Page 76 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

I rise to the tips of my toes and place a small kiss on his cheek. Light stubble has grown in, and I’m momentarily distracted by the urge to find out what that kind of friction would feel like between my legs.

“I can hear your thoughts without you saying a word. Later, I promise.”

“You really are the devil, my Irish mobster. I’ll be back before you realize I’m gone.”

“Doubtful.”

“Oh?”

He takes me in his arms. “Yes. Because where you go, I go.” He turns to the bathroom, raising his voice. “Grey, Drake, hurry the fuck up already.”

Turning back to me he says, “I’ve changed my mind. Now let’s go get what you can’t live without so we can get back here and part those pillowy soft lips of yours with my already aching cock.”

A thrill runs through me. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Katriona

We pull up outside my apartment complex and slip inside my unit without a problem. A few people peek out, and as soon as they see my men’s grim faces, they quickly slam their doors and return to minding their own business. Until the next person comes walking through, I’m sure. No one around here can keep their noses clean.

“I won’t be long.”

I shove aside the embarrassment of having them see the dump I’ve called home for six months. It’s nothing new to them anyway. If they sat outside for even half of that, less even, they know the kind of neighborhood we are in.

Drake leaves the two enforcers who came with us downstairs, so no one is getting in or out without them knowing.

I dash off to my room and shed my uniform in favor of a pair of jeans, flats and a cute halter top that sparkles with tiny amber sequins that the sales lady said matched my eyes.

I stand in front of my mirror and flip my hair over to gather the long, thick mass in a top knot. When I stand back up, I nearly swallow my own tongue, which prevents me from screaming.

A brutish, rough hand clamps over my mouth, and I don’t need a proper introduction to know whose filthy hand is cutting off my air.

Marcus.

My closet door swings open, and another guy comes waltzing into my room. The one feature I loved most about this tiny apartment is going to be what gets me killed.

Like hell. I have finally found my happiness. I’m not going out like this. My fear quickly turns into rage.

I kick out, not really aiming for anything and when my foot hits my dresser, glass crashes to the floor.

Heavy footfalls carry through my apartment, and I scream around the sausage fingers covering my mouth.

Muscles pulls out a gun with a long tube at the end.

Oh shit. He’s finally going to get what he wants.

I draw my feet up, and the sudden shift of weight knocks my captor off balance, making his hand pull away from my mouth.

“Gun!” I scream and get a good backhand across the cheek for it. I can take it. The harsh force behind the hit knocks me against the door, and I fling it open, taking cover behind the skimpy sofa. Luckily it’s not pushed up completely against the wall. I don’t know where the men are, but I know a shootout isn’t new territory for them.

A deep voice bellows from my room. “You’ll pay for that, you little whore. Just like your father did. Nobody cheats me and lives.”

The words mean nothing to me, and I’m not about to answer him back and give up my position.

Several zings of metal against metal fill the silence and loud thuds thunder over the floorboards.

I duck around the edge of the sofa and catch Sylan just as he buries his fist into Marcus’ ugly, puckered face. Thug number two is taking aim from my bathroom door at Grey.

“Grey!”

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