Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Riddle me this, though.” Achilles turned to Tiernan. “Why would Angelo, who is rich and successful, poke around in this swarming beehive and send Lila a letter? He doesn’t need the money.”
“He has a point.” Sam shrugged. “If Angelo did it, he’d try to put as much distance between you and him as possible.”
“Unless we have the angle all wrong.” Fintan cocked an eyebrow.
“Meaning?” Tiernan asked.
“Maybe the two incidents aren’t connected, and he has nothing to do with the car crash. Maybe he wants to meet Lila to straighten things out. Make sure she doesn’t talk. I mean, we know she doesn’t remember his face. He doesn’t. He wants to get her alone so he can scare her into silence. He has too much to lose.”
“And the accident?” Achilles asked.
Fintan shrugged. “Could be any of our enemies, and there are too many to choose from. Maybe they thought it was Tiernan in the car, saw the two women inside, freaked out, and fled.”
“Either way.” Sam twisted his wedding band. “All roads lead to Angelo Bandini.”
Luca sucked his teeth. “Fintan’s math is mathing.”
Achilles shrugged. “Fuck it. We have no other leads.”
“Whoever it is, he wants her to come alone, judging by the letter. I say either you beat Angelo to it and kill him,” Fintan said. “Or trust the process, let her go, and see what he wants.”
“That’s a no,” Tiernan drawled, and though I couldn’t hear him, even I knew his tone was deadly. “She’s not going anywhere unprotected.”
Sam’s gaze skated between my husband and my brothers. “Didn’t know you had such a hard-on for Tiernan to get Harlem.”
“It’s not about Harlem anymore.” Tiernan tightened his hold on me. “This entire city can burn to the ground and I wouldn’t even blink. It’s about my wife, and about justice, and about making sure she is safe. I’d tear the world to shreds for her, and they know it.”
Luca snapped his fingers. “Bring in my brother-in-law. We have a bone to pick with him.”
_______
Tiernan was restless for the rest of the evening.
He fawned over me like I was about to shatter into minuscule pieces at any minute.
“More iced tea?” He stomped into our bedroom with a pitcher and some cookies. Imma was sent to my parents’ house. He became so unbearably paranoid he didn’t want anyone around me. He even closed down the pub.
“No, thank you.” I stared at the pitcher, horrified. “The baby is pressing against my bladder. I want to pee just looking at it.”
“What about the cookies?”
“Heartburn.”
“Italian soup? There’s leftovers from Imma’s—”
“For the love of God, sit down.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m pregnant, not dying. And I don’t want to eat or drink. I just want to spend some time with you.”
I patted the space next to me on the mattress to make a point. He still looked unconvinced. Rolling my eyes, I fell forward on my palms and crawled across the bed until my face was flush with his groin. I touched his stomach through his black dress shirt. His sinewy abs immediately contracted beneath my fingertips.
He said something. I didn’t bother reading his lips.
Suddenly, all I wanted was his cock in my mouth. It was unfathomable to me that it hadn’t happened before. I loved his body. Every inch of it.
I felt his groan as I tugged on the zipper of his slacks. I looked up, and his face seemed almost…pained. His lips slightly parted. I knew it was on the tip of his tongue to tell me I didn’t have to do it.
I also knew he wasn’t chivalrous enough to speak those words.
Even in love, my husband wasn’t a hero in anyone’s story. He was a villain. And I wouldn’t want him any other way.
Freeing him from his pants and boxers, his shaft sprang free, slapping his stomach, leaving a tear of precum on his prominent abs.
My breath skated across the crown of his cock. A ragged sigh escaped him, his breath quickening. I wrapped my hand around the base, surprised with how hot and velvety it felt. I dipped my head, giving the tip an experimental lick, screwing the tip of my tongue to the place where another pearl of liquid awaited. It was salty, earthy, and delicious.
Palming the underside of his cock, I let its weight sit on my tongue. As soon as I fastened my mouth around it, the last shreds of his self-control evaporated, along with all that fake gentleness that grated on my nerves. He fisted the back of my hair—tight enough to hurt, but not to make me flinch—and pushed my face farther down his length, making me take two more inches. A muscle in the back of my throat jumped, triggering my gag reflex. He guided my face up, not letting me pull away from his penis as our gaze struck.