Taryn
My brother stands. “I think you should go, Tare Bear.” His voice is low, calm. Placating. Calling me by my childhood nickname. This is exactly how Nolan sounds when he’s about to lay down something nonnegotiable. God. I hate that voice.
I raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been through enough,” he says. “You’re tired. You should rest. Let us handle this. Please.”
I love how he gets to decide how I’m feeling and what I’m up for.
Rafferty chimes in from where he’s been leaning against the fireplace, arms crossed.
“He’s right. You’re smart, Taryn. That’s never been in question, so don’t give me that look.
But this?” He nods toward the table where the burner phone and the Charon coin still sit.
“This is clan business. And we wouldn’t be doing our job as your brothers if we didn’t protect you from it.
It’s been a long day. Why don’t you go back to the guest room? Liam can come get you later.”
A burn creeps up the back of my neck. They mean well. I know they do. But it’s the same tired story—what I need, what’s best for me, decided by everyone but me. I start to rise.
Liam’s arms tighten around my waist, holding me steady. He doesn’t stand, but I feel him stiffen. His voice carries.
“I respect how much you love your sister,” he says, cool and clear. “However, she’s also my wife. And my wife is perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”
I suck in a breath.
Nolan’s jaw tightens. “You think that means it’s your call?” His eyes narrow. My big brother looks ready to come undone.
“No,” Liam answers. “I think that means it’s hers.”
There’s a long pause. Nolan grunts. Rowan leans forward, fingers steepled. “So? What do you want, Taryn? You had a pretty big scare today. You don’t owe us anything.”
I take a breath and glance around the room. These men—brilliant, brutal, dangerous—are watching me now. Waiting. Both my brothers and my father know better than to speak now that the boss has asked a question.
“I don’t want a seat at this table forever,” I say. “I don’t want to be part of clan politics, and I’m not asking to be brought in on every move.” I look at my brothers as I say this, shifting on my husband’s lap. Nolan’s shoulders ease slightly.
“But this was aimed at me. My account started this. And if our enemies are going to try to threaten us into submission, I’d like to at least participate in the response.”
Liam looks at me with pride in his eyes.
I press on. “I offered to approach the Greeks.” I raise my hand before they can all protest. It’s not like Liam bit on that idea either.
He may have thought about it, but his hesitation spoke volumes.
After today, I realize he’s right. “I know now that wasn’t the best idea.
I can see how dangerous they are. But, I think I may know someone who can help. ”
Rowan tilts his head. “Who?”
“Elizabeth,” I say. “Well, her dad, the senator. You know he works within our world. And he has an issue with the Greeks. I think he’d help us.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence. And that’s when I feel it—something I never thought I’d have. Not a seat at the table. But a voice. And the man beside me—my husband—is the one making room for it. These men are considering my words. The fact that I’m still in the room is, unto itself, a miracle.
“I’ve never heard that Senator Sutton has an issue with the Greeks,” Rowan states flatly. “Are you sure about that?”
“I am.”
“The senator is loyal to The Family,” my father states. “He won’t talk to us unless Victor agrees to this.” He’s referencing Luca’s father, the Italian don.
“It’s probably a good thing that Victor’s son happens to have a very serious beef with the Greeks at the moment,” Liam jokes. My husband’s smile is back. “Maybe if Victor helps us, it’ll keep Luca from trying to finish off Timmy.”
“Luca isn’t the one who will be finishing him,” Nolan growls. “Fucking traitor.”
Rowan stands, ignoring my brother. “I’ll call Victor. Once that conversation is done, we can reconvene.”
“Do I need to call Elizabeth?” I admit that I’m a bit out of my depth here. However, I’d like to speak with my friend before anyone reaches out to her father.
“Not yet,” Rowan cautions. “I don’t want to get ahead of the conversation with Victor.”
I nod. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I know that I’ve already pushed my luck as far as it’s probably willing to stretch today.
“You’re welcome to stay here for now, or I can reach out later this evening.
Whatever is most comfortable,” Rowan offers before he gives us a nod.
“Nolan, we need to talk before you head downstairs,” and with that final comment, Rowan walks out of the room.
My father walks over to kiss my forehead before he follows his boss.
After my brothers hug me, and Liam’s father pronounces that they are headed to his place in the city, my husband turns to me. “Do you want to head upstairs to rest, or should we head home?”
I’m still seated in his lap, and I attempt to stand when he pulls me closer.
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I like having you close. Just let me know where we’re headed.”
“I’d like to go home now,” I tell him before pressing my lips to his. Today is finally catching up to me, because instead of standing to leave, I snuggle into Liam’s warmth after our brief kiss.
He tugs gently on my braid. “I’m so sorry.”
I pull back. “For what?”
“I should have never let you go to campus today. I should have been there. I should have—”
I quiet him with my mouth. He doesn’t respond immediately, but when I run my tongue along the seam of his lips, he responds. Forcefully. I gasp when he tugs my hair back and changes the angle of my head so he can plunder my mouth. Liam’s hum of pleasure vibrates against my chest.
“We’re not going to make it back to our place,” he mutters before his hand travels under my sweatshirt and cups my breast.
“Wait. What?” I’m trying to keep up, but I’m lost in the sensation of his fingers plucking at my sensitive nipple while his mouth travels across my jawline.
Instead of responding, Liam picks me up.
