Page 98 of Forbidden Need

He scooped her up off the counter. “You’ll get yours, Macushla.”

“I need something a little more… intimidating. A lot more intimidating.”

Stopping on the threshold of their room, he scrutinized her with concerned interest. “What do you need?”

“The security guy working the night of my grandfather’s death, Sneddon, he’s been absent, claiming PTSD. Some things the guy I spoke to said… I want to talk to him. This Sneddon.”

“You want the guys to bring him in? The basement’s at your disposal. He’ll tell you anything you want to know by the time we’re through with him.”

“No, I… thought I’d ask nicely first. Kinda nicely. Maybe play good cop to one of your bad cops?”

“What department?”

She laughed. “No, I don’t need an actual cop. Can I take a couple of your guys with me when I talk to him? Just to be a menacing presence. I would never ask them to do anything.”

“Ask? No. The McDades and their allies know to treat every word from your mouth as a direct order from me.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do with you,” he said, continuing until she was on her back in their bed. His hands skimmed high on her thighs. “McDade is in you now.”

“No,” she said, looping her arms around his neck. “But I hope he will be very…” she kissed him, “very,” another kiss, “soon, Mo Grá.”

Knowing the words was one thing, saying them aloud transformed them. Every minute that passed saw them fall deeper into their addiction. He said there was no line he wouldn’t cross for her. Trust him? Hadn’t he figured out yet that her dependence on him was almost complete? Together with him, she was invincible.

THIRTY-FOUR

ON WAKING, night still surrounded her, but no lover lay by her side.

Huh. Where did he…?

Voices carried from the living room. Was her guy out there? Someone was, and that someone wasn’t alone.

Dragging herself from the comfort of their bed, she donned one of his shirts and wandered through to join the voices.

Yep, her guy sat on his own in the middle of the couch. Other people, men, four of them stood. Two together at the far corner of the coffee table, one paced, one loitered behind the armchair.

“…the balance is my problem,” her guy said.

“Ire, we’ve gotta worry about the—”

On her approach, the others froze, though she didn’t care why. Rounding the couch, she slid one knee up the outside of Conn’s thigh and slung the other across his lap to sink against him, nuzzling his neck. With him in only sweats, only the fabric she wore kept her skin from his.

Arching her shoulders, she fumbled with one button and another, opening the shirt to rest her flesh on his. God, to be against the beat of his ferocious heart… The one reserved for her.

Kissing his neck, she rubbed herself on him, absorbing a settling peace.

“Worry?” Conn asked, stroking her hair down her back while talking over her. “Do what you’re told. That’s all you’ve gotta worry about.”

“You gotta know it, Ire. You gotta—shit.”

Smiling against his carotid, she trailed her hand upward and tried to pull her guy down for a kiss.

“Later, baby,” he said, catching her hand to lower it again. “Ash is worried. What you worried about, Ash? Tell my lady.”

“Bluebell’s the fucking superintendent’s daughter.”

“Aye.” Her guy kissed her knuckles. “You questioning her loyalty?”

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