He was sprawled on the couch, one thick arm propped behind his head, the other holding the whiskey bottle from last night—except now its contents had been reduced to nearly nothing, only a few mouthfuls remaining.
He was bare chested, wearing sweatpants that rode dangerously low on his trim hips, and his deep brogue broke the silence as she approached. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
Bailey slipped her gun from her waistband and placed it on the table. “Oliver said you’d be drunk.”
“I would be,” Sean agreed, “if there were any more liquor in this place. But I was too lazy to go and buy another bottle.”
She walked over to the upright lamp near the couch and flicked it on. Light illuminated the cavernous space, revealing the slight flush on Sean’s cheeks. He had surprisingly high cheekbones for a man. It was . . . sexy. Too damn sexy.
“You look drunk to me,” she remarked, doing her best not to let her gaze linger.
He snorted. “You think half a bottle of Jameson would get me plastered? I’m Irish, luv. Takes a lot more than that.”
She hesitated before settling in the armchair. It was still too close for comfort. Close enough that she could smell Sean’s spicy aftershave every time she inhaled. Close enough that she could make out every hard ripple of his chest, every faded scar.
She wasn’t looking forward to dredging up the past, but she knew it needed to be done.
“Sean—” she started.
“He was always their favorite, you know.”
The abrupt interruption brought a frown. “What?”
“Ollie. He was my ma and da’s favorite.” Sean leaned over to drop the bottle on the table before rolling onto his back again. “This one time—we were five, maybe six years old. We’d just started learning basic math stuff in school, you know, like you’ve got four bananas and you take away two bananas so how many bananas are left. The first quiz we did, Ollie got every question right. I got about half right. No, maybe more. Two-thirds, I’d wager.”
He rubbed his eyes and sat up, drawing her attention to his chest. God, his muscles were so defined it was like they’d been carved from stone.
“Anyway, we went home and showed our quizzes to Ma, and she gave us big bear hugs and told us we’d both done exactly what she’d expected us to do.” He chuckled harshly. “She expected Ollie to get a hundred, and she expected me not to. Guess she knew who the smart banana in the family was.”
Bailey’s frown deepened. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your kids.”
“Oh, don’t worry. She loved us both. I know she loved me. But she was prouder of Ollie. He was always better at everything.” Sean shrugged. “Guess what I’m saying is, it made sense to me that he was the one you wanted. And that even when you’re not with him, I’m still not someone you want.”
Damn it. Her heart wasn’t allowed to clench like that. He wasn’t allowed to say things like that.
“But I wanted you from the moment I saw you.” Sean’s gaze found hers, green eyes hazy with alcohol and regret.
“Trust me—you made that more than clear.”
“I wanted you for more than a fuck, Bailey.”
She swallowed. “I know.”
Bitterness colored his tone. “But you didn’t. You didn’t want a fuck, and you didn’t want more.”
Her throat closed up on her, making it difficult to get any words out. “I’m not who you think I am,” she mumbled, averting her eyes. “You have this image of who I am, but you really have no idea.”
“You haven’t offered to fill in the blanks.” There was an edge to his tone.
Because it wouldn’t make a difference, damn it. He knew what she did for a living and yet he still treated her like she needed rescuing. She would never be an equal to this man. Or worse, he might end up resenting her independence, her strength, and she knew exactly what men were capable of when they felt like the women in their lives had more power than they did.
“Knowing won’t change anything,” she said aloud. “We’re not the same, Sean. We think differently. We have different ways of getting things done. All we do is fight.”
“You’re the only one fighting, luv.”
The pitch of his voice lowered, became seductive, and Bailey suddenly felt very, very tired. “I can’t give you what you want, okay? I don’t want a relationship.”
“You don’t want a relationship with me,” he corrected.
She didn’t answer.
“You admitted yesterday that you’re attracted to me. Were you lying?”
She found the courage to meet his eyes again. “No. But lust is one thing. A relationship is a whole other matter.”
“Give me the lust, then.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You heard me. If you don’t want to get involved with me, then fine.” His eyes gleamed. “Just fuck me again.”
Her lower body clenched. Hard. And her nipples tightened painfully. She shouldn’t be aroused, this tempted to surrender to him, but she was.
“You’re drunk,” she murmured.
“I already told you—I’m not drunk. Buzzed, maybe. But I know exactly what I’m saying and exactly what I want.”
“And I already told you—I can’t give you what you want.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Forget that. A relationship is off the table—I heard you loud and clear, luv. But sex isn’t. Sex is very much on the table.”
“According to you.”