My legs automatically go around his waist. He walks us over to the library door, and I panic for a moment.
He’s not going to walk us out into the hallway with me hugging him like a koala, is he?
I don’t have to wonder long when he presses me against the door and turns the lock.
“I need you,” he murmurs before kissing me again. “All of you. Now. Need to see you’re whole.”
He pulls back so that my legs slide down his body.
He wastes no time in whipping the sweatshirt over my head.
It’s as if we are in a race to see who can undress the other first, hands grabbing, unzippering, yanking.
I don’t care about our location or circumstances at the moment. Nothing matters. Except for him.
Liam crouches as he works my leggings down.
He takes a deep inhale. “Fuck, beauty.” I feel his hot breath against my core only for a second before his tongue touches my sex with intention.
“You taste so good. My perfect girl.” He begins to lap at me as if he’s starving.
As if he is making up for lost time. As if he can’t get enough.
My knees buckle and I grab his shoulders to steady myself. “Liam, please.”
Instead of responding, he sucks my clit into his mouth as two of his thick fingers penetrate me.
Oh. Oh fuck. This is too much. I’m going to burst apart.
I’m going to—a wail leaves my lips as I shatter around his fingers.
My wetness coats his hand and my thighs.
My entire body is shaking and I can’t make sense of anything other than the sensation of absolute bliss that has taken over every fiber of my being.
My legs finally give out and Liam catches me before I hit the ground. He carries me bridal style over to the table where the heads of the Irish mob just sat and contemplated the future. He spreads me out as if I’m his own personal feast. His eyes rake over my body.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he husks.
“Jesus Christ. It fucking hurts to look at you sometimes.” His fingertips trail over my breasts, my belly.
They dance along my pubic bone before trailing down my thigh.
“You’d probably run if you knew the things I want to do to you. ” His voice is low. Wicked. I shiver.
“Please.” I can’t believe I’m begging him. But I am. “Do them. Please. I’m done running.” I just came harder than I can remember, and yet, I am desperate for him. Desperate to feel the way his cock stretches me. To see that look of ecstasy in his eyes just before he comes.
Liam makes a noise in the back of his throat before he pulls me down the table so that my legs hang over the edge.
He pushes my knees apart before stepping up to run the tip of his cock over my entrance.
He seems entranced by watching himself tease me, running the head of his dick over my clit, again and again.
I’m a blubbering mess at this point. “Liam,” I whine. “Please, baby. I need you.”
His eyes snap to mine. His pupils have dilated to almost completely overtake the normal beautiful blue of his eyes. “I need you too. More than you know.” And with those words, my husband enters me in one brutal thrust.
My hands fly to his biceps to hang on. I am so full. So stretched. It’s almost painful, but the roar that came from Liam as he entered me has me entranced. He pulls back and my pussy clenches, empty. I’m about to protest the loss when he thrusts again. And again. I sob.
“That’s it, beauty. That’s it.” He is murmuring to me now. Softly. His voice is at odds with the harsh way his body is using mine. Filling mine. “Tell me how this feels,” he demands.
“It hurts,” I sob, and his face twists before I say, “I want more. Don’t stop.”
“Mmmmmfuck,” is Liam’s only response to my admission. His hips work at a savage pace until I’m climbing so high, it feels as though I’ve left my body. It’s so good. So, so good.
He is all that I am aware of. The look on his face.
The way his muscles bunch and flex with every movement.
How the tendons in his neck stand out with his effort.
The low, feral sounds he’s making. It’s too much.
My core is tightening. My world is spinning.
My body hits its peak and I jerk beneath him, my nails digging into his skin as I try, desperately, not to take my eyes off his face.
Liam shouts his release, continuing to meet my gaze, with a look of awe and rapture. It feels like I can see his soul, shaken and beautiful. And mine.
Liam leans down to softly kiss me before pulling back to run a thumb down my cheek. “I’m not going to lose you, Taryn Kathleen McGuiness.”
I smile softly at him. “You didn’t lose me. You won’t.”
His brow tightens, like he’s not quite sure if he believes it.
“I thought about running,” I admit quietly. “But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after everything—not after you.” My fingers brush against the side of his jaw. “You found me when I didn’t even know I needed to be found. And you held on, even when I didn’t make it easy.”
“You almost got taken,” he rasps, the words raw. “I was too far. Too fucking slow.”
“But I wasn’t taken,” I say gently. “I’m here. I’m alive. And you? You’re the reason I made it out. You killed someone for me, Liam.” I still haven’t fully processed that that happened. I wonder if he has.
He exhales shakily, like the weight of it all is finally allowed to land. “I can’t lose you like that again. I won’t.”
“You’re not going to,” I murmur. “Because I’m right here, Liam. And I’m not going anywhere. Not when it’s easy. Not when it’s impossible. Not ever.”
He studies me like I’m something precious. Fragile, but his.
“You scare the hell out of me,” he murmurs. “You make me want things I didn’t think I could have. A future. A real one. With you.”
I grin and tuck my head under his chin. “Good. That means I’m doing something right.”
He lets out a soft laugh and tightens his hold on me, squeezing me close, as if we aren’t still defiling the O’Toole library’s table.
“Promise me something,” he murmurs against my hair.
“Anything.”
“When we fight again—and we will, because I’ll fuck up again—you’ll still come back to this.”
“To us?” I whisper.
“To me. This feeling. This forever.”
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart.
“Always.”