“Thank you. I’ll come straight away.”
I hang up the phone, and the anonymous bloke at the counter’s looking at me funny.
“You alright?” he asks.
No. No, of course I’m not alright.
My father’s shot himself.
I don’t know if he’s okay.
We’re not close and haven’t been for years, but at the end of the day, he’s my fucking father.
“Fine,” I lie. I shove the blanket off, thankful I’m still clothed. There are other mornings I wake and can’t say the same. I pull my mobile out again, and search for a cab ride.
“Where to, miss?”
I tell him my address, the place I once called home.
Aisling
With a belly full of food and the memory of what Tiernan’s done to me the past few days, I actually fall asleep with my wrists secured in cuffs. Not sure I could sleep for hours like this, but closing my eyes for a wee bit is better than staring at the bloody wall.
I’m dreaming when I hear the door squeak on its hinges, and my eyes fly open. I blink. Where was I in my sleep? The voice of someone I once knew still echoes in my mind when the door to the bedroom swings open, and Tiernan enters.
I like being bloody sober.
There’s a small part of me that misses the high of a hit, and the withdrawal symptoms linger, but they fade with each minute that passes. Whatever Sebastian gave me to help has done its magic, and Tiernan’s… attention… has definitely helped as well.
I let my gaze roam over him while he enters the room. When I was younger, I’d crushed on him a bit. My best friend’s older brother, he was… well, he was bloody hot, all strong and muscled and bossy. I told myself he wasn’t my type. I spent enough time with Fiona to know the men of the Clan are bossy and possessive, and really fucking overprotective.
But deep inside me, if I’m honest… I liked that, too.
I fantasized about meeting a man of the Clan when I was younger, but that was the stuff of fantasies. I even asked Fiona to set me up on a blind date, but I was only half-joking. In my logical mind, I didn’t want to be with a caveman like a McCarthy. I knew that Lachlan kept a close eye on Fiona, and even though a small part of me craved that—the undivided attention and devotion of a man who’d put me on a pedestal and treat me like a queen—I didn’t want to be under a man’s thumb.
And Tiernan was not only my best friend’s brother, but a man of the Clan, every bit as stern and unyielding as any of them. That wasn’t what kept me apart from him, though, not really. He didn’t see me as a woman, but a child, and I knew it. I was his younger sister’s little mate, and he’d just as soon pat me on the head and give me a lolly as he would look at me.
I couldn’t stand it. And when Fiona and I had our falling out… well, I’d just as soon cut off my right arm as I’d spend a moment with a man of the Clan. Way too fucking close to home for comfort.
But now… I don’t have much of a choice.
He wears a simple t-shirt and trousers, but the way he wears it… the knit fabric’s stretched tight over his shoulders and taut at the arms, and though it’s large and a little loose, it doesn’t hide the way his muscles flex as he moves. His longish hair’s reddish brown in the light, and my heart gives a little leap in my chest when his piercing eyes come to mine.
He’s commanded my body. Commanded my obedience.
Does he command my heart?
“I see you’ve behaved yourself,” he says with stern approval, reaching in his pocket to retrieve the key for the cuffs.
“Bloody hard to misbehave when you’re cuffed to a bloke’s headboard,” I mutter.
His stern lips twitch, though his brows are still furrowed. He kneels on one knee beside me, reaching for the cuffs. “Oh, I can think of plenty of ways of misbehaving while cuffed to a bloke’s headboard.”
My pussy clenches at that, and my body goes all tingly.
“Oh, can you, then?” I sound as eager as a little puppy, goddammit.
Lame, Aisling.
“Oh, aye,” he says. The key’s just at the edge of the lock, but he doesn’t unfasten me quite yet.
I lick my lips. “I suppose a bloke could…” I let my words trail off a little. “Take advantage of a girl, hmm?”
He nods thoughtfully, takes the keyring, then tosses the bloody thing to the bedside table. It hits the center with a clink.
He sits on the edge of the bed but doesn’t touch me. His eyes rove over my body.
“Could kiss every inch of you,” he says thoughtfully. “Lick and suckle my way down your body until you nearly came out of your skin.”
My body heats, and my breathing hitches.
“I could eat out that pretty pussy of yours until you came on my tongue,” he says softly, stroking his beard. His trousers tent, and it makes me even more eager for him than ever. I squeeze my thighs together as he continues. “I bet I could make you come in multiples.”
“If memory serves, you already have,” I mutter. “Multiple multiples.”
“Oh, I mean just with my tongue,” he says with nonchalance that sends my heartbeat skipping even harder.
“Sounds… um, good,” I whisper.
He stands and reaches for the edge of his t-shirt. Even his fluid movements as he tugs his shirt off and tosses it to the side make me eager for him. He’s all corded strength and ripped sinew, unbridled power and grace, and I fucking want him. He knows how to orchestrate my body, and he does it so bloody well.
He rejoins me in the bed wearing only his trousers. One hand on either
