The Marriage Contract (17 page)

The stranger looked up, his blue eyes glinting in the near darkness. “You’re close, lovely, but you’re not coming until it’s on my cock.”

Her mouth worked, but no words came out. He slowed his fingers’ movements, sliding up to circle her clit. Her entire body tightened at the touch, reacting even as her mind tried to catch up with his words. They were so…possessive. There was no room in her life for another possessive and dominant man, even for such a short time as this.

But then he kissed her again, and she threw caution to the wind. It was one night. She’d never see him again. She never even had to know his name. He broke away, his hands withdrawing from her body. “I’m going to fuck you, lovely. If that’s not what you want, now’s the time to speak up.”

In answer, she went for the button on his jeans, and carefully drew down the zipper. A condom wrapper crinkled as she took his cock into her hand, the feeling of it bringing out another whimper. He kissed her neck, moving her hand so he could roll on the condom. “I love that fucking sound. It makes me crazy for you.”

She wasn’t sure she’d ever made that sound before. Every other time she’d sought escape in the arms of a stranger,
she’d
been the one in control and driving things. There was no control to be had tonight. He lifted her, spreading her legs, pinning her against the wall so she was helpless to do anything but take whatever he chose to give. “Last chance.”

“Oh my God, just fuck me already.”

His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Your wish is my command.” He shoved into her in one movement that stole her breath, stole her thoughts, stole her very soul.

Before that thought could truly terrify her, he moved again, sliding in and out of her, rolling his hips in a way that hit that sensitive spot. Normally, she had to come at least once before she could orgasm from penetration alone, but he had her primed and ready before he ever brought his cock out. And now…

Now her body sparked with pleasure, promising an orgasm to end all orgasms.

She started to reach for him, but he shook his head. “Arms above your head. I want to see you.”

He couldn’t see more than shadows…could he? It didn’t matter, because the command stripped her bare in a way that had nothing to do with the physical. She obeyed.

“There’s my girl.” He started moving again, slower this time. “You’re so hot and tight around me, lovely. And that whimper? Fuck, I could spend hours coaxing that sound from those sweet lips. Would you make it again if I went to my knees for you and sucked that sensitive little clit into my mouth?”

The pleasure that had been building with each stroke exploded at his words, and she shrieked. The sound barely escaped her mouth when his hand was there, muffling her cries as he closed the minuscule distance between them and kept fucking her, drawing out her orgasm until all she could do was cling to him and take it. He came with a curse, grinding against her, and nearly sending her over the edge again. “Damn.”

She slapped his shoulder. “Let me down.” That had been too intense, too possessive, just too damn much. She hadn’t signed on for this quaking through her body when she’d offered to bring him back here. Her life was already enough of a mess without some stranger pulling at her in ways she didn’t know how to cope with.

He didn’t move. “Tell me your name first.”

“No.” She wiggled, but she wasn’t getting anywhere with him wedged between her thighs on one side and the concrete wall on the other. Against all reason—and her better judgment—the thought sent a bolt of heat directly through her. Part of her didn’t want him to let her go.

Which meant she had to get the hell out of here.
Now
. “Let me go.”

“Your name, lovely. I can stay here all night.” He thrust a little and, to her horror and traitorous desire, she could already feel him hardening in her again. Part of her wanted to keep silent and go another round, but panic reigned supreme. This hadn’t been the escape she was hoping for. No, this man made her feel branded—like she was
his
.

If he could do that after a single time, she didn’t want to know what he could do after two.

So she answered him. Anything was better than being held in his power a second longer. “Carrigan.” It never even occurred to her to lie, but as soon as the name was out of her mouth, she regretted it. It was yet another mark of the way this man was different from the others, and she didn’t need the reminder.

“Unique name. I feel like I’ve heard it…” His eyes went wide and he backed up so fast, she would have fallen if he hadn’t closed the distance just as quickly and caught her. “No fucking way. You’re Carrigan O’Malley.” He cut in before she could say anything. “Don’t bother denying it. You’ve got the same coloring as Teague. I would have noticed it sooner if it wasn’t for the eyes.”

She pushed against his chest, gaining a few precious inches. “Who the hell are you?”

