“SER…” Strat warned from behind.
Focused, caught in the tractor beam stare of the man propping himself on a barstool, she couldn’t resist. Yeah, he could hurt her, but she wasn’t afraid.
When she reached him, Connel took her hips to guide her into the vee of his parted thighs. Rather than say a word, his lips came to hers. Closing her eyes, she relaxed against him, folding her arms between them, appreciating the shield of his body. His hands slid up her back to lose themselves in her hair, gripping it tighter as the need of his kiss grew.
As she was losing herself in him, he tore his mouth away. Was the kiss for the benefit of others? Sometimes it was easy to forget they weren’t a real couple. Thinking that way could be dangerous, could get her hurt.
“You tell me everything,” he murmured on her, tightening his fists in her hair. “And you don’t leave my side from now on.”
“We can’t be together all the time,” she said, her heart still pumping. “My family can’t—”
“Shit,” he said, his head turning.
Disappointing him didn’t feel good. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Throwing up obstacles between them annoyed her. His fists loosened in her hair, combing it out as his arms relaxed around her.
Resting her head against his, she angled to kiss his jaw. “I’m sorry.”
He scooped her hair into one hand, using it to pull her head back. “You trust Strat?”
She blinked up at him. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Maybe this morning was nothing to do with yesterday,” she said, slipping her hands under the collar of his shirt, seeking skin. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence. You’re in a dangerous line of work—”
“Payback for this morning comes after payback for yesterday,” he said and frowned, saying something else in his mother tongue that she didn’t understand. His expression darkened as his fingers found hers to guide them down inside his shirt. “You have a responsibility to the family.”
His stag head tattoo was under her fingertips. Reading the ferocity of his glare was difficult. Did he mean it? Was he pissed he’d put his name near hers when the Manzanis were causing shit? She’d endangered his men. Whether or not Evander targeted them, the possibility existed. She should’ve warned him. Given him a chance to defend himself.
“Approaching your woman is a personal slight,” Niall muttered. “You can’t let the guys do it.”
“No,” she said, curling her fingers into a fist on her lover. “I don’t want you going near him. If you hurt him, he’ll hurt you back.”
“Worried about him?”
“No,” she said, unintimidated by his scorn, “but where does it end? You hit him, he hits you back. If you challenge him—”
“Enough,” he said, threading their fingers together as he stood. “Strat, she doesn’t leave your sight unless she’s with me.”
“Hey, I didn’t—”
“You can’t ask him to—”
“Put him on payroll,” Connel said over his shoulder to Niall and started across the room, taking her with him.
“Connel,” she said. “Conn…”
He didn’t slow, just kept on going, across the width of the club to a spiral staircase almost beneath where the office would be. They went up onto a balcony she’d never noticed and through a door into… the apartment living room. How had she never registered the door there before? Because it was dark? Because she was always in a heady state of mind?
“Don’t contradict me in front of anyone,” he said, dropping her hand to turn to her. “Ever.”
“No?” she asked, her hands rising to her hips. “Guess again! I will contradict you if you’re talking crap. How can you even think about going near Evander Manzani? How can you ever—”
Grabbing her jaw, he slammed her against the wall. “You will not contradict me,” he snarled.
Why wasn’t she afraid? With Evander she feared for her virtue, hell, she feared for her life. But there, alone with this glaring man, the guy renowned for his temper, she wasn’t scared.
“You’ll get yourself killed,” she said, locked in his hold. “What will happen to your precious family then?” Shoving away from her, he turned his back. “It doesn’t even make sense. Why would you want to go after him? Risk a war between your families for the woman you’re blackmailing into bed. Your ego is not that fragile. You shouldn’t give a shit—”
“It’s about pride,” he said without turning. “One man takes another’s woman—”
“That what it is? He touched your toy? Goddamnit, you—”
“He touched you?” he roared, spinning around to bear down on her. “Where?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she snapped back, but laid calming hands on his chest, switching to a soothing tone. “You have to control your anger.”
He swiped her hands away. “Where?”
Screaming at each other wouldn’t change what had been. Anything she said would likely only inflame tensions further.
With her hands flat on the wall at her sides, she rose on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his. Encouraged that he didn’t run away, she did it again. This time when he grabbed her jaw, he squeezed it tight and forced it higher, opening her mouth to plunge his tongue against hers.
Wet heat pushed his kiss deeper. Frantic. Fast. Devouring. Suddenly starved, both were desperate in their need. The moment she touched his belt, his other arm scooped her up, holding him to her as they crossed the room.
Maybe they crossed the room. She didn’t know anything but the consuming taste of the mouth fighting hers. It wasn’t dominance. No, he had superiority in sex, and she gave it of her own freewill. Both wanted something, they needed what they could only get from the other.
They fell to the bed, their lips never parting. Not until his trekked down her throat.
“Conn…” she begged, raising her hips.
He ripped open her shirt and dropped to kiss her stomach, running his hands up over her breasts. She loosened her skirt, kicking off her shoes, working to rid the fabric from her body. Desperation in their desire, like someone or something could steal them from each other any second, their urgency ratcheted up.
“Please…” she pleaded, pushing on his shoulders. His mouth kept on going until his tongue was on her clit. When his finger slipped into her, she yelped. “Oh, Conn…”
“You’re wet,” he panted, rising to kiss her again. “Hot for me, baby?”
He had no idea, not if he was wasting time with words. “You enjoy it,” she whined, undulating against his probing digit. “Torturing me.”
