by KB Winters
I loved seeing him on the brink of orgasm, trying to hold off his release and pleasure in order to please me. And it wouldn’t be long. My body had already almost been there twice before he’d stopped—much to my protests. But then we’d continued right where we left off with my pussy tightening around him. My body ached for release, but at the same time, it wanted this to go on and on. I loved having him deep inside of me, but I needed to come and let out all of the built-up sensations. Needed it as badly as I needed to fucking breathe.
A giant wave of pleasure hit me quickly and powerfully. It was too fast and too strong for me to control. My eyes grew wide as I dug my nails into his back, rising to meet his thrust and holding his body tight with both my arms and legs.
“Aidan—Oh God, Aidan—I’m…fucking…coming…” My words stopped making sense at that point as I clawed and screamed and lost all control of my limbs—not to mention, my mind. The tightness in my pussy had become one big spasm-fest, each one more intense and pleasurable than the last until I wasn’t sure I could take much more.
And it was at that point, Aidan let out a low grunt—a groan that sounded more animal than human as he buried himself deep inside of me. With his eyes clenched shut and his breathing ragged, he filled my aching cunt with his warm, wet seed. The feeling of him unloading inside of me only kept my climax going stronger as we came, our bodies sweating and bucking against one another as we rode the waves of pleasure together.
With his breathing ragged and his heart hammering so hard in his chest that I could feel it, Aidan collapsed on top of me. He looked at me and smiled a quirky grin, one I’d never seen before, and ran his hand through my hair, pushing it off of my face.
We fell together in one big, satisfied lump on the couch, our arms and legs tangled up together as we rested in silence, enjoying the feeling of simply being together as one.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aidan
We must have fallen asleep like that—lying together, our bodies intertwined on the couch. Somehow, we’d managed to position ourselves more comfortably with Maggie resting on top of me, both of us still half naked. Her body pressed to mine was a warm, sweet feeling I enjoyed immensely. I would’ve been content to remain like that for a while, but unfortunately, something woke me up.
I wasn’t sure what it was but it caused my eyes to open wide as I looked around the dark living room. The clock on the mantle said it was just after midnight—which meant we’d been passed out for a couple of hours. Whatever I’d heard that had pulled me out of sleep, Maggie remained oblivious to it. She was still asleep with her head resting comfortably on my chest.
I listened, straining my ears, but only heard silence. After a moment, I figured I’d just imagined the whole thing and started to close my eyes, reveling in the feel of Maggie’s body pressed to mine, and wanting to get some more sleep. Just as I’d started to drift off, I heard it again, and this time, it was very clear. This time, it was in the same room we were.
I rolled Maggie off of me onto the couch, then slowly got to my feet.
“What’s wrong,” she started to ask, her voice still heavy with sleep.
“Shhh…we’re not alone,” I said quietly, my voice barely more than a whisper.
There was a chill in the air as well as an overwhelming sense of anticipation and foreboding hanging over our heads. Maggie didn’t say another word, almost like she was too afraid to speak, but I heard her breathing—soft, growing a little more ragged—as fear poured adrenaline into her body.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but I did my best to keep her behind me. And then it hit me—I could have sworn the lights were on when we’d fallen asleep. Which meant whoever was there, hiding in the dark, had turned them off. It was an ominous feeling that took me a second to get used to. My heart thundered in my chest, and I struggled to keep my breathing under control—there was no shame in admitting I was fucking terrified.
Then a voice spoke from the darkness that sent a dagger of ice plunging through my heart.
“No, you’re not alone, Maggie,” the voice said, then laughed.
Maggie moved to sit up, obviously shaken by the strange voice, but I held her back. Kept her behind me. Reaching for my pants, I went for my gun, but he spoke again. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was near the doorway to the kitchen.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Aidan.”
I stopped. Finally, my eyes adjusted to the dark room, and the street lights filtering in through the windows illuminated it enough, I was able to make out his face. I already knew who it was from the voice alone, but until I saw him, I couldn’t be sure this wasn’t all a dream.
“What do you want, Amon?”
“I want to talk, brother,” he said.
“I’m not your brother.”
“No, I may not be in your precious little brotherhood, but you can’t deny DNA evidence, Aidan,” he said, his voice cold. “Not anymore, you can’t.”
Amon flipped on the lamp next to where he was sitting in the chair across from us. His gaze fell on Maggie, and he gave her a smile and an approving nod.
“You did well, brother. She’s a hot little lass. No denying it, aye.”
Color flared in Maggie’s cheeks as she quickly reached for the throw on the back of the couch. Grabbing it before she was able to, I covered her up. When I turned back, I wondered how long he’d been there, watching us sleep.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked. “Is it really so fucking important to break into my house at midnight and scare the shite out of us like this?”
“Oh, it was most certainly worth it. For the view alone, if anything.” He smirked and looked back at Maggie.
She averted her eyes, looking down at the floor, and I felt her shudder against me—I highly doubted it was from the cold. I didn’t want him looking at her, and if it wasn’t for the piece he held on his lap, I’d have bashed his face in for looking.
