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“I could get used to this,” I said, eyeing her pink-tinged skin, her wet hair and the way the navy towel barely hid everything I knew so well.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “What meeting?” she asked, obviously overhearing the tail-end of our conversation.
“With O’Sullivan.”
Surprise changed her expression. “You can’t be serious. He just shot up my kitchen and you want to meet with him?”
“We’ll have enough dirt on him by the time we get there to make a deal.”
“There? Where’s there?”
She gripped the knot between her breasts and I sighed. Now wasn’t the time to tug the terry cloth off her and have our way with her again.
“An Irish bar on Sixty-Third,” Leo said, cutting around me to put his hands on her shoulders. He bent at the waist so they were eye level. “Sugar, you stay here and we’ll be back soon.”
“What? You can’t be serious! I can’t let you meet with that guy because of me. It’s my fault you’re in this.”
“And we’ll get you out. We protect what’s ours,” he said, his voice adamant.
Yeah, we were going to solve this shit once and for all.
“It’s a trap or at least dangerous,” she countered.
Leo shrugged. “It’s not a trap since we know about it. As for dangerous? He’s not going to kill us in a restaurant, at least not while he’s there. We’ll be safe.”
She laughed at that.
Leo pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then pulled back. “Stay here. I’ll have men at the door.” He kissed her again, this time with a hell of a lot more heat.
When he walked down the hall, he pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, checked the ammo. As he went to talk to his men, I kissed her next.
“While I like having you dressed like this, put some clothes on. I don’t want anyone else seeing you the way we do.”
My fingertip drifted across the upper swells of her breasts.
“Back soon.” I walked away before I lost control and ripped the towel from her.
I wanted it all with her. First, we needed to deal with a mafia kingpin and make a fucking deal. And this was no game show.
Fifteen
HARPER
Back soon?
Seriously?
I stood in Dane’s penthouse hallway, once again in just a towel, the front door quietly clicking shut behind them.
I’d heard the guys coming out of Dane’s home office and wanted to hear the latest. I’d spent too long in the shower, savoring the heat and tried to let the shooting incident wash down the drain along with the sticky remnants of the honey and the lube from the...fun kitchen times.
God, I’d gotten it on with two guys in my kitchen and then gotten shot at. What the hell? I wasn’t like this. I never had wild sex and I never had anyone interested in shooting at me.
I also hadn’t had two guys who were willing to face a guy like O’Sullivan for me. And it was for me. If they hadn’t helped me the night before, I would have been on my own. They’d be doing their own thing while I’d be...well, dead.
But taking care of this mess for me? I wanted them to just make it all better, yet I wasn’t five. I had to take care of this myself, and while I showered, I’d thought of a way on my own. Since they weren’t here, I could work on it on my own. Shamus O’Sullivan may wear the pants in the family outside of the house, but Betsy O’Sullivan, his wife of thirty years, definitely ran the household.
And she was my client. And her husband had shot up my work kitchen. I’d make this right, my way. I couldn’t be a wuss about it. I’d been there, done that in the car. I’d let the guys coddle me. But that wasn’t me. This was my shit, and I was going to deal with it. Once I talked to Mrs. O’Sullivan, I’d talk to her husband. Leo mentio
