Page 32 of To Catch A Rook

It was a give-and-take of power and control. A mutually subscribed understanding—and occasionally, a subtle and effective weapon.

And, of course, I liked to come. Who didn’t?

Kellan was still on my shit list, and I wouldn’t be the one to grovel with Aaron. When he was ready to be tamed by a wanting woman and stone cold sober, he could come to me.

He’d left the next morning, just as I knew he would. I wouldn’t be entertaining the whims of a sloppy man who couldn’t commit to any path.

Not Aaron—not with the history we had.

Which left only one other man on my list. Marty had forwarded Lauchlan’s contact information last week; I hadn’t yet bothered to reach out.

Now that I knew the playing field, I was ready to play the game. How far would Lucky go to keep up the ruse? It was time for a little test.

I scrolled through my phone and typed a quick message with my name and my address. If Lauchlan was too stupid to recognize the booty call, then he certainly wouldn’t be the man to satisfy me tonight, and I would have to find another way to test his resolve.

I was done feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow, I would continue my quest to rid the world of despicable fucks like Marco Alvarez and Antonio Carlos. Tonight, I would indulge in the best escape known to woman.

I rose from my slump on the couch. From my walk-in closet, I selected the perfect set of lingerie.

It was time to get lucky.

Iwhistled a tune as I strolled through the hallways of Ma’s penthouse suite, heading for the shower to clean up from a hell of a day. Bossing techies around was a bit of a bore, so I was itching to get out in the field to do my real job.

I stood under the hot spray and lost myself to the ritual of soap, grooming, a good tug from thoughts of another shower experience, and a thorough rinse, before getting out to see a flashing notification on my phone.

Unknown:Hillary. 5767 Rodham Drive, Penthouse A. Code 746.

Still sopping wet, I froze and read the text three more times, squinting my eyes at the screen to make sure my brain hadn’t melted in the shower.

The cheeky little minx.

In my line of work, I rubbed shoulders with powerful men and women alike, but Blondie had an essence about her – a fierce commander in a tight dress and sex heels. And fuck me if it didn’t make my dick jump every time I thought about her.

You can command me to your heart’s content, Mo Mhuirnin.

A text at near midnight could only be one of two things: I was about to get offed, or fucked. I would always take the risk where little Blondie was concerned.

I changed quickly into dark jeans and a light Henley, not wasting a second, in case this text was coming from a moment of weakness. I was an opportunistic cunt at the best of times, and I wasn’t passing up the chance for an evening between a beautiful woman’s thighs.

And to see her penthouse, of course. Couldn’t think of a better way to get into her fortress than through a little foreplay. This was turning out to be a banner day, after all.

My cock stiffened to half-mast as I imagined how she’d taste. Christ, I was turning into a right fifteen-year-old virgin.

I made my way down ten stories, but then reconsidered using a vehicle and walked across the park instead.

The Tallaght streets of Dublin had raised me, and a light jog across the fancy park in Carlisle’s downtown before midnight was practically a child’s playground in school hours. I hadn’t strapped on my gun or knife. I had no intentions of keeping my clothes on, and my accessories weren’t a topic of conversation I was interested in having tonight.

I was hoping to do no talking at all.

Picturing my Blondie with a thigh strap holding a sheath of daggers took all the blood from my system right to the head of my dick.

I took a deep breath and rode the glitzy lift to her floor, centering myself and my teenage cock. Her building was far fancier than Ma’s, but none of that mattered to me. You see one gorgeous building, you’ve seen them all. I preferred to look at art or jewelry, or beautiful people. They had far better stories to tell.

I cared about the security system. I subtly glanced at the mirrored walls, catching two cameras and a motion sensor just above the door. Pretty typical for a condo—Blondie must be smarter than that.

The lift took me right into her place; the doors opened into a stark foyer. I peered around the space, but didn’t hear a soul.

My adrenaline spiked at the thought of a little adult game of naked ‘hide-and-seek.’ Or cat-and-mouse murder.

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