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When Sullivan pulls into the gated street—I still find it mind-blowing they’ve gated a fucking street—and then into the driveway of the house, where the gates slowly roll open, I see it for what it is: home.
The garage opens as we drive up, and I smile to see an empty spot with my name on the wall. Sullivan pulls in and slips from the car. Once he comes around to open my door, he holds out his hand, and as I take it, he pulls me into his arms.
“Have a bath with me?” he asks.
“Okay,” I say, and follow him through the house, to his room, and into the en suite. I jump up onto the counter as he runs the bath, letting my legs dangle, and watch as he tips something into the water. When he stands again, he turns to me, and my gaze is riveted on him as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he says, stepping closer. “I was in shock that Sam was back, and there, of all places.”
He steps between my legs, and I lay my hands on his chest. I love the way his chest hair feels beneath my palms.
“How about we call it even? You know, since I tried to run from you and almost killed Cian?”
Sullivan chuckles. “Deal, you’re one of the most important people in my life—maybe even the most important. When you ran, I thought I should have chased you. Then we could have run away together.”
I can’t contain my gasp—he would have run away with me. I slide my hands up his chest until they are on either side of his face. “Sullivan, I wouldn’t have let you do that. But you don’t have to worry, I’m not running anymore. I found what I was looking for right under my nose. Now I know you will let me figure out who I am, so you’re stuck with me, and no amount of money could sway me to leave. You’re mine, Sullivan O’Brien. Mine. Even if it means standing in the path of a bullet.”
His beautiful green eyes lock with mine. “Please never do that again.”
I nod because I can’t promise him, and if he misunderstands, so be it.
He leans forward and his lips press against mine as his hand snakes up my neck. His lips part and I taste our mixed breath as our mouths move slowly, causing heat to pool between my legs. His lips are soft against mine and the slight hint of mint lingers against my tongue as it touches his. My hands roam the ridges of his back, and all the tension he carries vanishes beneath my touch.
He breaks our kiss and presses his forehead against mine. “Fuck, I don’t think I could live without you. You’re it for me, Harper Rae Daniels. If you even try to leave, I will follow you around like a lovesick puppy.”
“Ditto,” I tell him as he pulls me down from the counter and unbuttons Ronan’s shirt from my body. “The others will have to deal with you following me around everywhere. It could end up being a full-time gig.”
Sullivan smiles at me. “I’m happy to share you with them. But if any other man even looks at you, what happened today with your security guard will be child’s play.”
“Maybe we should find a female. That way there are no more unnecessary deaths.”
“I like the sound of that,” he says as he leans down and sucks my nipple into his mouth.
My back slightly arches as I push my breast into his face, and a moan slips from my lips. My hands find the button on his jeans and I flick it open, sliding the zip down and hooking my fingers on either side of his waistband. I help pull his jeans and boxer briefs over his hard cock and ass until the material falls the rest of the way to the floor. He steps out of his clothes and leads us to the tub. Sullivan enters the water first, and I smirk, knowing he wants me on top—thankfully the bath is massive—and when I step over the side and lower myself to straddle his body, there is plenty of room. His cock juts out between us, and I wrap my hand around his length, squeezing him from base to tip. He bucks his hips impatiently, so I line myself up and lower my pussy over him, slowly sliding down until he is balls deep inside me.
Languidly, I rock my hips, grinding my clit against his pubic bone as I look into his eyes. For the first time in my life, I make love to a man. No fucking, and no money exchanged for faking the girlfriend experience.
It’s just me and him, here together, showing each other how we feel without words.
We might be in over our heads, but there isn’t anyone else I would want here right now. I know I’m safe with Sullivan. I know he cares about my best interests, and I can feel how much he cares about me at this moment . . . and I hope it feels like this for a long time.
Sullivan guides me down to kiss him, wrapping his arm around me and pulling my entire body snug against his own. My movements are still slow and drawn out, and we kiss and grind together until I shatter around him.
I guess I jumped into the deep end, but I don’t even care if I can swim because I know this man is right there to catch me either way.
Ronan and Van have barely spoken, and I can’t say I blame Van—what happened was fucked. But if the roles were reversed, and it was Cian, I would have probably killed the bitch once she took the money.
Harper, however, is slowly growing on me, and I no longer hate her. Who the fuck am I kidding? I never hated her—she was just the easiest person to blame when it came to my complicated relationship with Cian. We skirted the lines of friendship for years, but when he drunkenly offered to suck me off, I panicked. I can’t lose my best friend, he’s the only person who got me through the hard times. He gave me a family, one who actually loves me. I realize now I should never have gone to The Range and started fucking Dylan; it was my twisted way to convince myself I wasn’t gay. I wanted to hate it but I didn’t. As much as I never believed the hateful shit my family spewed at me, I couldn’t help but try to prove them wrong.
As I walk into the kitchen, I’m surprised to find Harper standing over the cooktop making pancakes. It was her first shift back at The Range last night as the woman in charge—or do they call them madams? Fucked if I know. Her booty shakes in time with whatever song she has playing in her head, and with each movement, her ass cheeks peek out from beneath whoever’s shirt she is wearing.
My cock hardens beneath my sweats, and I’m momentarily shocked it’s for her. I feel guilty—I’m not gay after all. Is it bad that on one hand I hoped I was as a fuck you to my family, but on the other I’m relieved? How fucked up is the fact that apparently not only do I want to face fuck my best friend, but I also wouldn’t mind bending his woman over the counter and fucking her ass?
She doesn’t hear me come up behind her due to the earbuds in her ears, and I feel her body stiffen when my bare chest is almost touching her back. Plucking an earbud from her ear, I whisper, “Your body is a man’s wet dream,” as my pointer finger feathers her skin just below her ass cheeks.
Harper pushes her sexy ass back, though I know it’s pushing me away rather than to rub against me. I take a small step back, but I’m still too close for her liking, and as she spins around to face me, she holds the spatula out, pressing the corner into my chest.
“I know how my body looks, Darragh, hence the whore job description. But you don’t get to touch what doesn’t belong to you just because you now see something you like. Plus, you need to sort shit out with Cian. Don’t you think you owe him that much?”