“Well, lovely, I’m a token of your shitty lucky tonight.” What she could see of his expression in the low light made her heart go cold. “I’m James Halloran. And you’re coming with me.”

“No!”

“You don’t have a choice.” He moved faster than she could have anticipated, throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieked as he opened the closet, sure someone would hear and come investigating, but the music drowned the sound out. Beating at his back didn’t do a damn bit of good, either.

He pushed open the side door, the cold shooting straight up her short dress. She screamed again—out here at least, there wasn’t the music to contend with—and struggled harder. It didn’t matter. His arm was a band around the back of her thighs, sealing her to him. He started jogging, the bouncing driving the air from her lungs and preventing another cry for help.

She heard a man call his name and then he dumped her in a trunk. Carrigan shoved her hair out of her eyes, in time to see something like regret on his face before he slammed the trunk closed, leaving her alone in the darkness.

S
weat dripped down Callie’s body, and her muscles shook from dancing for so long. She glanced at Sloan and Keira, and found them both flagging as well. How long had they been out here? She touched both their arms and jerked her chin toward the bar. They nodded, looking as wilted as she felt. Wilted and happy. Threats from Carrigan aside, apparently she’d been right—Callie needed this more than she’d needed a spa day. Out in the middle of the dance floor she was just another woman with no past and no future, the music driving every single thought and worry out of her mind.

But now it was time to come back to earth.

They made their slow way to the bar, and Callie looked around, trying to pick Carrigan out of the people standing there, and came up with nothing. She turned back to yell in Keira’s ear, “Where did Carrigan say she was going?”

“She didn’t. Hold on.” Keira trotted over and flagged down the bartender. They spoke over the bar for a few minutes, and then she trotted back. “Carrigan was here, but she left with some big, blond guy. I’ll text her and we’ll just meet her back at our place.”

Callie frowned. The woman had seemed far too protective to just up and leave her sisters to fend for themselves, especially when she so clearly didn’t trust Callie. “Are you sure she left with a man voluntarily?” There were more dangers now than there had ever been. She cursed herself for letting Teague’s sister out of her sight.

“Oh yeah.” Keira grinned. “They were practically making out here at the bar and
she
was the one leading the way when they left.”

Small mercies, though it didn’t reassure her as much as she’d like. If Carrigan was safe, then she was incredibly selfish to abandon them like this when it was her idea that they come here in the first place. She took a deep breath, and wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming scent of sweat and alcohol. “Let’s get out of here.” Both women nodded, so she led the way through the front door and hailed a cab.

The silence pounded against her ears much the same way the music had. She shook her head. “That was fun.”

Keira grinned. “The funnest. I’ll have to blackmail Carrigan into bringing me along next time she goes.”

“Keira.” Sloan sighed and typed away at her phone. “I let her know we left.” She seemed to sink into the worn seat of the cab, as if it had taken all her energy to get through the night and now she was done.

The rest of the ride passed quickly, Keira filling the silence with chatter about the songs and the club and the men she’d been far too interested in for Callie’s state of mind. She knew the girl was eighteen and legally an adult, but she couldn’t shake the protectiveness. Keira was just so fresh faced and young in a way Callie hadn’t felt in too many years to count, despite not being that much older than her. Innocence was something to be protected in their world because it came around so rarely.

The sisters poured out of the cab and stopped before shutting the door. Keira smiled. “I’m glad my brother is marrying you. You two are good for each other.”

It didn’t matter that she’d come up with that decision after a night of their barely talking—it still made Callie’s chest warm. “Thank you.”

Keira danced away, singing the last song they’d danced to. Sloan hesitated. “She’s right. Teague takes too much responsibility for everyone around him. He needs someone to look after him as much as he looks after all of us.”

The warmth in her chest spread, quickly doused by reality. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” And then Sloan was gone, following her younger sister into the house.

Callie rattled off the address to her home and sat back, feeling like she’d just lied through her teeth. She
did
want to keep Teague from danger, but it was her fault that he was in danger to begin with. Worse, he was looking for her and didn’t even know it. She rubbed a hand over her chest, but it did nothing to stop the ache starting there. Last night they’d shared something. They’d talked—really talked—and he’d brought her to heights she hadn’t thought possible and held her afterward like she was the most precious thing he’d ever possessed.

