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Seamus raises his chin, a deadly defiance in his eyes though he seems calmer. “I pushed her to stay, though I told her she shouldn’t. It always worked, you see,” he begins conversationally. “I want to say she loves you enough to stay, but then I’d be lying.” His grin and disjointed thoughts grate on my nerves.
“You’re a big boy, Cunningham. You know how to play with the big boys. What is it you want?” I yawn into the back of my hand, and Seamus raises the gun, pointing it straight at my head.
I smile broadly. Mission achieved.
Outside, vehicles pull up, their tires crunching on gravel. I need a distraction.
“How long have you been screwing with my family from the inside?” Konnor asks, not actually looking at Seamus, but at some point over his head.
Seamus swings around, pointing his gun at Konnor’s head and walking straight into his space. “You never looked at me! But you will. Now that I—"
Roman’s underhand toss with his good hand lodges a knife into the back of Seamus’s neck at the same time Willow fires.
Konnor doesn’t take a step back as the dead man hits the concrete floor in a splatter of flesh and blood. Around us, weapons jolt, and I wince, waiting for the next shot that will end my existence while the echo of my wife’s ripples around us all.
I rise to my feet, unwilling to die kneeling before a fallen antagonist only to take a bullet in the back from a man without the balls to look me in the face as he pulls the trigger.
But the shots never come. Or rather, they do, but it’s in the form of blades flying from somewhere high above us.
I must remember to thank the Lady Sonja for her assist.
Konnor’s men burst through the doors, Dom in the lead charging straight at me.
“Willow!” he shouts. “Fuck, Roman.” Dom drops heavily to his knees at my side, already attending Roman’s wound without a word for me.
I look down at the cluster of people bleeding out on my shoes and shake my head. “Like a collection of fucking puppies,” I mutter, stepping back.
Willow wraps her fingers around my ankle and I freeze on the spot. “Don’t you dare move,” she snaps. “We have a lot to talk about.”
I grin at the woman who just made her next kill, and is already earning herself a tanned backside over my knee later tonight.
Damn good thing we have that no underwear rule in the evenings.
Roman rolls onto his back and offers a thumbs-up with his good hand to the room at large. Konnor huffs a laugh at my side. “Perhaps I should be negotiating directly with him.”
“Perhaps you should.” I stand side by side with the man who will take one person I love from my life and smile.
Until we reach that point, we can stay friends.
****
For the first time in over a year the door to my study is locked.
Willow sits on her knees beside my desk, her feet curled gracefully beneath her toned thighs. She’s taken to swimming recently and her body is more beautiful and stunning than ever.
Tonight, she is naked. If she moves, her pretty ass will show where several dozen handprints that match my own have turned her skin rosy and heated.
Dom sits on the other side of my desk, having witnessed her punishment, though from the way she moaned through every swat, wriggling enticingly on my lap, I wonder if we shouldn’t have called it a funishment instead.
For now, she sits quietly while a muscle in Dom’s jaw ticks at an intermittent albeit increasing rate.
“I thought we talked about this,” he said finally. “Cyprus was a one-off event.”
I smile. “That seems like an eon ago.”
Even though Willow isn’t supposed to break her silence—part of her penance for crawling between me and a bullet during a gunfight—she makes a little mewl of agreement. I cup the back of her head and massage her scalp deeply.
She whimpers and nuzzles into my hand, her shoulders sloped gracefully, her nipples pebbled tight. A sweet blush fans across the top of her breasts. I tap her knee with my shoe, and she slides her knees apart, displaying her glistening pussy, blooming with heat and ready to be fucked.
