Page 141 of Forbidden Need

ALL DAY. All night. Fifty hours he’d been in that office. Working. Shouting. Meeting. Negotiating. Threatening. Guys were afraid to be in there and she didn’t blame them.

Lying in the dark felt wrong. Stag was home, yes, but without her guy, while he was dealing with trauma, she couldn’t settle to sleep. She shouldn’t be relaxing, thinking about recharging while he was still going full throttle.

As far as she’d witnessed, he hadn’t eaten a bite or drunk anything more than whiskey during his sit-in. If her guy wasn’t taking care of himself, someone had to step up. Like Strat said. Man, that guy somehow always knew the future.

How useful would Conn be running on empty? With threats closing in around them, he had to keep his wits. Continuing like he had would be a recipe for disaster and one she’d acknowledged, so couldn’t hide or deny that awareness later.

Getting up and wrapping herself in their sheet had purpose. Connel didn’t have to say he needed her. Her job was to support him and she wasn’t doing that alone in their bed.

“I don’t care if you have to tie him to the bumper and drag him here,” Conn barked at someone as she descended the stairs. “Just get him in this office!”

“Boss.”

Movement, people. The ragged edge to her guy’s voice was more than frustration. He knew what he wanted to do and didn’t give himself a break. After so many hours on the go, his mind would be slowing, his actions laboring. He needed her, this was exactly her role. Thus she swept the curtain aside to join them in the office; her arrival went unnoticed by her guy seated at the desk.

“What’s your fucking excuse?”

Twenty guys loitered around the office, standing, waiting their turn like peasants in the king’s court.

Tension hung heavy in the air, so thick it stuck to her skin like humidity in summer heat.

At the opposite end of the desk, on his feet, Niall’s concern bled from his gaze to hers for a flicker of a beat. Guy had probably been standing there for days. If Conn didn’t sleep, Niall wouldn’t either.

Few people had the right to interrupt the man at the center of all focus.

With the sheet trailing and not a hint of hesitation, she slid a hand onto his shoulder to gain his spotlight.

“Fucking speak,” he said, still concentrating on a goon, as she swerved her hips around his knee to sit on his thigh. “What the fuck…”

Connel slammed his fist on the desk. Those on the other side jumped in unison. Still, her love didn’t acknowledge her presence. Whatever he needed, she’d be patient.

The cigar box was close, maybe too close. Her eyes met Niall’s again. He got it. Just like her. Conn’s frayed edges could do them all harm. Time to claim the limelight.

“Baby…” she whispered, sinking lower, sliding a hand the width of his chest as she trailed her lips to the side of his neck.

“I’m sick of the fucking excuses, sick of this fucking bullshit!”

Anger reverberated through him. If he didn’t kill someone soon, he’d give himself a heart attack.

“Mo Grá,” she murmured, massaging his chest. “Come to bed with me, baby.”

Wriggling in his lap, she aimed to soothe. Kissing the angle of his jaw, his stubble, her lips snaked their way to the corner of his mouth expecting to tempt his into reciprocating.

Instead, he grabbed her jaw, painfully tight. “Desperate for it, striapach? We’re at war,” he snarled. “I have no time for whores. You want it? Niall…” His eyes burned into hers even as he called for his lieutenant. “Line up the guys, Bluebell’s taking them for a ride. They’ll take turns with the bitch all night. How many guys can you take in one shot?”

Slamming her hands to his chest, she shoved, but he put up no fight against her surging to her feet.

His arrogant laughter rumbled low. That sinister sneer wouldn’t triumph. If he wanted to play games, she’d play them right back. And she’d be damned before letting him pierce her armor in front of an audience. Rather than being a relief, she’d been humiliated. Who did that help? Did he feel better? She sure didn’t.

“Why take up valuable office space?” she drawled. “Let’s find out who can get me off the fastest. Can anyone beat the boss’s personal best?”

Before she could take a step, Conn snatched her wrist and yanked, pulling her face down to his.

“You open your legs for another man,” he snarled from between his teeth, “I’ll put a bullet between his eyes.”

And so she was vindicated. “That’s what I thought.”

Jerking her wrist free, she spun on her heels to march upstairs.

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