“Get on with it already,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”
If there was one thing about Amon that bothered me—and there was a lot—it was that he was annoying as hell. Like an obnoxious little brother who always wanted to be up in your business—except he wasn’t our brother. As much as he wanted to be, he was not an O’Brien. Nor would he ever be, if I had my say. But dangerous? Nah. I never felt like he was a threat, even now.
Of course, sneaking into my house in the middle of the night and ogling the girl I was involved with took his creep factor up about ten levels.
“You know all those rumors about your da and me mum? Well, funny thing—turns out they were more than just rumors. Fact is, they were true. Me mum wasn’t a liar, not like your da took great pains to make her out to be. And I finally have the proof right here,” he said, holding up an envelope and tossing it at my feet. “DNA evidence that proves I am Donal O’Brien’s son. Your brother.”
I looked down at the envelope, fearful that the contents it held would validate Amon’s claim—regardless, he’d never be welcomed into the family. He’d never be a damned O’Brien.
“Doesn’t make you my brother,” I said, gritting my teeth. “No matter what some piece of paper says, you never have been and never will be part of our family. You’re not welcome around here.”
“And why not, Aidan? Let’s face it—with Flynn gone, you’re running the show, but are you happy? Do you enjoy having that target on ya back all day, every day?”
“I’m happy enough.”
Amon looked at me, then over at Maggie. “Do ya think we should be havin’ this conversation with your pretty little lass in the room?”
“Say what you have to say and get the fuck out,” I snapped.
Amon cocked his eyebrow, as if he were taunting me. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since she helped you clean up the murder, after all.”
Maggie’s body tensed up beside me, and she let out a small gasp of surprise—perhaps even fear. I wrap
ped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close, and tried to reassure her with my touch. Kissing the top of her head, I let her know—in my own little way—that everything was going to be okay.
“How did he—” she asked, looking up at me.
“I don’t know what you’re feckin’ talking about, Amon,” I said, cutting Maggie off before she said too much, and stared at him with a blank face.
“Oh ya don’t, do ya?” he scoffed. “Funny, because I swore I sent a hitman to your office and somehow, he ended up dead and buried somewhere in the middle of Illinois. Thought you and your lass might have had something to do with that. Was I wrong to make such an assumption? Maybe he just ran into somebody with a contract out on him?”
Maggie opened her mouth to speak, but I hushed her. No need to give this arsehole any more information than he already knew. Besides, I had a question of my own.
“So, you were trying to kill me? That assassin came from you.”
Amon shrugged. “Not really. I figured you’d come out ahead. You O’Brien’s always seem to manage to. But I knew it would get your attention—and the attention of your brothers, too. But if you had died, things would have been even easier for me. It was a win—win either way, as far as I saw it.”
As he spoke, the pieces started falling into place. Everything started to finally make sense.
“You wanted to make me look weak,” I said. “You wanted the brothers to think I was weak and ineffectual—and what, remove me? Kill me?”
“Aye. I’d say I succeeded, lad. At least on the first part of that equation.”
“I’ll agree to disagree with you on that, lad,” I said. “I can hold my own.”
“Just barely. And growing weaker by the day,” he said. “I have my sources, Aidan. You can’t lie to me.”
“So, you want to oust me and take over the family business, eh? That’s your endgame?”
“Something like that,” he said, yawning into his hand. “But as nice as this visit has been, and it has been nice,” he winked at Maggie, “I should get going. We can discuss the details of your abdication of the throne later. Now that I have your attention and you’re willing to talk to me. I’d hate to leak the info about the man ya killed and disposed of. Not sure your legal career, or your girlfriend’s, could handle such a scandal. Do you?”
“Get the fuck out, you dirty son of a bitch!”
***
He left as quickly and as quietly as he’d come. I considered reaching for my gun as he left, but I stopped. Flynn would have had no problem shooting Amon in cold blood, but I reined in the urge. I wasn’t Flynn—which was exactly the weakness that prevented me from being a strong leader. I wasn’t as cold-blooded and ruthless as I needed to be. I actually had a damn conscious. One I’d have to stifle if I wanted to protect myself and Maggie.
But Amon was my brother, or at least he claimed to be, and that made my head spin. That changed everything. Maggie was shaking, but I watched as her facial expression shifted from fear to rage, and she lashed out at me.
“How the hell did he get in here?” she almost screamed. “Don’t you have bodyguards out there somewhere?”
“I do,” I said quietly.
Slowly, I reached for my pants and slipped them on without uttering another word. I was afraid I already knew what I was going to find when I walked outside, but knew that I had no choice except to go out there and see it for myself.
“And they just let him walk right in here?”
“I doubt they let him walk in, Maggie,” I said, the feeling of dread growing in my belly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
I threw on my shirt, and Maggie stood up to follow me. “Stay here where you’ll be safe. Besides, I doubt you’ll want to see this.”
“See what?” She pulled the blanket up over her, covering more of her body as she stared up at me.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer, so I didn’t. I simply turned and started to walk out of the room.
