Laughing, I leaned back to stare at him. “Ya know your measurements?” I couldn’t help myself, I brushed his blond hair off his forehead where it was dancing in front of his sleepy eyes. All I wanted to do these days was touch him.
He shook his head.
I had to gape for a second. “Ya don’t even know your measurements?”
Sweet pink bloomed in his cheeks. “Never needed much beyond T-shirts and jeans.”
“First stop is my tailor, then you’ll show me how mean ya can look.”
He lightly brushed his lips to mine, and that ended the way anyone with a brain would expect as I tipped him over backward and nestled myself between his thighs. Our morning salute turned rough and fast as I prepped him and then buried myself in his arse. He sucked a bruise onto my neck that would definitely let everyone know I was his, at the same moment I brought us both to a quick orgasm that left us wanting more.
Alas, he’d chosen the workingman’s life, and we had a three-hour trip ahead of us, so we didn’t lounge in bed for a second round.
Corbin drove on the way down to the city, and that left me free to sit in the back with him. We didn’t talk much, but when he did ask questions, it was things like, “What exactly do you do for Killough?”
“Negotiations,” I answered quickly.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll see,” I whispered back.
Where he might have gone a bit sulky if I’d said the same thing two weeks ago—not that I would have said that out loud—today he merely took my words at face value. He was curled up and napping against my shoulder by the time we pulled into a lucky parking spot outside of Galloway’s.
“Wake up, my angel,” I murmured into his ear.
He sighed and straightened slowly, giving me a look.
“I’ll call ya what I like.”
He shook his head but didn’t bother trying to pretend he wasn’t smiling as he followed me out of the car. “Why are we going to a bar before breakfast time?” he grumbled. His eyes narrowed on the dirty windows lit with neon signs for alcohol. Galloway’s took up the bottom level of a ten-story brownstone, and he glanced along the street as if checking that we were in the right spot. “Thought we were seeing the suit guy?”
“He’s still asleep. Right now, we must collect a few things,” I said happily and shoved open the front door of the bar. Directly across the way, with his arse parked in front of a mug, sat Tadgh Quinn.
“Ya lazy lout!” He flinched and managed to stand without falling over his barstool, but it was a near miss.
“Jamie! I thought ya went home last night. Oh.” He stared at Hunter and then came over, hand out. “Ya! Wasn’t sure we’d see ya again.”
Hunter shook easily with Tadgh and the last of my apprehension drained away. He glanced curiously around the bar, but I dragged Tadgh and Hunter, one in each hand, toward the door. Corbin hadn’t even turned off the engine. I opened the back door for Hunter, and shoved Tadgh when he went to climb in, giving him a glare that had him skulking around the car to get in the other side.
“Where are we headed?”
“Someplace special.” I grinned, not entirely sure Hunter would be up for this. He tugged at his black leather riding jacket, which he’d been happy to throw over his shoulders this morning. Then again, I’d seen him shoot a man dead. Maybe he would be all right. We arrived at the Virtue, and Hunter let out a wee grunt while Tadgh leaned forward to gape. So far he’d never stepped foot inside, and I wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his tongue in his mouth, but he deserved this too.
“Turned out that David Nunzio left his men to burn and escaped by his lonesome that day we blew up his father’s warehouse.”
“Ouch, that was his da’s?” Tadgh asked, and I had to laugh.
“Yeah,” Corbin said. “He was a waste of space, and his da must have agreed as well because when I went in there yesterday to grab him, there was no guard on him, and they must have known we’d be looking for his arse as soon as he didn’t turn up in the debris.”
“So why are we here?” Hunter asked and turned those big eyes of his on me for an explanation. I didn’t give him one, simply held out my hand to him.
We got out of the car and walked together inside. Sam on the front desk greeted us, but didn’t ask what we were doing here, and less than a minute later, Rourke Tormey strolled down the left side of the grand staircase. He looked like he was bright-eyed and ready to start the day.
Tadgh elbowed me and nodded toward Sam, who seemed very busy but kept peeking glances back at him. Sam was one of those willowy-limbed men who were more cute than handsome, especially with his black-rimmed glasses that took up a good deal of his face. He’d tried to make himself edgy with dyed black hair and two hoops pierced through the corner of his lip, but it hadn’t worked. “Do they all… uh, ya know, service people?”
Rourke came to a stop beside us and gave Tadgh a wicked grin. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Corbin sighed. “I sense a trap. Best not.”
