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And I adored her like that.
She was curvy and round, her body perfect for my tastes, my needs. She was, I guessed, thick. Solid. Every inch of her made for me.
When she twisted, bending down for her pants, I got a view of her slit, making my mouth water and my cock harden.Again. The folds of her sex were clearly visible through the briefs, and I clenched my teeth against the sight.
Jesus Christ, I could take her now.
Bend her over the bed and fuck her like there was no tomorrow, as though last night hadn’t happened. As though my cock wasn’t well-sated.
When she was dressed, I murmured, “Do you want breakfast?”
She released a low shriek and spun around to face me. Her cheeks, already pink, grew brighter, but she didn’t chide me for sneaking up on her, even though from her furrowed brow and the fire in her eyes, I could see she wanted to.
My lips curved at the sight.
Fight me, sweetheart. Go on. Do it.
My words were internal, but they were encouraging. I wanted to see the true redhead temper, wanted to feel its burn. But she didn’t give it to me.
I was semi-disappointed when she swallowed, gulping it down to murmur, “I-I should get back.”
“No, you should eat breakfast first,” I countered. I wasn’t going to be able to see her for a few days. Not with the clusterfuck of yesterday to deal with—our architect wouldn’t go to the cops, but Aidan had still shot him in the thigh, and Eoghan had to dig around in the wound to not only get the bullet out, but to make it look as though the guy had been slashed with a knife.
By that point, the poor bastard had been passed out dead cold. Still, I needed to make sure this wouldn’t come back on us, and that the man was being taken care of—I needed him back on site as soon as possible.
Hey, less of the fucking judgment. He shouldn’t have gotten into bed with us if he didn’t want to risk dancing with the devil.
The man was paid well for his services, and I had no doubt I’d be authorizing a bonus as an apology from Aidan very shortly.
Some hands took and others gave.
It was the way of it.
With that to deal with, as well as the fact she was going to be sore for a few days, I knew I wouldn’t be seeing her soon. Just being around her made me want to be inside her, and not only did I not need the break in focus, but she also needed some rest.
She wasn’t a cheap slut that I didn’t want to take care of, one whose state of being I didn’t give a fuck about.
She was mine.
I cared for what belonged to me.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze from mine.
“It’s clean out there,” I informed her briskly. If she was going to be around me, she’d have to get used to violence. It was an integral part of my world.
After swallowing again, she looked at me, and I knew she must have seen my inexorable stance. I wasn’t about to let her weasel out of stepping deeper into my home than this bedroom. She’d have to get used to the place—I was ripping off the Band-Aid instead of letting her concerns fester.
I straightened from my position at the door and held out my free hand. When she eyed it like it was a cobra, irritation rattled through me, and I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to be gentle with her.
As far as yesterday’s plan was concerned, I’d gotten what I wanted. Her, in my bed, for a night. Usually that was enough, but now? It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
I’d flung my weight about knowing it would pressure her to sleep with me, but if I wanted her to keep coming back, I couldn’t be a bastard to her.
Trouble was, bastard was my usual state of being.
So, while I wanted to stride forward, grab her hand, and drag her down the hall, I didn’t.
I composed myself, waiting a good forty seconds with her nibbling her bottom lip as she finally crossed the short distance between us.