He lazily slid off the couch like a golden cat, muscles flexing as he bridged the distance between them. He loomed in front of her, six-plus feet of pure temptation. Those sweatpants were practically falling off him. She stared at one sleek hipbone and she wanted to put her mouth on it. Drag her tongue over his hot flesh and taste his masculine flavor.
“You want it,” he said huskily. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“So, what, you want to have a fling in the middle of an op? Is that it?”
He gave a careless shrug. “I won’t be glued to Rabbit’s side. We’ve got plenty of time for other . . . activities. And it doesn’t have to be a fling. One night is fine too.”
Bailey bit the inside of her cheek. “Why? What’s the point?”
The fierce look in his eyes robbed her of breath. “Because I
want
it. I want to be inside you again, and this time, I want you to know exactly who’s fucking you.”
Bailey almost revealed the truth biting at her tongue, that she’d known all along that she wasn’t in bed with Oliver, but her vocal cords were paralyzed. The look in Sean’s eyes was too intense. Smoky lust and flinty determination. Hot need, so potent it seared right through her clothes and heated her skin.
He slid to his knees in front of her, inching closer to
rest both hands on her thighs. The warmth of his touch seeped into her body and made her feverish, achy. Arousal gathered between her legs, tightening when his blunt fingertips traveled to her waistband and dipped beneath it, lightly stroking her hips.
“I like these pants, luv. But they’re getting in our way, don’t you think?”
This had bad idea written all over it. In permanent marker. Bailey was well aware of that, but she couldn’t stop staring at his hands, just inches from her aching core, and his mouth, curved seductively as he waited for her answer. She knew exactly what that wicked mouth was capable of. The pleasure it had to offer.
“Well?” he prompted, toying with the elastic of her leggings. “What should we do with these pants, Bailey?”
One teasing stroke of his fingers over her belly, and a breath shuddered out of her lungs.
“Take them off,” she choked out.
Her skin was like silk. Smooth and supple and porcelain pale, a sharp contrast to her jet-black hair. Her eyes were a mixture of the two hues, black and white combining to form perfect slate gray. Like an overcast sky, not dull and flat, but like that moment before a storm rolled in and lightning prepared to strike. Power held in check. Passion on the edge.
But not for long. Because he was about to unleash that passion.
Sean peeled her leggings off, groaning when he discovered she wasn’t wearing any panties. No bra either, judging by the puckered nipples poking against the front of her black T-shirt.
He’d expected a rejection, but he hadn’t gotten one. He got a blatant invitation instead as Bailey parted her legs and exposed herself.
His mouth ran dry, his hands shaking like a train hurtling along an old wooden track. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Bailey. He’d spent the whole year resorting to self-gratification, every jack-off session involving his very vivid memories of this woman. Now the real thing was in front of him, and he was dangerously close to losing control.
“So beautiful,” he rasped.
He stroked her inner thighs before spreading her legs wider so his gaze could soak in the sight of her delicate pink pussy. Then he lifted his head and their eyes locked, and her dilated pupils inflated his ego. She wanted him—
him
—and her hazy expression proved it.
And Lord, there was even more proof between her legs. Wetness coated his fingers when he brought them to her opening, toying with her slick flesh.
Without breaking eye contact, he dragged his hand upward and rubbed his wet fingertips over her clit. It swelled beneath his touch, pulsing in time to her heartbeat. Her very erratic heartbeat, which was thudding nearly as fast as his.
He stroked little circles over that swollen bud, and her answering moan was like music to his ears.
“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long,” he said roughly. One finger traveled south again, inching into her hot channel but not filling her completely. “I’ve been thinking about this pussy for a year, luv. A bloody year.”
She still didn’t speak. Her lower body moved, hips rising to try to increase the contact between them.
He gave her what she wanted, pushing his finger deeper. When her inner muscles clamped down, his dick jerked in his sweats, throbbing with anticipation and desperate for relief.
But not yet. He wasn’t taking his pleasure until he had Bailey’s complete and total surrender. Her big gray eyes remained focused on his face, but he had to be sure that she knew what she was doing. That she knew precisely whom she was doing it with.
“Say my name,” he commanded.
Her eyes flickered. Displeasure. Resentment.
Resistance.
When she didn’t comply, another finger joined the first, and he drove them in and out at a rapid pace.
A throaty cry left her mouth, but when she started rocking into his hand, he withdrew, and the moan dissolved into a whimper of disappointment.
“You’re not getting any more. Nothing, Bailey. Not until you say my name.”
Her throat dipped as she swallowed, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “Sean,” she whispered.
“Louder. Again.”
“Sean.”
