looks as if she’s considering it, her lips pursed as she takes it in, and I can practically see her mind working.

“We had the centre built a few years back when it became apparent we needed a space to keep people out of trouble,” Hunt tells her, and she pauses, her surprised gaze flicking to him.

“You paid for it? Not the council?” she asks, looking back at the large single-story building. My brother huffs a laugh.

“The council don’t give a shit about us here,” he scoffs, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She looks good sandwiched between my brother and Hunt, though she looks better naked.

“But didn’t they buy it off the developers? When they went bankrupt or something? Wasn’t it meant to be luxury housing?” she questions, looking up at him, her body sinking into his hold. I fucking love that she relaxes around us like this. There’s something so humbling about being given that sort of trust by another person, especially one such as Iris Montgomery.

“They did, and yes, it was supposed to be the most expensive estate in London, the flats all top-spec, but clearly they couldn’t budget properly, stupid fuckers,” Hunter sneers, looking around us and shaking his head. We all love this estate, are proud to run it and call it our home. We also know how bad some of the other London estates have it, the flats too small for what they were built for. We have a lot more space here, inside and out, because of the fact it was always meant to be private, each flat worth hundreds of thousands. “And the council still owns a fair percentage of it, Peaches,” Hunt informs her, pulling her and my brother towards the glass doors. “We own quite a bit now too, as well as individual residents buying up some of the flats.”

“And the council didn’t mind you building this?” she asks as we step into the warm, bright space. There are colourful murals on the walls, artwork done by local graffiti artists, and I watch as her shining eyes take it all in, her lips parted.

“They didn’t get a choice, and they don’t give a fuck as long as someone else pays for it and the upkeep,” Roman mocks. “What do you think?”

We all stop and look at her. It somehow feels important to know what she thinks about something we’ve done. We do a lot of shady shit, we are a gang after all, and most of what we do is not exactly legal, but we also try to give back as much as possible. Some gangs out there do really vile stuff, but we’re here to look after our people, not make their lives more miserable.

“It’s beautiful, so bright and colourful. So happy,” she says, beaming, and I swear to god my heart actually skips a beat as pride fills my chest at her praise. She may have just unlocked a new kink for me, because I want to hear her call me a good boy for other, more intimate reasons.

Hunt’s chest practically puffs up like a lion, and my brother is no better, grinning from ear to ear. Yep, we are so totally fucked with this one.