And she was lying to him.

The cab stopped on her street and she paid the driver before stepping out into the night. The cool air felt heavenly on her heated skin, but her reprieve that had come from the dancing was over now, and her worries were all too eager to come crashing back in. She still had no idea what she was going to do, and every day that flew by brought the increased risk of someone getting killed because she was too much of a coward to turn herself over to the Hallorans.

She dialed her phone before she could think better of it. It barely rang twice before Teague picked up. “Hey, angel. How are things going with my sisters? They haven’t made you reconsider saying yes at the altar, have they?”

“No.” She laughed a little. If she were any less selfish, she’d tell him the truth and accept the consequences, but she couldn’t make herself give Teague up. She could pretend it was because she didn’t want to hurt him, but it wasn’t the truth. If he knew what she’d done, he’d never look at her the same, and she couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing that wonderful combination of heat and caring in his eyes. “I just dropped Sloan and Keira off safely at home.”

“Did you have fun?”

It said something that he didn’t ask where Carrigan was. Maybe she was paranoid to be worried about the woman—none of her actual family seemed that concerned. “Yeah, I actually did.”

“Good.” The noise in the background almost drowned out the approval in his voice.

“Where are you?” The question was out before she could think better of it.

“Down at a pub with my brothers.” He hesitated. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this time with them until I got it.”

She’d known he cared for her—he’d have to be a liar of exceptional proportions to treat her the way he did and
not
care—but she appreciated each small vulnerability he revealed almost more than the outstanding sex. Because he was allowing her inside, and she’d been around him enough to know he didn’t do that with just anyone. Callie smiled. “I’m glad you’re getting it, then. Go have fun. You need it.”

“Come out with me tomorrow. Let’s get out of town for a few hours. Maybe go down to New York.”

She smiled. “That sounds like heaven.”

“Then it’s a date. I’ll see you tomorrow, angel.”

“See you tomorrow. Be safe.”

He laughed. “Always.”

Teague hung up the phone and turned to find Cillian mocking him. His brother froze, and then a slow grin spread over his face. “Man, you are so pussy whipped, it’s almost cute.”

“Fuck off.” He dropped back into his seat and eyed the shots that had been delivered while he wasn’t paying attention. “More shots?”

“Shots are what real men take when they’re not calling their girlfriend every five minutes to check in.”

Aiden leaned over and casually slapped the back of Cillian’s head. “Now’s a good time to stop talking.”

They raised their shots, all grinning like fools. He wasn’t sure when they all grew so busy that they had no time for each other, but it had been longer than he could remember since they did anything like this, anything
together
. Teague took the shot, the whiskey barely burning his throat. “We should do this more often.”

Cillian started to make some smart-ass comment, but Devlin cut in. “We should.”

“If you can leave that college you love so much long enough to come hang out with us.” Cillian laughed, a little too loudly. “College is meant to be enjoyed, little brother. You go for the women, the parties, and the sheer self-indulgence. You don’t go seriously.”

“No, that’s what
you
do in college.” Teague snorted. “How’s that degree in accounting treating you?”

“Hey, I like numbers. It was the easiest major I could pick that got our father off my back.” Cillian leaned over and gave him a stern look. “All I need are some sexy-ass glasses and I’d make a wicked accountant.”

Given his trendily tousled hair, ridiculously expensive suit with the brightly patterned tie, and tattoos, Cillian couldn’t look further from the old man who did the family’s books. But he was right that their father wanted to pad the future with family in every way he could—including setting up one of his sons as bookkeeper to keep every responsibility in-house that he possibly could.

“Unlike you, Devlin’s in college actually making something of his life.” Aiden swiped at Cillian halfheartedly. “Some of us take things more seriously than you—and by some, I mean all of us.”

“Asshole.”

“You know it.”

Devlin took a drink of his beer. “The only difference between us is that I like school.”

“Nope.” Cillian shook his head, and then did it again like he had water in his ear. “No, they’re right. I enjoyed fucking around, and I had a whole hell of a lot of fun, but you’re actually going to go on and accomplish something.”

Well, shit. They were in danger of getting morose. Teague elbowed Cillian. “You’re never
not
fucking around.”

“Damn straight.”