“You accused me of it the night we met,” he said, running his tongue along her lower lip.
“Stop talking and fuck me, McDade!”
His lips curled as he reached between them to open his pants. She helped unbuckle his belt and wasn’t even surprised when he tore open the rubber with his teeth. The guy must take protection literally everywhere.
Her belly clenched when he pushed into her. “Conn,” she hissed, her head going all the way back as her body responded to his.
There was no easing in. He took her hard and fast, filling and depriving her in such swift strokes, she was still panting his name in grief as he returned to his place inside her. Sex wasn’t supposed to feel like that, it wasn’t supposed to feel like the answer to every question in the universe.
Fear? Worry? None of it meant anything. This was all there was.
As her eyes opened to his determination, her hand rose to his face. So much satisfaction came in pleasing the man, in giving herself to him with such open abandon, no barriers stood between them.
For the first time in her life, a brief flash of resentment toward their condom only enhanced her pleasure. That was how much she wanted to belong to him, how much she longed to be the only one beneath him, offering him shelter and acceptance.
“Macushla,” he panted, his control ragged in the growl of his voice. “Ser…”
“I’m with you, baby,” she gasped, grabbing for the back of his neck. “Shit, Conn! I’m—”
His long growl came with a thrust that hit her so deep, she felt it in every trembling nerve.
“Conn…” she sighed, her palm moving to his cheek.
“I need you to tell me…” he said, breathing hard. “You need to tell me the truth.”
“I will,” she said. “I know I should’ve said something this morning—”
“No,” he said, taking her hand from his face as he dropped onto his back beside her. Flattening her palm on his chest, he rolled his head on the pillow to meet her eye. “How far did you go with him?”
Evander again already. Had he been on her lover’s mind the whole time they were screwing?
“In the deli? He took my hand and—”
“Has he fucked you?”
“No,” she said, propping herself on an elbow. “No! Conn, we’ve never even kissed. Not…” Swaying his way, she pressed her mouth to his. “It’s so different…” Sliding her hand out from beneath his on his chest, she unbuttoned his shirt. “I was nineteen when we met. A bunch of us got fake IDs and ended up in one of the Manzani clubs. I can’t even remember now if we knew that.” She semi-shrugged, opening his shirt to stroke his torso. “I probably did. My dad was in the organized crime division for years… We were partying, thought we were all that and…”
“He hit on you?”
“Yeah,” she said, watching her fingers caress his flesh. “He came over with so much swagger… He was a kid then too, I guess, twenty-something, mid-twenties. He was probably used to getting every girl he winked at. All the guys with him, they hooked up with my friends… I ended up calling Lach for a ride home. He’d always said I could call no matter what, and he said nothing in the car, but…”
Relaxing onto her back again, she covered her eyes. What was she doing? All he’d wanted to know was if she and Evander ever slept together. Of course he needed to know that if he was going to confront the guy.
“But what?” he asked, scooping her breast from her bra cup.
His mouth was around her nipple when her hand dropped from her face. “You don’t care,” she said, sitting up to take off her shirt and bra only to lie back down. “It doesn’t matter. Point is, Evander didn’t get lucky. He never got lucky with me. We’ve never made out. No first base, second base, nothing—”
“But what?” he asked, his eyes on hers though he massaged her breast. “McLeod said nothing, but…?”
“You don’t have to confront Evander about the deli,” she said. “Not on my behalf. I understand you want to protect your people, you should. I know you’re responsible for them and I apologize they got caught up in this, that you got caught up in this. I told you I didn’t need protection and I meant it.”
“We’re so far past that point,” he said, sitting up. “You’ll move in here—”
“I’m not moving in here,” she said, sitting up as he rose from the bed to go into the closet. “I can’t live here. How will that help? Do you have men who live here full time?”
“Stag is completely secure.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” she said. “Unless you plan to set one of your guys up to take the heat, Evander will keep coming for your people.”
For as long as she and Connel were involved anyway. As long as she kept visiting Stag and staying the night.
“It’s Friday,” he called out.
Scooching to the edge of the bed, she wrapped the sheet around her body. “Which means?”
“He’ll be in Hustle all night.”
“Hustle…” she murmured to herself, then shot to her feet to storm into the closet. “His sex club? You want me to go to his sex club?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, typing on his phone. His shirt was gone, his pants still open. “Dasha will be here in twenty minutes. She’s got a card; get whatever you need new. Manzani will be watching your place, avoid it. Avoid tipping our hand.”
“I can’t live under siege,” she said, going closer. “And you can’t shut me out. I caused this…” Right in front of him, she still didn’t get his attention. “Can I see Daly? I need to apologize.”
He looked at her. “He’s at the doc’s.”
“A hospital?”
“With a guy on payroll.”
And she could argue with him, but things worked differently in his world. She’d studied it, talked about it, read, learned, but this was her first time living it that deep.
“This’ll never work,” she said, laying a hand over the phone to stop it distracting him.
“It’s under control.”
“I can’t live here, Connel. I have an apartment.”
“I can’t secure it like I can Stag. You have an army here.”
“Is this your pride again? You just can’t be incapable, can you? My family won’t understand. They’ll ask questions. And my boss? What about my work? I’m in the middle of an investigation.”
“Baby, don’t worry about work,” he said. “My guys will go over there—”
“To scare the shit out of my boss?” she asked and smiled. “Steeple is a good guy. He takes care of his people.”
“Not that good. You’re mixed up with me and Vex.”