Shannon (5 page)

“Fuck! Yes!” Letting go of his head, her nails clawed at his shoulders, her body moving to get as much as she could.

Damn, he loved the way she rode his fingers! Her sweet pussy sucked him inside, holding him in a grip every bit as tight as a closed fist. It was going to be one hell of a tight fit, but he was down for the job. When her breathing started to get erratic and her movements more frantic, he gently bit her clit, sending her so far over she screamed, her body convulsing wildly.

“Shannon! Oh God, Shannon!”

Yeah, he liked the sound of his name on her lips. He was going to have to keep it there for a while yet. Shoving his pants down past his hips, he moved up only enough so that the head of his cock brushed against her tasty pussy.

“Sunshine doesn’t suit you,” he announced with a sudden burst of inspiration. “I think I will call you Shay.”

“Shay?” she choked out, her beautiful face puckered in confusion.

“Yeah. Shay for Shannon.” Unwilling to discuss that or anything else further, he thrust hard and deep.

He wasn’t prepared for his first thrust. Shay was tight—too tight. Her pussy walls gripped him unmercifully, locking down on him. He had to seesaw his way all the way inside. Not a virgin, but she certainly hadn’t been fucked in a good long while.

“Put your legs around my waist, sugar,” Shannon growled. “And hold on tight.”

Slow wasn’t an option. Especially not with the heels of her feet pressing into his buttocks, urging him deeper. The walls of her quim vibrated all around his dick, massaging him so goddamn perfectly he felt that shit down to his balls. Her sharp little teeth biting at his ear, the side of his neck, his fucking pec. The harder he slammed inside her, the more she bit, clawed, kicked. When he captured her wrists, pinning them to the bed, the hellcat bit his bottom lip. “Harder,” she demanded, digging her heels deeper into his buttocks.

“Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.” It was too fucking good. Hot, wet and tight; his baby was a triple threat.

“Please, Shannon, I need you so bad.” Fuck, her back arched magnificently, curving her body upward into his. “I need to come. Shannon, make me come.”

Well, shit. That had his hips thrusting harder, faster. He wasn’t going to last.

“Come for me, baby. Let it go.” Maybe if she came he could get control. Maybe she wouldn’t hug his shaft quite so snugly.

He was kidding himself. As soon as he gave her permission, she erupted, her walls contracting unmercifully around him. “Shit!” Shannon bucked, slamming inside her over and over again in a desperate drive to get as deep as he possibly could, and it still was nowhere near deep enough. “Fuck, Shay, baby, yeah. Suck down on my cock with your pussy. Take it, baby.” There was no way he could hold on. He powered inside her, erupting with a roar.

Shay was in trouble. Shannon O’Shea was deadly. This was the last man on earth she should be fucking because his ass was addicting. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. And just like they were girlfriend and boyfriend or some corny shit, he rolled off her, went into the bathroom only to return with a wet warm cloth, and proceeded to clean her off. If that wasn’t weird enough, the man climbed back on the bed and pulled her into a cocoon consisting solely of him.

“Sleep,” he commanded. “I’ll want you again in an hour. You won’t get much sleep tonight.”

Shay had done her research. None of the O’Shea brothers were down for relationships. They were cold bastards, all business. Word was they hated Old Man O’Shea and were slowly taking over the family empire. She figured she could hide as a worker bee, not making waves, not bringing notice to herself. And what happened? Immediately, she caught the notice of Shannon O’Shea. Not as lethal as his brother Fionn, but every bit as merciless as all four of them.

And what the fuck with calling her by her actual nickname? There was no doubt in her mind he had no idea who she was; otherwise she’d be answering questions right now, not being cuddled by a man who was rumored to have no heart. First thing in the morning she needed to get herself downstairs and start working like any of the other girls. Stay as far away from this man as possible. Screwing a bunch of anonymous guys was far, far safer than spending another night like this—not that he would want seconds…

But as the sun rose Shay had to revise that assessment. Oh yes, he had wanted seconds, thirds and fourths. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that wasn’t sore. Bite marks peppered her body…and his. Shannon created a wild woman in her, or maybe he just released a part of her she never knew was there. In any case, this might not have been such a good idea. The man had her in every position, wouldn’t allow her to hold anything back. For a woman who didn’t date much, or at all really, it was like a flood after a drought. How was anyone supposed to keep a hold of themselves after a night like that? Shit, she could feel some kind of weird attachment between them already. Not something she needed. Selling her body was one thing—she could rationalize that to keep her life. But selling her soul?

Slipping out the cage of his arms, Shay dared a quick shower, then looked around the room for her clothes. Her dress was nowhere, and she wasn’t about to put the same underwear back on, so she rummaged through the closet, pulling out a Patriots jersey. It fell to mid-thigh, covering most of her. Taking another look around, she decided to act like the call girl she was pretending to be. There was a small kitchen, so she fetched him a bottle of water, setting it next to the bed. Standing with her hands on her hips at the foot of the bed, she had to shake her head. The big-ass Irishman hadn’t even bothered to take his shit kickers off. He lay sprawled across the bed, stone-cold knocked out.

