Connor
Cat beelines for the front door of the safe house.
“Cat, stop.”
She pauses with a hand on the doorknob.
How did this discussion go so sideways?
Cat’s here and safe, and this is where she needs to stay.
Over my dead body will she sleep in the same house where our mortal enemy rests his head.
She’s the first woman—the first person—I’ve ever done anything like this for. I never stick my neck out for other people.
Yet she’s throwing all my risks back in my face, accusing me of having ulterior motives. Proving everything I’m doing means nothing. I’m not worth it.
I shake my head, angry at myself. Then I finish my brandy, launch the tumbler at the wall, and relish in the shattering glass.
Cat jumps out of her skin.
“That’s how I feel right now.” I indicate the glittering fragments. I’ll deal with the mess later. “You’ve split me into a thousand pieces, and each one is telling me something different. I hope you’re happy.”
Her bitter, broken laugh scratches at my ears. “Of course. Because my grief is now a Connor problem.”
“Fuck you.” I march toward her until only inches separate us. She’s infuriating me far more than I believed a woman ever could, yet all I can think about is how I don’t want to lose her.
Enter Declan. “You’re weak. A little pussy. You’ll never be a true leader.” I hate that his voice holds the most prominent space in my head, even when he’s wrong.
I brace my hand on the door. “You’re not leaving.”
Though she yanks the handle, the reinforced steel doesn’t budge. “Let me go.”
“No.” I pin her in place with my entire body.
Cat struggles to get away. First, she pushes my chest, then she tries to drop, but I’ve trapped her right where I want her. She’s not going anywhere unless I say so.
“Back the hell up, Connor!” She tries to shove me with all her strength, but flush against the door, she lacks the leverage. The only thing her struggles accomplish is making my dick hard.
I spread my legs to cage her as I plunge a hand down the back of her pants, past her ass and to her opening. Which is—bingo—wet.
I waste no time in hooking two fingers inside her.
She melts back against my chest, gasping. “I hate you,” she lies. “I hate you so much.”
I bite down on her earlobe, breathing into her hair as I press against her back. “Saying it twice doesn’t make it any truer.”
“I hate you.” She fumbles for the waistband of my joggers.
I swat her away. “This is my show, Cat. Just like you said. Just like everything else.” I yank the material out of her other hand too. “Hands on the door.”
She obeys, slapping her palms flat against the steel. The will scatters at our feet.
“Now don’t move.” I slide my fingers out of her.
She sighs audibly. Disappointed, maybe, but she won’t be for long.
I strip her pants and underwear down to her ankles, then remove one boot so I can tug her pants off and spread her legs wide. “Keep them there.”
She nods, her breath fogging against the door.
I rise back up and rip my own sweats down, just far enough to free my erect cock, and then I drive inside her. Furious or not, her hot, wet pussy is begging for this.
Up against the safe house’s front door, I slam into Cat until her feet leave the floor, my cock plunging in and out as I knead her sweet ass to get in deep.
She moans, her nails scrabbling. “Connor…god…Connor…”
Funny. Where’s all the hate in your voice now, Cat?
Like all real men, I’m a generous lover. Since I’m not sure if she can come this way, I inch a hand around to her clit to apply pressure with my palm.
That sets her off. “Connor…”
“You have my permission to come.” I smirk against her hair, because once she’s thinking clearly again, those words will just piss her off.
She climaxes while pounding on the door with her open palm and crying out my name.
I follow on the heels of her orgasm, groaning against her neck as I spill inside her.
Though my body spasms with pleasure, something doesn’t feel right.
Nothing wrong with fucking her from behind…but not when she’s so angry.
Not with me so desperate to keep her here, and her just as desperate to escape me.
Shit.
As my cock slowly slips out, Cat’s feet find the floor. Her legs tremble. I hold still against her back, supporting her weight as she regains control.
Finally, I release her and tuck myself into my pants.
Panting, she redresses and slips on her boot.
Only then does she spin toward me, with daggers in her eyes. If looks could kill… “You have my permission to come?”
My lips curl into an involuntary smirk. I predicted this was coming, but I shrug because I don’t know what she wants me to say. “It worked.”
“I was coming either way. I didn’t need your permission.” She crouches to regather the scattered will. Once she collects all the papers, she stands, pivots, and leaves without another word.
Groaning, I rake a hand through my hair and collapse on the ugly blue couch.
Fuck.
Did the one thing we do best only strain our relationship even more?
Have I lost her for good?
If Cat doesn’t want me, I have no reason to stay. To fight. She’d probably reject my protection, which she desperately needs.
Whether she agrees or not, she’s getting my protection through the funeral. By that point, word should be out about the family’s change of leadership. If Nino seizes the role without a struggle, I would hope he’d at least allow her to live. But I don’t trust him to do the right thing.
I text Declan to inform him I’ll return home on Friday, after Eduardo’s funeral.
In the meantime, I can prove to all those other fuckwads that they need me too.
“You’re all going to miss me when I’m gone,” I mutter on my way to the shower.
I’ll save Cat and the whole damn city by myself. I’ll get the port back for Finn and ensure that Cat’s safe.
And I’ll require nothing in return.