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Technically, I should be at Kieran’s. But ever since he moved in with Juliet and began renovating the cottage he has in the middle of the woods, exorcising his demons, I don’t want to rain on his parade. He’s in a state of euphoria I’ve never seen him in before, despite the black cloud that hangs over him as a finisher for two different organized crime units, and it’s not something I’m keen on ruining.
My dad would also be more than willing to help out, given his own ties to the Stonemore gang, an Irish family in the next town over, but he’s been dealing with my mother’s worsening health more lately, and I don’t want to detract from that.
He needs to spend time with her while she can still remember him, and I know all-too-well that her condition is demanding.
This bungalow is my only real option, even if its inhabitant loathes my entire existence. He’s still my brother’s best friend, and in a town where sworn loyalties prevail over everything, I’m hoping he’ll extend assistance to me.
I’m not naive, I know he helps Kieran occasionally. I know that, despite his morals and tight-lipped air about him, he’s not as innocent and clean as he appears.
There’s a monster lurking just beneath the surface of his golden skin, searching for an outlet. And maybe I’m about to give him one.
My foot presses into the bottom step just as someone’s arms wrap around my waist from behind, pushing me up on the porch fully and shoving me against the wall. A tattooed hand wraps around my mouth, the entire length of his tall, muscular body holding mine in place, and I can’t stop the wave of desire from washing over me at the position.
One we’ve been in before, under very different circumstances.
His breath is harsh and hot against the shell of my ear, making my skin tingle. “I fucking told you not to come here anymore.”
I mumble against his hand, hating how my body betrays my mind, craving his violent nature, salivating for the way he dominates. How he takes without asking, devours without formality or control. It’s the one area he seems to allow himself to be free in.
My thighs clench of their own accord, the memory of his head between them all I can recall with him restraining me.
He shifts his hips, trying to relocate his growing erection from where it’s lodged between my ass cheeks, and clears his throat. In one fluid movement, he yanks his hand from my face and spins me around, pressing my back into the siding, gripping my wrists in one hand, and pushing them up above my head.
Biting the inside of my cheek is the only way I can suppress the moan collecting at the base of my throat; I stare up at those warm, hazel eyes, hating the rage I see vibrating within them. Hating that I’m about to make it so, so much worse.
Swallowing over the lump in my throat as he glares down at me, I take a shuddering breath and release it slowly, the fireworks doing very little to calm me, though I can’t tell if it’s from being in Boyd Kelly’s presence or the blood on my hands. “I need your help.”
