Page 105 of Mob Bride

“Come, Daddy. Please. I need to know I made you come.”

My need to make that happen replaces my need to come as my second orgasm hits me. He slams into me, grinding his pubic bone against my clit as he pants. He rocks his hips, rubbing against me. I know he’s coming. I did that. I made him come.

He lowers my leg, and I hook it over his hip. His kiss is soft and languid, and I don’t want it to end. We’re both panting and sweating as we watch each other when we draw apart. There’s nothing to say. We understand each other without words.

He rolls us, so I’m straddling him. We work together to pull the covers over us. We remain like this until his cock refuses to stay hard. I shift to snuggle into the crook of his arm. We’re both out like a light in an instant.

Our peaceful sleep shatters when hands yank me from the bed where I’m still snuggled close to Shane. I scream as I’m practically dropped on the floor naked. Shane’s scrambling to reach for the bedside table before he realizes—just like I do—this isn’t exactly an enemy attack.

“Carys Pritchard, you’re under arrest.”

Shane can’t draw a weapon on federal agents. Instead, he swings and nails one in the face before he rips the comforter from the bed and tosses it toward me. He has no issue crawling across the bed naked as he wraps the blanket around me.

“Get the fuck out, so my girlfriend can get dressed.”

“This time around, Mr. O’Rourke, you don’t issue the orders.”

I gawk at Steve, completely stunned he’s the one who came in here and put his hands on me. The moment they realized I was undressed—which should have been instantly, since I always sleep with my top arm above the covers—they should have only sent in a female agent to get me out of bed. Shane would have stayed covered up if that were the case, but four agents in this bedroom—three of whom are male—means there’s no way Shane would react calmly to this. It’s clear he doesn’t carewho sees him naked, but he very much cares I’m exposed and vulnerable.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here.”

Each word’s punctuated with venom as he glowers at Steve. When I sweep my gaze over the other agents standing in the room, it registers they all have their guns drawn.

“Shane!” That’s Sean’s voice yelling from down the hall.

“Yeah?”

“They got you, too?”

“Yeah, they don’t want to let Carys get dressed.”

“That’s some bullshit. We’ll have all of their names and badges.”

The brothers go back and forth down the hall, forcing the agents to turn their attention toward the voice coming from a bedroom they can’t see. It gives me the chance to grab the t-shirt from the end of the bed. We woke up a couple hours ago, clawing at each other, needing to feel our bodies joined again, so we never wound up putting clothes on. Once I’m covered with the t-shirt, I stand and reach for the shorts, but Steve grabs my wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing? Keep your hands where we can see them.”

I look incredulously at him. The t-shirt covers my ass, but not much more than that. I put my hands up and glance over at Angela.

“Hand me my shorts, please. You can search them before you give them to me.”

She grabs them and pats them down before she flings them at me. I’m being treated like a suspect, not a colleague. Then again, they arrived, declaring they’re arresting me.

Once I have my shorts on, Shane pays attention to his own nakedness and grabs the clothes he laid on the bed when he got me the shorts and shirt. Neither of us speaks, exerting our right to remain silent. They try to ask us questions and demandanswers, but we both clam up. As they cuff us, his gaze locks with mine, and I’m certain I understand what he’s thinking. I should remain silent, and his family will get us out of this somehow.

We meet Sean on the landing, and he’s handcuffed as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re going to charge him as an accomplice to my alleged crimes. Or they’ll say he harbored a fugitive, or he’s aiding and abetting my evasion from law enforcement.

The twins dressed identically. They’re even wearing the same basketball shorts. There’s a slight difference in pattern to their t-shirts, but they have the same brand and design to them. It truly is uncanny, since I’m certain they each have other clothes here in their closets but picked matching outfits. I wonder if they’ve always done that. Or are these their getting-arrested clothes? It wouldn’t surprise me if this family had an entire wardrobe designed just for encountering law enforcement. I know that’s ridiculous, but it still feels like a possibility.

They separate all of us when we get downstairs. There’re cars waiting for us. Among them are three sedans with metal grates to separate the arrested party from the law enforcement. I recognize the agents who take Shane and Sean. Angela and Steve climb into the car with me.

Immediately, the game begins. It’s not good cop, bad cop. It’s good cop, good cop. They try to sweeten me up by reassuring me everything’ll be fine, and that they’ll help me, and that it’s all been an act to convince our colleagues they’re taking my arrest seriously. Steve’s voice makes me want to drive my fist up his nose.

“Carys, we know you got caught up in all of this, and I’m sure it began as a way to protect yourself against Bartlomiej, but you’ve got to come into the office without resisting.

He falls silent for a moment. I assume he thinks I’ll agree with him, but I keep my lips sealed. Angela glances over at him. Isee her head move through the cutout pattern of the metal grate. She gives it a try.

“Come on, Carys. We know you wouldn’t have done any of this if you weren’t under duress. Shane O’Rourke’s obviously forcing you.”

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