He gave her his fingers again, and she was so wet it was easy to move them inside her, to curve them so that he stroked the top of her channel with each smooth glide. His thumb tended to her clit, offering the pressure she wanted, the tight friction he knew she needed.
“You’re going to say my name again,” Sean muttered. “All fucking night, Bailey. You’re going to say it again and again, and you’re going to scream it when you come.”
Her breathing grew labored, eyes wide as he fingered her furiously. Their previous encounter had taught him what she liked—and it sure as hell wasn’t slow and sweet. She liked it rough. Liked it hard. He added a third finger and increased the pace, and her head lolled to the side.
“Oh
God
.”
He stopped. Frowned.
“Sean . . .” she corrected herself desperately, and that final sign of surrender fueled the lust burning in his groin.
“Again,” he ordered.
“Sean . . . ohhhh . . . Sean . . .”
His name intermixed with her moans of pleasure. His fingers were soaked as he fucked her with them. He felt her muscles tighten, her pussy tremble, and he knew she was close.
He also knew exactly what it would take to get her there.
He dipped his head and tongued her clit as he fingered her, and she convulsed so hard the armchair shook.
“Sean.”
There it was. His name on her lips as she climaxed, her orgasm on
his
lips as he got her there.
He sucked her clit as the orgasm shuddered through her body, and when she grabbed the back of his head and rocked into his face, he grinned against her hot, quivering flesh. Oh yeah. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew that no man had ever made her come this hard.
She finally grew still, her hands relaxing their death grip on his head, and Sean eased back on his knees and licked his glistening lips. No flavor in the world compared to the taste of Bailey. She was sweet and tangy and addictive. He’d gotten his first fix a year ago and had waited so long for another hit. Now that he had it again, he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon.
“That was just to take the edge off,” he said in a low voice. “I’m going to make you come again tonight, luv. And you’re going to say my name every time. Understood?”
She nodded, looking stunned. Confused. As if she hadn’t expected to come apart like that.
He yanked her to her feet and tore her shirt off, then crashed his mouth down on hers in a punishing kiss. She kissed him back eagerly. No, hungrily. Frantic hands shoved his sweats down his hips, and then her fingers dug into his ass and he groaned into her lips.
His cock was trapped between their bodies, leaving a streak of moisture on her flat belly. He rotated his hips and ground against it, growling when her tongue slicked over his. “Mine,” he muttered. “You’re mine, Bailey.”
She broke the kiss, anger blazing in her eyes. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“You do tonight.” When she tried to back away from him, he touched her face, gently curling his hand under her chin. “It goes both ways, luv. Because tonight I belong to
you
.”
Surprise flitted through her expression, deepening when he took her hand and placed it directly over his heart so she could feel its irregular pounding. “Feel that, Bailey?”
She nodded wordlessly.
“That’s how badly I want you.” He swallowed, oddly nervous now. “That’s how terrified I am that you might change your mind and walk out the door.”
Her breath hitched, gaze flying to his.
“I know I come on too strong sometimes, but I just want you to know that I . . .”
He trailed off, trying to find the right words, but Bailey didn’t give him the chance. Suddenly she was kissing him again, her earlier hesitation gone and her urgency returning as she slid her tongue into his mouth and looped her arms around his neck.
“Stop. Talking.”
Her whisper was muffled against his lips, and his answering chuckle was muffled by hers.
“What would you have me do instead?”
“For starters? Put your mouth to better use.” She grasped the back of his head and brought it down to her breasts.
Sean groaned as he took one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. He drew back, gauging her expression. “Too rough?” He raised a brow. “Or not rough enough?”
She responded by raking her nails over his scalp and pushing her breasts closer to his lips. Laughing, he captured her other nipple and lightly sank his teeth on the distended bud, and her moan of pleasure sent electricity racing up his spine.
“Trust me, baby. I remember what you like,” he whispered, his tongue licking a path around her areola. “I memorized every second of our first night together.”
Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the futon, proving to her that he did indeed remember. He tormented her with his tongue. His lips. His teeth—oh yeah, she liked the teeth. And she liked using hers on
him
.
His head reared back in pleasure-laced pain as she bit his shoulder, deep enough to draw blood.
“I have a good memory too,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not the only one who likes it rough.”
Sean’s chest clenched because he knew she wasn’t remembering
him
. Last time they were together, she’d thought he was Oliver.
“My name,” he squeezed out, strangled, urgent. “Say it.”
“Sean.” Her tone changed, softened, as if she’d read his mind and saw the old doubts and insecurities creeping in.
But then she brought her hand between them and gripped his cock so tight he saw stars.
“Sean,” she repeated, smug and throaty.
