Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Harper
I never thought I’d find peace inside a grand stone castle guarded by armed Irish mafia men, but here I am—naked, tangled in sweat-damp sheets, and more content than I’ve ever been in my life.
And it’s not only because of the orgasms.
But they certainly helped.
The fire in the hearth crackles low, casting a warm glow across the new velvet curtains and midnight blue area rug we picked out together. The bed beneath us is massive, draped in charcoal linens that smell like Bryan and sex. And everywhere I look, my gaze catches on something that says I belong here.
That he wants me here.
That he wants me to stake my claim.
And despite my reservations about the violence he possesses, the tenderness, honor, and compassion in him tips the scales of my heart.
He’s a flawed man living in a dangerous world, but he’s also a very good man.
But more than the décor or the cozy domesticity of a ready for Christmas Quinn estate, it’s him . It’s what we’re building together.
Bryan’s heavy arm drapes possessively across my waist. He’s lying on his side, one leg tangled with mine, his bare chest pressed to my back. His breath is steady and deep against my neck, as his fingers lazily stroke the curve of my hip.
Over and over he traces a lazy circuit that feels more intimate than sex itself.
We’re sated. Warm. Wrapped in each other like we’re the only two people in the world.
“I like this,” I murmur, eyes half-lidded as I trace my fingers over the inked lines of his forearm.
He hums, low and pleased. “The sex or the spooning?”
“Both. Obviously.” I grin and roll to face him, catching the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But more than that. This room. This bed. The smell of firewood and your ridiculously sexy aftershave. Your family. Your home.”
“Our home.”
I smile. “ Our home. I like it. It feels right.”
He brushes a strand of hair away from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “Good. That’s what I wanted.”
I press my palm to the dark scruff of his jaw, loving the rasp of stubble under my hand. “I don’t know when I’ve felt so at peace. After the past six months, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel this way again.”
He kisses me—soft, slow, reverent.
“Same,” he whispers against my lips. “You dragged me out of the dark and made me want things again. A future. A family. To do better. To be better.”
My throat tightens, but I don’t let it win. I kiss him deeper instead, pushing him onto his back as I straddle his hips beneath the blankets.
“And I’ll keep dragging you back into the light,” I whisper, trailing kisses down his neck, “as long as you promise to still be a very bad man with me at night.”
“Deal,” he growls, his voice rough and hungry.
His hands find my thighs, gripping tight as I shift against him, feeling my insatiable hunger for his cock stir deep in my core.
It doesn’t matter that he’s already filled me and fucked me through three orgasms, my body weeps for him instantly.
Always wet and hungry for more.
Will it always be like this?
I reach down and find the stiff length of his cock. When I stroke him down to the base, precum pools at the slit of his crown. “Do you ever run out of steam?”
“For your body? Never gonna happen.”
He grips my hips, lifting while he shifts, our bodies lining up in a practiced familiarity I love. I lower down his shaft, the stretch and slide perfect, delicious.
Things are a little sore, but there’s no way I’d let that deprive me from the pleasure that awaits.
He thrusts up and I gasp, my hands braced on his chest as I take him in deep. He fills so good. He watches me with those stormy green eyes, his gaze locked to mine like I’m the only thing he sees.
“How long do you think we can stay in here like this and get away with it?”
His hand slides between us, his thumb stroking over the swollen nub of my clit.
Oh wow, I’m a little raw there, too.
“Too much, too soon?”
I groan as he coaxes pleasure from me with every gentle rub. “Never… never too much.”
The fire pops. The sheets shift.
The world narrows to this— to us.
“Ride me hard, trouble. Use my cock to make yourself detonate. I want to watch your face as your pussy gets greedy and you lose your mind.”
Oh, the things this man says. And in that husky Irish accent of his—too much.
Closing my eyes, I grip his shoulders and grind against his thumb. His cock is droolworthy and long, but the best part is his girth. The way he stretches me makes pleasure detonate from every cell in my body.
And when I bounce my hips and ride him…
“I won’t last long. It feels too good.” I throw my head back and lift my hips, slamming down his shaft over and over again. “I swear I can feel the veins in your cock pulsing inside me.”