“Then we toast.” Aiden lifted his beer, his eyes a little glassy. “To those of us who fuck around. And to Devlin, the best of us all.”

Teague and Cillian raised their glasses, blatantly ignoring the embarrassment on their youngest brother’s face. “To Devlin.”

Of them all, Devlin had the best chance to be as free as anyone could be in their family. There were five siblings between him and the position of heir, and he wasn’t female to be traded to an allegiance. It would take some arguing, but he could probably convince their father to let him get a job doing something he’d truly love.

Aiden slouched in his seat, his back popping. “Someone has to get out, Devlin. It might as well be you.”

“You say that like all your future is set in stone. It isn’t.” Devlin set his beer back on the table, untouched. “You can change things. All of you can.”

The only changing going on these days was for the worse. Aiden was turning into their father, Teague was almost drowning in a war he couldn’t seem to get ahead of, and Cillian…Well, with Teague married and safely positioned for the glory of the O’Malley clan, their father would turn his gaze onto the next eldest child. Cillian’s days of freedom were nearly at an end, even with his plans to step up and take over the family books.

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until Cillian laughed, sliding sideways in his chair. “That just means I have to enjoy life to the fullest before it all starts crashing down around me.”

Devlin shook his head. “You’re hopeless. All of you. What happened to our sticking together, to us versus the world? You sound like you’ve given up.”

“And you sound like you haven’t been drinking nearly enough.” Teague peered into his brother’s beer. It blurred for a moment before snapping into focus. “Are you
sober
?”

“Someone has to be there to make sure you lot don’t end up lost and passed out in a back alley.”

Teague turned to Aiden. “You hear that? He’s not even drunk.” Hell,
he
shouldn’t have drank so much tonight—he hadn’t planned on it when he’d agreed to this—but the nostalgic feeling of being surrounded by his brothers had made him careless. He shook his head. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch.” Cillian snickered. “God, I crack myself up.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Teague flicked a peanut shell at him. He glanced at his phone and grimaced. It was well after one in the morning. “We have Mass in seven hours.”

They all exchanged looks. Cillian shrugged. “Not like I haven’t shown up hungover for Mass before.”

“There’s a difference between showing up hungover and showing up still drunk.” Aiden rose, wobbled a little, and then straightened. “I’ll take care of our tab.”

“I guess that’s that.” Cillian drained his beer and stretched. “I’ve got to use the pisser.”

Teague watched him stumble off. “Our brother is a serious winner.”

“Leave him alone. We each deal with this stuff in our own way.”

That was the damn truth. It just seemed like stress, and their family bullshit didn’t touch Cillian the way it did the rest of them. But what did he know? He and Cillian had never been particularly close—responsibility weighed on Teague too heavily and his younger brother too lightly for them to do more than aggravate the hell out of each other. He glanced at Devlin. Maybe he was right. “How’d you get so smart?”

“I learned from the best.” He grinned. “Now, let’s get you home so you’re not a mess for your woman tomorrow.”

They’d specifically picked a pub they could walk back from, though he wasn’t sure the few blocks would be enough to sober them up before they got there. Teague collected Cillian and handed him off to Aiden. The walk through the brisk night air would hopefully balance out the short distance before they actually reached the front door. His mother didn’t bother to yell at them, but she could send all four of them to their knees with a look of profound disappointment. “I’d like to be able to do that someday.”

Devlin looked over. “Do what?”

“That thing our mother does with her face when we’ve screwed up.”

Aiden snorted. “Good luck with that. She’s had an entire lifetime to perfect that look.” He cursed when Cillian swerved and started singing “Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced” at the top of his lungs. “Damn it, shut up. You’ll get the cops called on us for sure.”

“That’s
sure
to get us the look from Mother.” Teague laughed. Headlights cut through the night, blinding them. Devlin yanked him back onto the sidewalk, waiting for the truck or whatever it was to drive past.

Except it didn’t.

A car door opened in the sudden silence of the night. Behind him, Aiden cursed, but Teague still didn’t get it…until a man stepped in front of the headlights, a gun in his hand.
Shit
. He backpedaled, keeping a death grip on Devlin’s arm. He was vaguely aware of Aiden doing the same thing with Cillian, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man. “Don’t do this.” He raised his voice. “This is a mistake.”