Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“How’s Sash?” I ask as I rummage through Lach’s bare cupboards. I’ve got a wicked bad headache, and the man doesn’t even have fricken’ coffee.
“She’s fine,” Ronan reports dryly.
“Ugh,” I groan and rub my temples. I know I saw a Dunkies around the corner last night at least. “I need some coffee. You wanna’ give me a lift?”
He glances up at me and rolls his eyes. God love the grouchy bastard.
“I’ll go alone.” He stands up. “What do ye want?”
“Two regulars and a couple of maple cremes. Some apple sticks, too.”
Ronan makes for the door before I think of something else. “Oh, and some cheese danishes.”
He grunts in annoyance and I call out after him. “We really do need to get you a bell, Ronan. It would be so much more convenient.”
The door slams and I snicker.
Lachlan walks down the hall a few minutes later, and God help me he’s wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs. His hair is still wet, and there are little drops of water dripping down onto his chest. He was covered in blood last night and I obviously wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be checking him out. But this morning’s a different story. Just as I figured, the man is jacked as all get out. He’s got a nice frigging body.
His chest and bicep have a few tattoos I didn’t even notice last night. There’s a Celtic design of sorts along with a few Gaelic words from the looks of it. I have no clue what they mean but I highly suspect it has some sort of symbolism for his syndicate.
“Morning, butterfly.” He walks over and strokes my face beneath his fingers. His touch is gentle, his eyes tender… and I can’t help noticing something has shifted between us.
I run my fingers over his bandage and he winces. “How’s it feeling this morning?”
“Like I’ve been shot,” he says wryly. “But it’ll be feeling grand tonight.” He leans down and nips at my ear. “When I’m buried deep inside of you.”
I look up and give him a nervous smile. How could I forget what we started last night? Of course he’s going to want to finish it.
“Feeling shy, sweetheart?” his fingers skim down my throat, making me shiver.
“Not at all,” I lie.
He bends down and his lips brush over mine, turning me into mush in his arms. I don’t know how he does that. I kiss him back, because… I don’t really know, actually. I have no idea if it’s because it’s a good strategy or I actually want to.
When the front door slams and Ronan’s shoes clip across the floor, I break away gratefully. There’s no way I can figure out all the answers to these questions inside my brain without caffeine in my blood stream.
I skip across the kitchen and plant a giant wet kiss on Ronan’s cheek as I tear the bag of donuts from his hand. He stumbles back in disbelief and then shoots Lachlan a worried glance.
“What?” I ask innocently.
Ronan shoves the coffees onto the counter and puts as much distance between us as he can manage in the small kitchen. He’s looking at me like I might try to fling myself at him again any moment. I roll my eyes and then turn to find Lachlan scowling at me as he tugs me back.
“Mackenzie,” he whispers threateningly in my ear. His grip on me is so tight I can hardly breathe. Sheesh, he looks like he wants to murder me.
“Crow.” I smile up at him. “It was just an innocent little kiss on the cheek. I take my Dunkie’s very seriously, you know.”
His hand finds its way to my throat, and he looks really pissed. “Don’t ever touch one of the lads like that again. Especially not Ronan if you know what’s good for you.”
What’s the big frigging deal? I glance at Ronan, and something passes between them. I’m getting the gist that Ronan doesn’t like to be touched. These two are oddly protective of each other, but unsurprisingly very tight lipped about it.
“Fine.” I shove away from Lachlan. “I won’t touch poor little Ronan again. And as for your orders… I belong to nobody, Lachlan Crow. You’d do well to remember that.”
“You think ye can just walk away from me?” he asks. “Ye came and planted your arse right on my cock in the middle of the club, if I’m not mistaken. And then demanded, while my fingers were deep inside ye I might add, that I not fuck around with Mandy. Even if ye hadn’t seen what ye did last night, you were never walking away from me after that, sweetheart. Don’t mistake those words for empty threats.”
Ronan clears his throat behind us and I jerk my gaze to his in embarrassment. I honestly forgot he was there for a second. And he’s staring at Lachlan like they need to have a serious talk themselves. When I glance back at Lach, he’s looking at me like he isn’t quite certain where all of that just came from either.
He grabs his coffee off the counter and jerks his head towards Ronan.
“I’ve got Armenians to deal with,” he says. “You’ll be staying put today, Mack.”
He turns around and walks back down the hall, giving me a nice view of his fine ass as he goes. Of course, Ronan catches me staring and shakes his head. Bastard.
Chapter Sixteen
Lachlan
Between dealing with the mess at the club and trying to track the Armenians movements, my morning’s been nothing but complete shite.
When I catch a glimpse of Ivan Malikoff walking through the rubble, it’s the cherry on top. Donovan is at his side, giving me an apologetic half-arsed shrug.
“I told him you were busy,” Donny says. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
I hold my hand up to let him know to back off and jerk my head towards my office. Ivan follows me down the hall, his cold blue eyes taking in everything with a smirk on his face. Fucking prick.