My voice is getting pitchy, and I start mumbling nonsense but I don’t even care. This man takes me to another plane of existence.
My breath is coming hard and fast and I’m poised at the peak of pleasure, chasing the last keening pressure that will put me over the edge.
“More!” I gasp. “Harder! Fill me!”
His thumb leaves my clit and grips both my hips. I reach down to touch myself but I don’t even need to stroke my clit because he’s thrusting up with his hips and lifting and slamming me down his cock with such carnal power that my entire body shatters.
I scream his name as my climax washes over me and my vision fritzes. I see stars. I come apart. Another rush of wet heat pooling between my thighs.
“Fuck, I love watching you come.”
I’m a rather big fan of it myself, but I don’t have the breath to be sassy.
“I love you , Harper. You know that, right?”
How could I not? I meet his hooded gaze and smile. “Remember that first day we worked together when I saw your screensaver?”
“Mhmm.” His gaze drops to my breasts and he begins playing with my hard nipples.
“Looking at that picture of you and Yasmine, my first thought was how lucky that girl was to have a man look at her like that. Your love oozed from your gaze, your smile, even from the way you pressed your cheek to hers to take the selfie. No man had ever looked at me like that.”
“Until now,” he says. “I hope ye see that.”
I flop forward onto his chest and kiss him. “I’d be blind not to. I know you love me and even against my better judgment, I couldn’t help but to fall in love with you. I may have feared the mafia enforcer but the man? I never had any doubts about him.”
He claims my lips, wrapping his arms around me?—
And then his phone beeps.
It’s not the usual tone. It’s something sharper.
He freezes beneath me, still deep inside me, his arms tightening briefly before he curses under his breath and leans sideways, grabbing for the phone on the nightstand.
The change in him is instant . From warm, lazy, and loving, to alert and tense. His brow furrows, and when I try to glance at the screen, he subtly shifts it away from my line of sight.
“Bryan?” A cold knot forms in my stomach. “What’s wrong?”
He glances at me—and smiles. Not a full grin, but the kind of smile he gives when he’s trying not to worry me. “Come. Let me clean you up. We need to go out.”
“Now?” I blink, still very naked and ready to call it a night. “You want me to get dressed now ?”
He nips my shoulder and grins. “Aye, now. I have an early Christmas present for you and it’s finally ready.”
I narrow my eyes. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“Technically, yes. But why wait? Live in the moment.”
* * *
North Dublin—or Northside, as it’s called—glows outside the car windows, wrapped in twinkling lights and the hush of winter just days before Christmas. The River Liffey glimmers to our right, catching reflections of garland-strung lamp posts and the occasional silhouette of bundled-up couples strolling hand in hand.
Bryan weaves us through the downtown maze of streets and stoplights, and with every turn, my suspicion grows.
He’s quiet. Focused. And I can’t tell if he’s happy, worried, excited, or a combination of all three. Whatever his surprise, it’s important to him.
The building we pull up to has an industrial feel to it but has obviously been refitted and repurposed like its neighboring structures. Cold steel. Concrete. Vast interior. And one hell of a river view.
“Where are we?”
“At the riverfront.”
I arch a brow as he pulls into the small drive and parks. “Yeah, no shit.”
He laughs, getting out and then jogging around to open my door. Taking my hand, he guides us through a frosted glass door. Inside is a little lobby that’s all exposed brick and steel beams leading to another door.
Industrial chic… with an emphasis on industrial .
He punches a code into an electronic keypad of the second door and when it clicks open, he reveals a narrow stairwell.
He told me how Tag sent him to his loft when his anger got the better of him. How he looked out over the river trying to piece himself back together after I shut him out.
That must be where we are.
“This is Tag’s loft, right?”
“Aye, it is.” He takes my hand and starts climbing.
That’s it. No elaboration. Just a flash of dimples as he starts up the stairs, pulling me along in his wake.
I follow, my mind trying to unravel the mystery.
Maybe this is a sexy little getaway? Except… we didn’t pack. And it’s not like we’re hard up for space or privacy at the castle.
We have our own wing , for god’s sake. And why would he make me get out of bed—where we were having mind-blowing sex—to come here if he only wanted to have sex. He wouldn’t.
