Page 65 of No Lies No Promises

“I need you.” My hands drift to her hips.

As I tug her closer to my hard desire, her lashes lift.

“Me too.” Licking her lips, her dark pupils widen over her hazel irises.

Before anyone can interrupt us, I interlace our fingers and race her up the stairs. In our temporary bedroom, we toss off our clothes. Naked, panting, we touch each other all over, mending what was broken.

Unable to wait, I place myself at her slick, hot core.

“Eyes, babe.”

“Yes, sir.” Smiling, she arches up at the same time as I plunge.

“Sean!” Her nails dig into my back as she bucks for my next thrust and the next.

She meets my every move with the same desperation. The bed bangs the wall. Skin slaps skin. Nothing exists except us in this perfect moment.

As I slip a finger between our bodies to press her swollen nub, the already impossible pace increases.

When her ankles clamp behind my thighs, I can’t hold back.

“Fuuuck!” My balls fill. My back tingles.

“Yesssss!” she echoes.

We come as one. It’s so damn righteous, a tear slips down my cheek. No freakin’ way will I ever let her go.

Foggy from post-coital bliss, it takes me a few seconds to find my noisy phone.

Dante: We need to talk. Alone.

Me: Too bad. I’m taken.

Dante: You’re an idiot. Conf room.

Me: In 5.

My lovely fiancée doesn’t stir as I slip from the bed, find my clothes where I left them on the hallway floor, and dress. Sneakers in hand, I trot barefoot down the stairs.

Dante grins at my sex-mussed state. “Sorry to disturb.”

“What’s up?” Snatching a bottle of water and a sandwich, I drop onto the leather couch as he turns his laptop. “Mace found the missing ladies, right where Lillian said they’d be.”

“Thank God.” Relief loosens the knot in my gut. “I’ll just go tell her.”

“Hang on a second.” He taps his screen. “We traced the threatening robocall to Boyle.”

“Damn. Lil was right.” I thread my fingers through my hair. “He’s never going to give up.”

“Exactly why I wanted to talk to you. We’re going to kidnap Lillian, and she can’t know.”

Oh, hell to the no. “You got to be out of your fucking—” When I start to stand, he grabs my arm.

“Hear me out. If we don’t strike first, your headstrong woman will go after him without backup. We know how this could end.” He holds my gaze, waiting for me to admit he’s right.

“Go on.” I unwrap the egg salad on whole wheat.

As I take a bite, my friend says, “We’re going to make it appear as if Fitzpatrick did it.”