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Fuck. That was the right thing for her to say. My hips jerk forward as I slam home. Gripping her hips, I slowly withdraw, pounding in hard again. Lauren’s body convulses forward with each brutal thrust, and a long, low moan sounds as I slowly withdraw each time.
Her eyes never fucking leave mine, and I keep up my pace, hard in, slow out, until her mouth falls open, her eyelids fluttering as she tries to keep them open and on mine as she comes.
I hold deep in her until she’s ridden the crest of her orgasm, reaching forward, tangling my fingers in her hair, tugging her head back as I tighten my grip on her hip and pump hard.
Lauren’s eyes widen as she comes again unexpectedly. The sight and feel have me coming hard. So fucking good. I almost wish I had bitten her again.
LAUREN
Paddy withdraws, breathing hard, his eyes finally releasing mine from his captive gaze as he buttons his jeans back up, turning away.
“Get dressed, lass,” he calls over his shoulder as he strolls out of the room. “I want to talk to you in the kitchen.”
My legs are still trembling from the force of my two orgasms as I quickly clean myself up and dress, hurrying into the kitchen.
Paddy is leaning against the counter next to the fridge, his long legs crossed at the ankles, sipping a mug of coffee. Another cup sits steaming on the breakfast bar. He gestures to it as my eyes land on it.
“Have a seat, Lauren.”
I hurry to comply, feeling cold inside. Paddy rarely uses my name. Normally he calls melass, so this must be serious.
He watches me for a beat over the top of his coffee. I pick up my mug, taking a sip of the lovely coffee. Paddy shoves away from the counter, striding across the room and placing his mug on the breakfast bar. He leans forward, his hands resting on the countertop as his eyes hold my gaze and search my face.
“Why are the Italians after you?”
My heart starts thumping in my chest, bile rising in my throat.
“I’m not entirely sure,” I tell him truthfully, scratching the countertop with my thumbnail. “I know it has something to do with Josh. I think about a fight. I think….” I pause, taking a deep breath as I voice my darkest suspicion. The one I’ve never told anyone else. “I think they might have killed him.”
Paddy watches my face for a long moment. Lifting my eyes, I meet his gaze, feeling miserable.
“I have to head out,” he says, nodding and draining his coffee. “Don’t -.”
“Leave the apartment,” I finish for him, nodding earnestly. Paddy blinks in surprise, smirking at me.
“Not even for laundry.” He nods to the basket over on the coffee table, censure coloring his tone.
“Liam did that,” I blurt out. “I just folded it when he brought it back up.”
Paddy’s lips press together – I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t want to smile or if he doesn’t like Liam doing our laundry. Without speaking, he nods, reaching out, cupping my cheek, and stroking his thumb over my lower lip while he holds my gaze.
I’ve noticed that it is one of his favorite things to do with my mouth. He never kisses me. It’s frustrating as all get out because I want him to kiss me again. I have dreams about our single kiss. It was wicked good.
Paddy’s hand disappears from my face, and he turns without another word, striding out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.
The silence is deafening after he leaves. There isn’t even a stereo here. Maybe I’ll blast some tunes on my phone. Like I’ve summoned something to distract me from the silence, my phone buzzes from the coffee table. I retrieve it, answering as I slide back onto my stool, sipping my cooling coffee.
“What’s going on, girl?” I drawl down the phone, getting a snort in return.
“Not dead then?”
I roll my eyes at Andie’s dramatics. “‘Why would I be dead?” I snicker, taking another sip of my coffee.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she replies airily. “Maybe the fact that the Italian mafia wants you to be?”
I pause, sighing. “You think they want me dead?”
Honestly, that hadn’t occurred to me. I have no idea what I thought they wanted with me, but death makes sense. They killed Josh –at least, I think they did, and Paddy didn’t disagree. He’d know about that stuff. So, maybe they want to kill me too. Rid themselves of all the Carmichaels. It makes as much sense as anything else.
