My emotions were all over the place. Bitter sadness seeped from my pores like rivers of sweat after a long jog. I wanted to forget the heaviness of the previous conversation and lose myself, if only for a short while. It was why he’d showed up at my door anyway, wasn’t it? The whole ice cream thing? Yeah, that was a bunch of bullshit, unless ice cream was code for pussy. Inventive but still bullshit.
I could pretend for one night that he was my champion, so in love, he would sacrifice himself on his sword in order to save me from the clutches of evil. That it wasn’t his business in jeopardy that sent us to seek out O’Brien, but his desire to protect me from that fish-tacking moron and his hideous wife. That Mac was all mine, and I was forever his. I needed that dream tonight, and perhaps, he did too.
I straddled his waist without thinking. The feel of his bulge against my core sent a shot of pleasure throughout my body. God, I needed those endorphins. Mac instinctively took over. His hands wrapped around my waist while he glided my hips back and forth over the length of his hardness. We were both breathing heavily at the contact, eyes focused on one another. I stood from his lap and removed my camisole. Cool air blew against my already hardened nipples. A moan escaped from my lips. My body shook with a need so powerful it nearly took me back to the floor. The sleep pants went next; my fingers hooked themselves in the elastic waistband and tugged downward until they shimmied past my knees. I kicked them off somewhere, not giving that first fuck where they landed.
My naked body matched my naked soul.
Stripped down, I felt empty.
“I need you, Darragh.”
Brows pinched, he growled. “Take those fucking stars out of your eyes, Otelia. In my world, Romeo killed Juliet then banged her sister on top of her freshly dug grave. You need to know the danger in what you are asking. My cock comes with a warning label.”
I ignored the handwriting on the wall.
“Yes.” I exhaled. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Mac removed his leather jacket. The heavy steel of a gun strapped to his side clattered along the stiffness of the fabric. He wanted me to see all of him, to understand what I was getting myself into. Danger was part of his life, and I could either accept that or move along. I extended my hand with a decisive quirk of my brow. Challenge accepted. Ten steps to my bedroom, and the anticipation was turning my insides to mush. My body was primed and ready to take all this man had to give. I stood by the edge of the bed, thankful I’d made it up that morning with a clean set of sheets. Mac tracked my movements with a predatory gleam in his eyes, the bulge in his pants screaming to be released. When he started to unbutton his shirt, slow and methodical, I nearly came on the spot. The flash of skin was all I could take.
Inches apart.
So damn close.
I ran my hands down his muscled chest, lightly sprinkled with dark curly hair, relishing its silky feel beneath my fingertips. Mac belonged on the cover of Thugs with Bank fitness magazine, if there was such a thing. Peaks and valleys, dips and dives, his sexily steady heartbeat thrumming against my breasts. Have mercy. The freak in me couldn’t hold back for long. My nose made its way along his stubbled chin, the underside of his neck, down his rib cage, then back up to his Adams apple. My tongue made a wide circle along the bulging skin before I eagerly took it inside my mouth and gently sucked. Mac rewarded me with an animalistic noise deep within his throat that vibrated against my lips, a cross between a growl and a moan. A stiff hand between my breasts sent my ass flying across the bed, panting, anxious, dizzy with lust. Mac’s gun hit the floor, his pile of clothes on top of it.
Gloriously naked.
Tonight, he would be my grand adventure.
CHAPTER 31
MacCabe
FUCK…BITCHES.
Get…money.
I’d heard those lyrics on my satellite radio one day when I was channel surfing. Some rap bullshit with a catchy beat that wasn’t my usual cup of tea, but for some reason, they stuck with me. It seemed apropos for the way I had been living my life at the time. Once Bella kicked my ass to the curb, it was down with love and up with money. Emotions never mixed well with bloodstains anyway. The beautiful naked blonde lying next to me had pushed all my boundaries right over the side of a cliff, and I’d jumped headfirst without a parachute. There wasn’t a solid structure in this room that I hadn’t tried to fuck her on. Otelia took it all and begged me for more.
I’d been watching her sleep for hours. Curled at my side with her soft ass cheeks pressed against my thigh, her sated sighs of contentment the only noise coming from her. I should’ve been making phone calls, gathering intel, setting traps, anything to ward off O’Brien. Instead, I was hugged up on an antique mattress with a woman who had every right to hate my guts. After the trash I’d spewed last night, I was beginning to hate my own guts. Otelia accused me of being one dimensional, only caring about the job. She’d been right but also wrong.
Otelia’s earnest confessions shook my hardened soul. They opened my eyes to how I ranked things in my life in order of importance. Before she came along, it was work, an occasional piece of random pussy, then back to work. I never gave much thought to starting a family of my own, not after everything that happened with Bella. Funny thing, after listening to Otelia talk about her loss for half the night, my shit just seemed…inconsequential. Sure, Bella’s disregard drove me, but I refused to believe it was my only motivating force. I craved the power my reputation afforded me. The strength to snap my fingers and end someone’s life if I wanted them gone. My father was right though—something was missing after a long day of scrapping in the pit. The world was a dark place, but I was darker.
I’d pegged Otelia as one of those gutless pretenders, playing the role of flirtatious damsel in distress until a rich husband came along. I was so up my own ass with that one. Fucking sickening. Her story was a sad one, but she never let it stop her. She was a feisty little kitten who wasn’t afraid to use her claws. Most importantly, she was loyal, loyal to a dead man who was once the love of her life. Her devotion lasted beyond the here and now, through the afterlife, his soul lost forever. Bella, on the other hand, had thrown in the towel before I was legally allowed to vote.
Like I said, too much and not enough.
Otelia stirred in her slumber. Her silken hair tickled my shoulder, prompting me to reach out and touch it. She really was something else. I needed one more taste before I left her alone to tend to her life. The thought of being away from her for any length of time caused a rumble inside my chest, and I fucking hated it. What the fuck was happening to me?
She’d barely opened her eyes before I was between her legs, leaning down above her. She gasped in surprise before shock turned into desire, her hips widening as she relaxed.
“Haven’t you had your fill of me yet, Mr. MacCabe?”
“Does it feel like it, kitty cat?” I rubbed the head of my cock along her slit.
“Pfft. Morning wood. Totally natural.” She smirked.
Jokes, bright and early? I’d give her something to laugh about. Discarded condoms littered her nightstand, which made it easy to grab one and strap up. I reached between our joined bodies and gripped the shaft of my dick. We moaned in unison as I slammed into her wet heat, knowing she was ready to take me. I stilled before pumping into her, allowing her time to get used to the feeling of fullness.