Page 31 of Bittersweet Revenge
I don’t move as Tiernan gets dressed. He pulls his cell out of his pocket, and I’m struck speechless when he says, “What’s your number?”
No words come right away, so he asks me again.
“Why?”
“I want it.”
“I thought this was to get me out of your system.”
He shrugs. “You keep things interesting. No one around here dares treat me the way you do. For whatever reason, it gets my dick hard.”
He does the same for me.
“Give it to me, or I’ll take it from Aislin.”
With a sigh, I give in. But then I guess it’s not really giving in, is it? This is exactly what I wanted—to get close to him.
Tiernan enters my number into his phone, then pushes it back into his pocket and picks upThe Count of Monte Cristo. “I’m borrowing this.”
“Fuck off. I’m reading it.”
He shrugs. “And now I am too.” He tosses a cocky grin over his shoulder and slips out of my room as easily as he came in.
Fuck. That was…I don’t even know what that was.
The hatred for him and myself still blazes beneath my skin, but I do what I do best and ignore it.
Reaching over the side of the bed, I find my underwear and shorts and pull them back on. I smell him on my skin, feel his sticky cum dried into me…and smile.
A second later, the door opens, and Ollie comes in. “Tiernan O’Shea? That’s who you’re hooking up with? You know who his father is, don’t you?”
My body tenses. Shame washes over me. “No,” I lie.
“Look him up—Sloan O’Shea. He’s dangerous, Dean.”
“I’ll be fine.” Another lie. Nothing will ever be the same again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tiernan
I’m halfway tomy house before I realize I’m smiling. Tonight was hot, and Dean really does it for me, but I have a million things I should be focusing on rather than busting a nut with my little fighter.
School, business, Hal fucking Winters. My father. And most importantly, what could have happened to Aislin tonight.
There’s absolutely no reason to be smiling.
And yet because of that little fucker, I am.
My phone rings, and despite it being nearly four in the morning, I have no choice but to speak with my father. When Sloan O’Shea calls, you answer, or you’re punished—especially me.
We have check-in calls every Sunday, so the fact that he’s calling now, and so late at night—or early in the morning, I guess—means something bad happened or he’s pissed at me.
He couldn’t have found out what happened tonight, could he? Ash wouldn’t tell him, and though Cil and Rory probably should, they won’t. They’re loyal and keep my secrets. I know how lucky I am to have them.
A weight lands in my chest as I pull my cell from my pocket and answer the call. “Hello?”
“Why am I not getting as much money from you as I should?”
