Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“My da is no longer the head of this family. I am.” I raised my voice so it rang through the bar, wanting everyone present to hear what I had to say.
“He made the deal when he was in charge o’ the O’Reillys and you’re bound ta honor it now that ya stepped inta his shoes.”
“My da had no honor.” I looked him up and down in distaste, wrinkling my nose. “I’m thinkin’ my da musta been drunk or worse to agree to marry me off to the likes of you. But even if he was stone cold sober, it wouldn’t matter. I’m my own woman, not a slave. I wasn’t his to trade. Therefore, the deal, whatever it was, is null and void.”
I swiveled my head, locking eyes with every member of the O’Reilly organization in the room before returning my gaze to the man claiming to be my fiancé. “It would do you well to remember that I put my own da in his grave. I could easily do the same to you.”
Then I walked over to Nic, snagging two full shots of the finest Irish whiskey from the bar top on my way. I handed one to him, raising my own high in the air. “And don’t forget I’ve accomplished something my da never would have been able to do, an alliance with the DeLucas.”
“Salute,” Nic offered, his gaze filled with satisfaction as he lifted his glass to his lips and tossed the contents back.
“Sláinte,” I replied, following suit. With that, I marched out the door towards the limo, Brandon right behind me. The driver jumped out and hurried around the car to open the back, passenger door. My back stiffened when I heard Brandon tell the driver to take the long way home. I’d just pulled off a powerful exit, and here I was melting at his bossiness. I wished I could say it didn’t turn me on so damn much, but I wouldn’t be telling the truth. He must have felt the resistance in my body because the hand he’d kept on my lower back tightened. “Get in the fucking car, kitten.”
“Fine,” I huffed, more than a little irritated that he actually seemed pissed at me for something over which I’d had no control.
Brandon climbed in after me. His heated stare pinned me to my seat while the privacy window slowly rolled up. Before it made it all the way to the top, he was out of his seat and moving, his hands cupping my cheeks and his mouth covering mine.
Hmmm, maybe not so much pissed as feeling the need to demonstrate I was his. I could definitely work with that. I put everything I had into kissing him back, enjoying the feel of his plump but firm lips against mine. His tongue slid inside, tangling with mine and making me gasp as we battled for control of the kiss. My hands glided up his back, following the lines of his taut muscles. Then I traced up his neck, using my nails to scrape along his sensitive skin. His hands tightened on my cheeks, tilting my head upwards to deepen the kiss further. I moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair as I panted.
“Fuck, kitten,” he moaned, pulling his head a couple inches away to suck in a deep breath. “You’ve no idea how badly I need you right now.”
“Then take me,” I offered, leaning back in the seat to unbutton my black silk blouse.
I didn’t make it far before I found myself flat on my back with Brandon half on top of me, his fingers working their way through the rest of the buttons. He shoved the soft material wide, sleeves dangling from my shoulders, and ran the rough tips of his fingers along the top of my black lace bra.
“I hate the necessity of you wearing it today, but you look fucking hot in black.”
Lifting my hand from the leather seat, which I’d been clenching tightly, I wrapped it around his wrist. His gaze snapped up from the sight of my tits to my face, right where I wanted it. “Don’t you even,” I hissed. “Not for one moment, think I’m angry or upset or hurt by the fact that my da is dead and you’re the one who killed him.”
“But you were,” he muttered.
“For about a minute, and only because I was too blinded by anger to think about how I’d feel if I was the one to kill him myself,” I admitted. “I hated him so damn much, but he was still my da and you saved me from ever having to regret being the one to pull the trigger.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he vowed.
As crazy as it sounded, considering the way we’d met and the fact that I’d shot him in the leg, I believed him. It was impossible not to with everything he’d already done for me. But, after the hellishness of today, what I needed from him most was to make me forget.