His lips found hers in a greedy kiss, tongue stroking her mouth in time to the hand stroking his dick. His body was on fire. Heart thudding with excitement, blood burning with need. But the fast pumps of her hand weren’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until he was inside her. Where he belonged.
He abruptly rose onto his knees, fisting his cock as he brought it toward her mouth. “Suck me,” he rasped. “Get my dick nice and wet so I can put it inside you.” Then he faltered. They hadn’t used condoms last year, but he realized he couldn’t just assume she’d want to do that again. “Unless you want me to grab a rubber?”
Bailey flicked her tongue over the tip of his cock, and it
took all his willpower not to thrust into her mouth. Shaking her head, she licked her lips as she peered up at him. “I’m on birth control. And clean, just like I was last year.”
“Me too,” he said gruffly. “I, ah, haven’t slept with anyone since you.”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Don’t look so shocked.” He couldn’t stop the edge to his voice. “Not everyone is as slutty as your good chum Macgregor.”
She laughed. “Jealousy isn’t an attractive quality in a lover, you know.”
“Tough luck. Because I
am
jealous. I’m jealous as hell.” As the truth poured out before he could stop it, he suddenly wondered whether she’d like him better if he censored himself, if he curbed that blunt honesty that spilled out whenever she was around. But then her mouth closed around his cock and his brain shut down like a broken furnace.
“You have no reason to be jealous of Liam.” Her soft breath tickled his shaft. “I’ve never sucked him off, if that’s what you’re worried about. Never slept with him either.”
He’d known that, but hearing it loosened the tight knot in his chest.
Then she licked him again, and his muscles seized right back up. Her tongue was incredible. Dancing over his throbbing flesh as she worked him. Excruciatingly slow, as if she planned on torturing him all damn night. When those soft, teasing glides turned into the hot, wet suction of her mouth, his balls tightened, and he choked on a curse.
“No. I want to come inside you.”
He pulled out, his cock weeping when the cold air met it, but he didn’t suffer long. He covered her body with his and with one hard thrust, buried himself deep.
Bailey’s nails scraped his back as he began to move. Thank God she didn’t have those manicured talons other women liked to grow or she would have ripped his flesh apart. Not that he’d mind the pain. Her urgency matched his own. The furious rise of her hips met him thrust for thrust. Maybe next time he’d take it slow, but right now, it was a race to the finish. A violent storm of need and lust that raged between them, threatening to consume them both.
Sean’s heart damn near burst when release blasted through him. The sizzling rush of pleasure had him sagging against her, but he kept pounding his hips forward, over and over until she cried out and joined him in that hot, mindless place that had turned his muscles to jelly.
They lay there for a moment, panting to catch their breath, their bodies glued together by sweat and sheer exhaustion. And then Bailey exhaled, and he felt her shut down beneath him.
She shifted and rolled away, and Sean experienced genuine loss the second he left the warmth of her body. He hadn’t expected her to cuddle, but he hadn’t thought she’d freeze him out either.
Her expression grew somber as she met his eyes and said, “You’re wrong.”
* * *
God, she could barely breathe. She was reeling from her second orgasm of the night. Stunned by the knowledge that Sean Reilly still had this power over her.
“Yeah?” he said warily. “Well, I’m wrong about a lot of things, so you’ll have to be more specific.”
She swallowed. “When you said we belong to each other. You’re wrong.”
A mocking glint lit his eyes. “Am I? Because it didn’t feel wrong when my cock was buried inside you.”
No, it hadn’t, but that word—
belong
—it brought back memories that cracked her chest wide open. Sean wasn’t the first man to say that to her. He wasn’t the first man who had thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted to her because she was
his
.
Trapped. That was how she’d felt at home. And with Daniels. And now with Sean.
Her desire for him held her captive, tied her to him. She’d never experienced anything like it, and she hated the powerless sensations that arose when she was with Sean.
“I won’t pretend that you don’t make me feel good,” she said tightly. “And you know how to make me come, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean you own me, or my body. I’m
choosing
to have sex with you.”
“Gee, I’m so bloody flattered that you’d bestow such a wonderful gift on me.” He narrowed his eyes. “But what if I want more than your body?”
“You won’t get it.” She stared at him in accusation. “You said you understood that.”
“Oh, I understand, all right.” He sat up, resting his blond head against the wall as he stared back. “But when we’re around Rabbit, you
do
belong to me.”
“I already said I’d pretend to be your girlfriend,” she muttered.
“Well, you’re going to need to do more than hold my hand and stick your tongue in my mouth. I don’t want you on that man’s radar, which means that when Rabbit is watching, you need to be meek and silent and obey every word I say.”