Maggie continued lashing out at me, though. “I thought you said Amon wasn’t a threat? You told me to trust you.”
“Do you trust me, Maggie?” I turned back and locked eyes with her. “Do you truly trust me?”
Her voice softened. “Of course I do.”
“Then trust me when I say that I’m as shocked as you are about all of this. “Amon was never a problem before. He’s never been a serious threat. Something obviously changed, and I don’t what. Not yet, anyway. But I need to find out.”
I wondered what had changed. But then again, I didn’t know Amon very well. Maybe the change I saw in him wasn’t as drastic as I thought. We ran in similar circles—or at least our parents had. His mother—Catherine Flannigan—was often seen at syndicate events. Many people thought she was trying to marry into the mob, that she was after my father’s money.
And eventually, Amon came around and was just there. He wasn’t a friend, as he wasn’t technically part of the family himself. He was an outsider, and yeah, we gave him hell for it. Flynn and I gave the kid a ton of shite just because we could. Just because he wasn’t one of us. As much as he wanted to be, he’d never be one of us.
For years, he’d tried to tell us he was an O’Brien, that our father was his father, but we refused to listen. We thought it was yet another ploy by somebody desperate to get into our family. To get their hooks into our money. Catherine was still alive, recently divorced, so we assumed she’d put him up to it. He was harmless.
So we thought.
I walked outside into the cold evening air, steeling myself for the worst. Gerard was on night duty. He was one of my most trusted men. But as I stepped outside, I didn’t see him anywhere. Nor did I see his body. But I saw enough blood on the ground to know that whatever had happened out there, he likely hadn’t survived it.
“Fuck,” I said, shaking my head.
Where was my feckin’ brother when I needed him? Where was anybody who could help me navigate through this ocean of shite?
Flynn would have known how to handle it. I was great in a crisis, and my big brother always knew how to fix things like this. But without him here, I was supposed to turn to my brothers—the feckin’ Irish mob—for help and support. Just the idea of letting them in on this and showing them another sign of weakness on my part was a bad idea I rejected immediately. I couldn’t reach out to them for help. Not with this.
If I couldn’t find Flynn, I’d have to fight back on my own. I had to stop the crazy son of a bitch before he hurt not only me but Maggie as well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maggie
Nothing like waking up to a gangster staring at me while I slept. Sure, I was okay with Aidan keeping an eye on me, even if it had been through supposedly secret video cameras. But Amon was something else entirely. The man gave me the creeps right down to my bones. When Aidan watched me sleep, I thought it was kinda hot. When some random stranger, especially one as creepy as Amon, broke in and did it? Yeah, not so much.
As I sat on the edge of his bed, I knew there was no chance I’d get a lick of sleep for the rest of the night. I was too rattled and freaked out. Aidan was outside checking with his security detail, presumably, including video surveillance, but had told me to get some sleep.
I laid down and closed my eyes, trying to drift off despite the fact that I already knew it was a futile gesture. Even in Aidan’s bedroom, with him down the hall along with a bunch of armed guards nearby, I couldn’t shut my brain off enough to rest.
So many questions spun through my mind as I tossed and turned—questions for Aidan, questioning myself as well. Who was Amon? He said he was Aiden’s brother. Was he? And if he was, what did his appearance mean for me—if anything? Because the truth of the matter was, I cared for Aidan a lot. What I felt for him was more than just thigh-clenching lust, and the more intimate we became, the more it felt like love.
Too soon? Maybe. But I had been crushing on him for years. I knew damn near everything about him and none of this, outside
the last couple of weeks, came as a surprise to me. I didn’t want his so-called half-brother to screw things up between us. I’d waited too long for Aidan.
Voices of Aidan and his men drifted down the hall. I strained my ears to listen. I’d learned at work how to eavesdrop as quietly as possible. Even to slow my breathing. I hated feeling like I was out of the loop, especially with something as freaky and dangerous as this. I was involved in this mess and had a right to know what the hell was going on.
“It’s confirmed then?” Aidan asked.
A strange man with a deep voice answered him. “Yes. Gerard is dead.”
There was a silence that followed that simple three-word declaration.
Gerard is dead.
I hardly knew the man on a personal level, but it still broke my heart to hear of his death. He didn’t deserve to die. No one did. I felt terrible for him and his family—if he had any. And Aiden? What was he going to do? Kill his brother?
“What happened?” I heard Aidan ask. “How the hell did he manage to sneak up on Gerard? He was the best guard we have on staff. How did this happen?”
“Beats me,” the other man said. “Unfortunately, we couldn’t see much from the security footage. Most of what happened, happened off screen. About the only thing I can tell you is that this man is good. Very good. Professional. Any idea who it might be?”
More silence, then Aidan answered, “No. No idea.”
I sat up and looked at the door. Aidan was lying through his teeth, and I had no idea why he’d lie about who it was that killed his man. And I sure as hell didn’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did. To keep a secret from the very men hired to protect him—who put their lives on the line every day for him—seemed a bit callous to me. But at the same time, I had to admit, I knew very little about what was going on.
