Chapter 9 #3
I ground the side of his face into the countertop. “Oh, so you can spit whatever bullshit you want at me about my brother, but I can’t talk about yours?”
He tried to buck me off him. “I’m just your little bitch. Use me all you want, but fuck you for trying to get inside my head.”
“How many times do I need to say this? You don’t make the rules, devil.
I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you.
” I leaned over his back, making sure he felt the hard line of my cock pressed between his ass cheeks.
“I’ll fuck you how I want—your head, your mouth, your virgin hole.
All three. Next time you swing at me, I’ll chain you to the toilet with a vibrating plug up your ass until you’re crying. ”
A shiver ran down his spine, and he stopped struggling, his back heaving with deep breaths.
He rolled his forehead against the counter, and when he spoke again, his voice was thready and weak.
Nearly defeated. “J-just… stop trying to understand me.” Then, softer, nearly a whisper, “I don’t understand me. ”
I knew Devlin’s bullshit well enough by now to recognize when he was putting on an act.
And right now, he wasn’t. That vulnerability, the tremor in his voice, his weak pleas…
It made my cock hard. This was proof I could crack Devlin Walsh.
And his temper had already shown me where to strike first. He was going to be so delicious to take apart.
I massaged the tight muscles on the back of his neck while I kept him pinned to the counter. My thumb rubbed along his pulse point. Devlin swallowed roughly, his body relaxing. For now, he could think I was letting this go. I’d absolutely poke at this wound again.
A knock at my door had Devlin jolting in my arms, and I released him so he could straighten.
“Cian!” Rhys’s muffled voice came from the other side.
Devlin stood there with his head bowed, refusing to look at me or the mirror. I pointed to a change of clothes I’d left on the toilet. “Get dressed.” I hesitated for a moment, then turned and left the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
I opened my front door to find Rhys with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn jeans, his flannel hanging open over the T-shirt underneath. His brown eyes met mine. “Good to see he didn’t kill you in your sleep.”
I opened the door wider and let Rhys in. “No, but he stole my pillows.”
“What a monster,” Rhys said, stepping inside.
I shut the door as Devlin emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the jeans and hoodie I’d set out for him.
He stopped abruptly when he spotted Rhys, and I could see the exact moment he put on the Detroit Devil mask.
“Rhys,” he said with a snarky hiss. “So nice to meet you.”
Rhys stared at him with a blank expression before turning to me. His eyes traveled down my bare chest, past my sweatpants, all the way to my bare feet before returning to my gaze.
“Meeting with the officers in a few minutes. Then a meeting at O’Shea’s in about an hour. Which you scheduled, by the way.”
“Shit,” I ran a hand over my short hair.
I’d somehow forgotten I had two business meetings today—one for the illegitimate business and one for the legitimate one.
I looked over at Devlin, standing in my living room like he owned the place, and I waved a hand toward the prisoner who wasn’t looking like much of a prisoner at all.
“I can’t leave him alone in the apartment. He’ll have to come with us.”
Devlin sputtered. “Excuse me…? I happen to think I’ve been pretty well-behaved—”
I stepped closer, forcing him to crane his neck back to meet my eyes, and I gripped his chin. His eyes fluttered as he made a strangled sound in his throat. “Look—”
Rhys cleared his throat. “Twenty-eight minutes.”
I immediately released Devlin and stepped out of his space. I glared at him. He glared back. I didn’t want to share Devlin. I didn’t want anyone else looking at him or talking to him. But I had obligations, and one of those was to my men. The other was keeping Devlin alive.
Then an idea hit me, one that should satisfy both my crew and the obsessive beast inside me that wanted to keep Devlin under my heel.
“You still have Mizzy’s shock collars?” I said, and Rhys’s eyebrows rose while Devlin’s jaw dropped.
I couldn’t just drag him over there chained up.
We had loyal employees who knew better than to call the cops, but I wouldn’t risk anyone gossiping about Devlin.
“I’ll bring him. His hoodie will hide the collar. ”
Devlin’s face was flushed an angry red. “I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“You turn into Cujo again, and I’ll shock the shit out of you,” I snapped.
His teeth clacked shut as he continued to seethe. But what he didn’t do was swing at me. I guess getting chained to the toilet again wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun game.
Rhys, like always, kept his face neutral—but I knew him well enough to know his mind had to be whirling. And because he was my best friend, it didn’t surprise me when he turned on his heel and simply said, “I’ll go get it.”