So, what’s the play here?
When we reach the top landing, he pauses in front of another keypad and punches in another code. Then he turns to me and his grin falters. He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Brace yerself, trouble. Deep breath.”
And suddenly, I panic.
Not because I think something’s wrong—but because something is definitely coming . My heart stutters, and my stomach twists.
“Oh my God.” My hand flies to my chest. “You’re not proposing, are you? Bryan, please tell me you’re not going there so soon.”
He freezes, blinking at me like I’ve just suggested we join a cult. “First,” he says dryly, “ouch. Ye couldn’t look any less interested in wearin’ my ring. That’s a hit to a man’s ego.”
I wince. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—it’s way too soon. We only just moved in together.”
Bryan chuckles. “Agreed. Ye can relax, there’s no ring and no question to be popped. Not yet.”
I let out a long breath. Excellent.
He pushes the door open and gestures for me to step inside. “Go on, love. I promise ye want what’s inside more than anything I could buy at the shops.”
I step through the doorway, scan the loft, and stop.
The breath catches in my throat.
My knees buckle.
A sound tears from my chest.
It’s not quite a scream of fear or pain or even joy. It’s kind of all three. All the emotion I’ve held at bay rips through the room as I see my surprise.
If it weren’t for Bryan’s hands clamping around my waist, I would’ve crumpled to the floor.
Time stands still as they rise from the couch…
And then speeds up as they rush toward me.
Macie and Chantal.
My friends. My sisters.
They’re thinner. Paler. Haunted shadows move behind their eyes. But they’re here.
“You’re alive!” I stumble toward them and the three of us collide in a knot of arms, hair, sobs, and shaking limbs. Hot tears sting my eyes and stream down my cheeks. "How… when… what?"
Macie swipes the sleeve of her shirt over her eyes and then laughs at me. "You missed Who and Where. What kind of investigator are you?"
"The absolute best kind," Chantal says, resting her head on my shoulder as the three of us dissolve into a snotty, ugly crying bunch. "You saved us, babe. The officers who found us said a very determined woman came across the pond to find us and bring us home. We knew it was you."
I shake my head, overwhelmed, my fingers tangled in their sleeves. “I—I don’t understand. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
I lift my gaze to Bryan, who’s standing a few feet away, his arms crossed casually over his broad chest. He’s watching me with a look that holds every shade of love I’ve ever known.
“They got here two days ago,” he says gently. “The ladies requested a moment to set themselves right. Tag suggested they stay here, so they’d be close, and we could ensure their safety. They’re welcome to stay as long as they like.”
I take them in again, my mind barely grasping the reality. They’re here. Alive. Safe.
It’s obvious they’ve been through a lot, and it will take time for them to recover fully—if that’s even possible—but they’re here.
“What about Zhara, Anton’s sister? What about the others?”
“The task force is still working to find and rescue all the women they can. As far as I know, they’ve only begun their rescue raids.”
My heart aches that I’ve got answers and Anton and his family may not, but I’ll follow up on that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m focusing on my girls.
Bryan moves beside me and silently hands over a box of tissues. Macie takes them, and we dissolve into laughter through our ugly, snotty tears.
I turn to him, still trembling, and throw my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around my ribs in a tight hug, lifting me off the ground.
I bury my face in the crook of his neck and take my first deep breath in months. “Thank you.”
He cups the back of my head, and the warmth of his breath brushes my ear. “Ye never have to thank me for feeding yer soul, trouble. That’s my job now—my absolute honor. But besides that, there’s nothing to thank me for. Them being here isn’t my doing—it’s yers.”
I ease back to drown in those deep green eyes and see him to the depths of his soul—the fighter, the killer, the protector, the lover, the friend —and know that it was definitely not all my doing.
He was behind me in my search, supporting me, assisting me, getting me access to people within his world through men in the MC.
It was a true team effort—a partnership.
I thought I did my best work while going it alone—turns out, I just hadn’t found the right partner yet.
I brush my lips over his. “I love you, Bryan Quinn. I see who you are from the beast to the big protective bear and I’m all-in. Whatever happens, it’s you and I against the world.”
He gives me a wink. “Aye, fucking right.”