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Chapter Two
Quinn
I hadmy suspicions the woman I spent most of the night with was more than a beautiful pair of whiskey brown eyes and a body built for sin. When I came to early this morning, she was already gone, which oddly bruised my ego. I wanted to wake with her in my arms, to kiss her good morning and start the day off right. Nothing sets the right tone for the day like a morning orgasm. Or two.
Instead, I woke alone and drank whiskey-spiked coffee to kill my hangover as I researched the head of each of the second-tier families invited to today’s meeting. I told them all it was a one-on-one to keep them from thinking it’s an ambush, but truth be told, I’ve invited them all. Well, all the second-tier families that haven’t already been marked by the Alliance as dishonorable and untrustworthy.
The Prescott family is known for its expertise in data retrieval, at least that’s what they call it. I call it what it is—hacking. The other second-tier families all have specialized skillsets as well, and I’ve already ensured they’re aware it’s that expertise I expect them to bring to the Alliance. That’s how I know the heads of most the second-tier families, having had meetings with them in the past. There are very few I don’t know.
Joe Prescott being one of them. Make that Jo Prescott, now that I know he is a she. I expected her to come to the meeting today in person. What I didn’t expect was my reaction to seeing her again, seeing her now as God intended. No wig. No heavy makeup to mask her beauty. She’s tall, amazingly fit, far more beautiful than my memory gave her credit for. My cock is immediately hard, eagerly anticipating a repeat performance of last night.
Which is exactly the problem. I can’t risk fucking around with the head of a second-tier family—literally—and jeopardize the possible expansion of the Alliance. The top five families have lived peacefully together, offering each other favors and coming together when one of the less desirable families attempt to move in.
There’s power in numbers and that’s why I’m holding a summit of sorts. It’s the first of its kind, a meeting between the top-tier and second-tier families. The other members of the Alliance aren’t exactly pleased with my intent, but I see no reason to continue this war with some of the second-tier families when having them join us only increases our reach.
Once I fully enter the Alliance meeting room, I ignore the rest of the family heads in the room and zero in on Jo. “Would you like coffee?” I offer and approach the spread of coffee, tea, juice, and an assortment of pastries. She’s hesitant, the shock of realizing I’m the Quinn O’Reilly she’s here to meet and convince she deserves a seat at the table coloring her cheeks like a fever.
I can relate as I’m sure the shock of seeing her again and in this capacity has settled into my emerald eyes. I keep my gaze on her, which isn’t hard to do since I can’t stop seeing her body writhing beneath mine, her eyes glazed over with ardent need. I still see her naked, her skin shining with a slippery layer of sweat as we took our time learning every inch of each other.
A lesson I want to repeat.
Grateful for the dark slacks I have on and their cover of my enormous bulge now between my legs at my very vivid memory, I wait for her to join me at the long table housing the continental breakfast. When she doesn’t, I fight to stop myself from offering my hand to bring her to me and shove my hands in my pockets. “It’s a simple question, Ms. Prescott.”
Her eyes flash and I know I’m going to pay for that comment when we’re alone. I welcome the conversation. I have a few questions for her myself. But first, we have business to attend to.
“Yes sir, Mr. O’Reilly,” she states, her tone dancing on the edge of irritation. There’s a reason I attended last night’s celebration in costume, just in case someone wanted to use the cosplay party to get to the new head of the Alliance. Looks like my preparation paid off. “It’s very good to finally meet you in person.”
I hide my grin. We had plenty of in-person meetings last night. Something tells me she’s going to find a way to use that against me. She’s professional, I’ll give her that. Not an ounce of recognition sparks in those eyes, but I know.
“Gentlemen,” I say and nod at the door, where two of my enforcers stand at attention. “The meeting is full. No one else comes in—or out, until I say.”
They nod their understanding. Once Jo’s standing next to me in front of the coffee, our backs to the room, she whispers fiercely, “Zorro, huh?”
“I did tell you he was originally from Ireland, didn’t I?”
She keeps her focus straight ahead, her voice low, as we slowly pick at the assortment of breakfast items while the rest of the families are at my back. It’s a great risk I’m taking bringing them all together like this, but for what I have to say, the bomb I’ll be dropping, I need them all in the same room.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were last night?” she asks.
“I could ask the same.”
“I didn’t know who you were last night.”
“Again, I could say the same.” Falling silent, we eye each other. A thousand meanings pass between us. A mild hint of betrayal. A peak of interest wondering if last night was a one-time thing. An undeniable charge of attraction, of want and need, of unfinished business.
I stop us before joining the crowd and face her. She finally swings that striking gaze my way and I suck in a breath. I wonder if she even knows the power she has with nothing more than a look. “May I call you Jo?”
“Probably a better idea than Lolita.” She arches a dark eyebrow.
I allow my tone to edge toward deliberately insulting. “Jo, this is a very important meeting with very important people. I trust you won’t let our personal relationship cloud our potential professional relationship.”
Her eyes flash. “Did you have this talk with the other family heads?”
“I didn’t have sex last night with any of the other family heads.”
“I guess I should feel honored I’m the only one to make a notch on your bed post, at least last night.”
“You should at least acknowledge the fact it was a mutual act of gratifuckation and not whatever you’re making it out to be. Stop coming up with reasons to be angry with me. We both had a great time, right?”
