Page 88 of Forbidden Bond

His sharp inhale revealed the phone was forgotten and both his fists locked in her hair. Either he’d hung up on his friend, or Niall had a ringside seat to this radio show.

The cursing was expected as he thrust into her throat, those foreign words, the gritted teeth that she glimpsed as tears watered her eyes.

Even though he had control, all the power was hers. She was doing this to him, for him, and he took it, like it could be the last time.

The impact of his climax showered her throat with the truth of his possession. Forever more, his purpose, and his pleasure were hers.

And the phone rang again. At least that gave her a clue Niall hadn’t been listening in.

Conn grabbed it from above his watch drawer. “Yeah?” His eyes came to hers again. “Looking right at her.” Not in the mostrespectable of positions. He tipped his mouth from the phone. “Strat’s downstairs.”

Well, that was no kind of subtle. “You’re excusing me? You’ve never done that before.”

Not in their private space, where she had free access to every other part of him.

He caught her hand to jerk her onto her feet. “Your brother’s never called while you’re giving head before.” And that shock statement provoked a groan from the other end of the line as she got a slap of horror. “Strat’s downstairs.”

Yeah, he’d said that already and she appreciated the reminder. Conn kissed her hair and smacked her ass when she bent over to swipe up her robe. Seriously? He’d just said that with Lach right there?

Still in something of a stupor, she tied her robe while crossing the bedroom and heard the cherry on top.

“Not a problem,” Conn said, she guessed to Lach. “I finished. Talk.”

Her mind was still underwater, gasping for air, when she got to the kitchen. Strat seemed in a good mood, though still bruised and, she had to believe, tender. Wounds didn’t heal overnight, she knew that from personal experience.

“What’s that look for?” Strat asked and immediately corrected himself. “Never mind. Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”

Coffee would help, right?

Yes, coffee.

“You don’t want to know?” she asked, going to the coffee machine.

“When you answer my dumbass questions, I end up making plans to hock my car so I can pony up bail.”

“Conn would pay my bail.”

“Missing the point there, Scamp.”

Maybe she was, yeah. After pressing a few buttons, the scent of the coffee pouring released some of her tension.

“You spent some time with Lach,” she said, turning to lean on the counter. “When you were looking for me?”

“Yeah,” her friend said, wary. “Some.”

Had to be more than that. “Did you notice anything weird about him?”

“Weird how?”

While holding her own, she took a mug of java to him. “Like he’s changed. Not as… Lachlan, as he was before.”

Strat scooped up the mug. “I didn’t know the guy that good to start with. Sure, him and Immie were hot and heavy, but we were chalk and cheese… Least I thought we were.”

Interest piqued, she lowered into a seat by him, leaning in close. “You thought…? You thought he was good and wholesome and—”

“Teacher’s pet? A blue-eyed boy? Detective Do-Things-by-the-Book? Yeah.”

“And that opinion’s changed?”

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