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I need to know who she talked to, who I have to hunt down and gut. But right now, all I need is to feel her, all of her. Lifting her, I turn and toss her on her bed, then cover her with my body before she can protest.
She’s so warm beneath me, her body welcoming me as I take her mouth again, my tongue sliding past her lips. Her moan vibrates on my lips, and I press my hard cock against her.
Digging her nails into my shoulders, she wraps her legs around me and kisses me back with a fierceness that makes my heart hum. I need to be balls deep in her, marking her with my seed. I try to engage my reason, my self-preservation. She’s dangerous to me, her words, her ability to make me known to the world.
But when I kiss her, I forget it all. She’s the only thing I touch, taste, feel.
Reaching behind her, I wrap her ponytail around my fist and pull. Running my teeth along her throat, I groan at her softness, at how she reacts to me. She’s a brat who needs to be mastered. I’m the only one who can do it and can give her release.
I sit back, ready to strip her, but a low whistle makes it to my ears. I freeze.
She runs her hands down my chest, but I grab her wrists and listen.
“What?”
The whistle comes again. Fuck.
I climb off the bed and pull her up with me.
“Tiernan, what—”
I throw her over my shoulder and jog down the hall to my room, her voice a constant sound at my back as she protests, asks questions, protests some more, then asks even more questions.
“Stay here.” I put her down in my closet, her face red and her eyes narrowed.
“You can’t just—” I kiss her, hard, then back away. “Someone’s out there. You’ll be safe. Don’t leave this closet. If you do, I’ll redden that ass with my belt next time.” I swing the closet door closed then back away and grab a pair of knives from my dresser.
“You … jerkface!” she yells, but she doesn’t open the door. Good girl. I’ll reward her for that later.
I head out to the living area where Charles is already headed.
“Diego on the roof?”
“Yeah.” He gives me a terse nod.
“What did Barrow get eyes on?”
“Not sure. Stay frosty.” He heads out the glass doors and into the snowy afternoon. I turn and hurry down the back hallway, then down into the basement and out a side door.
Easing through the bare bushes along the side of the garage, I keep an eye on the treeline. For a hidden lodge full of ex-assassins and a supposedly dead mob kingpin, we’ve been getting a fuck-ton of company ever since the women showed up. But I don’t mind it. Not when it brought me Daphne and gives me the chance to get my hands dirty again. After all, I’m no good guy.
I creep into the trees around the eastern side of the house, making sure my profile stays low. Barrow is up ahead. He’s practically invisible, but we’ve played our little war games many a time in these woods. Look, it helps the days go by to pretend to hunt and kill each other every so often. Anyway, he’s crouched down behind a tree, his eyes on something way up on the ridge.
Joining him, I hunker down behind a nearby tree. “The fuck?”
“It’s a goddamn drone.”
“I fucking hate tech in the hands of morons.” I shake my head.
“Diego will tag it. He’s probably just waiting for a clean shot, somewhere closer so we don’t have to trek for hours to find it.”
“Thoughtful.” I nod. “But damn, I was hoping for some blood.”
“Same,” Barrow commiserates.
I’m about to settle in and wait for Diego’s shot when I hear the faintest whir overhead. We both look up at the same time. Barrow aims his gun at the two-turbine piece of shit floating over the lodge and closer to us.
Fuck it. I pull a knife and throw it hard. Two shots crack through the quiet, and my knife tags the damn thing right in one of its rotors as the other one explodes from two well-placed bullets.
