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I shook myself free of the past, of losing the third parent in my short life, and went to the door. “What can I do for you, Sadie?”
Her smile was wobbly as it always was when she was drunk, and she always seemed to be drunk these days. “You know exactly what I want, Thomas.”
I did. She wanted to fuck. When Sadie was drunk or sad, or worse, drunk and sad, all she wanted was a good fuck. Most nights. I was up for it. How could I not be when she still held my heart? But tonight, I wasn’t in the mood. “You’re in no condition to fuck.”
She smiled again and pushed at my chest so she could step inside my room. “Maybe not, but I’m in the perfect condition to be fucked.”
She sauntered over to the king-size bed that filled my bedroom, kicked off her heels, and fell back.
“I know you want to fuck me, Thomas.” She opened her legs, showing off black lace panties with those fucking garter belts she knew drove me wild.
“I always want to fuck you, Sadie.” My hands slid up her thighs, and I let both thumbs rub her pussy through the lace. Her hips bucked up into my touch.
“And fuck me good, Thomas. Give me what we both want. Put your cock in me.”
Not tonight. She was too fucking drunk to enjoy it, which meant it wasn’t worth the effort. “You want this cock?”
She nodded and flashed a sleepy smile, hips gyrating as I rubbed slow circles around her pussy through her panties.
“You know I do.” Her hips moved faster, and her breathing quickened, but even her arousal was no match for the booze.
“Yes,” she whispered, and seconds later, she was asleep.
I pulled back and adjusted the erection in my pants before I picked her up and carried her to her room, where I undressed her and put her to bed.
And I always would.
For however long she needed me.
Chapter Nine
Sadie
“Sweet Jesus, how much did I drink last night?” I stepped into the dining room with a growl. “Close those fucking blinds, would you.” Someone, Thomas, or maybe one of the housekeepers, rushed to do as I asked, and I kept my eyes closed until darkness settled over my eyelids.
“Thank you.”
“Feeling that bottle of Velvet Fire?”
I glared at the amused tone in Thomas’ voice, and he chuckled.
“Guess so. Here’s a Bloody Mary to help.” He shoved the ice-cold drink in my hand and guided me to the dining table. “Hungry?”
“No,” I snapped.
“Perfect. There’s scrambled eggs, buttery toast, and that awful Canadian bacon you like.” Thomas was the only one I allowed to ignore my wishes because I knew he, more than anyone, only wanted what was best for me, probably because it was also best for him.
I took a sip of the Bloody Mary, glad he made it extra spicy because I needed something to kick this hangover’s ass. I’d talk to Virgil and see if the distillery could distill out some of whatever the fuck was giving me this killer hangover. I was reaching, but I felt like hell.
I smiled up at Thomas’ expectant face, grateful for his care but unable to tell him so directly. Hell, maybe I wasn’t just unable. Maybe I was fucking incapable of feeling something as pedestrian as gratitude. I paid Thomas obscenely well, and I let him fuck me when I was in the mood. Did I owe him more than that?
I didn’t know. Most days, I went through the motions, saying shit I didn’t mean or didn’t feel because I thought I should. I felt something when it came to Thomas, but it wasn’t love. It could be fondness since we’d known each other since we were little more than kids ourselves. It could be a sense of camaraderie since we were side-by-side mourning the loss of Cillian and later, burying Colm. Thomas had patched me up plenty, physically and emotionally, over the years.
Shit, maybe it is gratitude? “Thank you, Thomas.”
“Of course,” he offered quietly, the same way he always did. “Anything else?”
I shook my head and reached for the toast and the dish filled with whipped butter, hoping it would settle my stomach enough to eat. I had things to do today and no time for nausea.
The dining room door burst open, and Thomas put himself between me and the perceived danger. His stance changed and instantly relaxed at the sight of a panting, wide-eyed Madison.
“Hey,” she sighed with a smile that quickly faded as her hands flew to her mouth. Wide brown eyes looked around the room until she spotted what she was looking for. A potted Ficus, where she promptly threw up.
“Sorry.”
“For fuck’s sake, Madison, have a seat before you scare the baby out of you.”
Madison nodded and dropped down into the closest seat at the other end of the table. Thomas handed her a trash receptacle and poured her some ice water from the bar.