Well, he had earned his sleep. He’d probably be at least half as sore as she was when he woke. Noting a cigar and a dime bag on the nightstand, she quickly rolled him a blunt before sneaking off downstairs. This place probably had a room full of outfits for the freaks who came to buy pussy. It was weird that Shay was perfectly fine with having sex with a man who’d paid for it. Then again, they didn’t want to know who she was, could care less what she was running from or even if she had any kind of dreams outside these walls. They just wanted the fantasy, to get off then move on. She was nothing more than a piece of meat. That was fine coming from a stranger. But from Shannon….

Damn it, she really needed to stop thinking about him.

Making her way back to the office they were in the night before, she ran straight into the silent mountain that had ushered her into the room the night before. Thank God.

“Hey, can you show me where the clothes are? Costumes or something?”

As if she were speaking Chinese, he just stood there and stared, the bound and gagged woman still in the chair, though she wasn’t tied to it—her hands were behind her. The woman’s eyes were wild, her bright burgundy hair all over the place, as her glare shot daggers at Shay. Like Shay had something to do with the chick being all bound.

Turning away from the woman who had obviously pissed off the wrong person, she tried again.

“Mickey, right? Can you tell me where I can get some clothes so I can go downstairs?” Nothing. Not a blink, not a twitch. Nothing. “Look, I just want to go downstairs to the lineup. I am guessing there is a lineup?”

Of course there was a lineup—at least there had been at her brother’s houses. She might be a teacher but she spent more than her fair share of time helping her brother run things, just never in open sight. She was the advisor no one ever saw, never knew about. In the community she was a paragon. It led for a boring public life, but she had been content. The important thing was, she learned enough to blend, and right now she really needed to do that. That meant getting her ass somewhere so she was just one of the herd.

“Look, I just want to start work.” Okay, now she was frustrated. The mountain just would not move, wouldn’t speak, just stared at her, and the chick in the corner had somehow worked her hands free. Not that Mickey here was aware of it. Nope, he was too busy looking at Shay like she had four breasts. Fascinated, not repelled, but not really sure if he should be.

One thing Shay knew good and damn well was this man wasn’t stupid. Nor was he mute. He chose not to talk, and there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him. She knew that because her brother had a mountain just like him—D’Andre. Had D’Andre been with her brother that night…

Nope. Make money, make a plan, then get the fuck out—that was all she needed to be concentrating on right now. But this Mickey guy wasn’t talking, and the crazy-eyed chick was just about to rush out the door after getting herself completely free. Out of the corner of her eye Shay could see the woman’s bloody wrists, caught the slight movement of her balancing herself on the balls of her feet while sitting, ready to spring. There was a clear path to the door if no one moved. Crazy lady’s eyes were glued to Mickey Mountain, having completely dismissed Shay.

Now this was the kind of shit Shay just didn’t need right about now. She could ignore it, let whoever she was escape, because really it was none of her business. However, a pissed-off O’Shea could spell trouble, and she needed to make Mickey Mountain her friend, so giving him a little assist couldn’t hurt.

She hoped.

***

The blaring phone made Shannon jump up, grabbing and answering before he could check the caller ID. Not good. The very last person he ever wanted to speak to was on the other line.

“What’s this I hear about you replacing girls? And sales at the pharmacy have gone down. I got guys complainin’ about not being able to buy guns without going through some kind of bullshit question-and-answer session. We ain’t the feds, boyo! Is this is how you run shit? Maybe you ain’t ready. Never thought your pansy ass was—”

Shannon dropped the phone onto the mattress. Once upon a time his so-called father’s tirade would’ve pissed him off, but not today. Grabbing the water on the nightstand he took a deep swig, stretching his sore muscles. Fuck, he felt like he had gone through fifteen rounds…

There was water beside his bed. Cold water. Staring at the nightstand he noted the few items that had been strewn across the surface were all neatly placed in a row. There was a rolled blunt in the ashtray. While the bed was a mess, everything else was all nice and neat. Someone had recently taken a shower too; the air had that misty freshness.

Shay.

Shannon was out of bed in a flash, leaving the phone right where it was as he stomped out of the room. Damn good thing he didn’t have to do more than pull up his jeans as he stormed down the stairs. She fucking better not have left. Shouldn’t have left the bed. He was almost to the office, where he’d left her dress last night, when he heard her voice.

“Look, I just want to start work.”

That pissed him off. There was no way in hell he was allowing her to lie under any man besides himself. He was about to charge in and drag her back to bed, but then he heard Mickey.

“Mr. O’Shea wouldn’t want you downstairs without him.”

Goddamn right! But how the hell did Mickey know that? Shannon eased to the edge of the door, daring a peek inside the room. Shay was there in his Patriots jersey, looking like she needed to be fucked some more until she learned not to leave his fucking bed. Mickey was looking down at her like he was scared, and Magda…

Magda chose that moment to bolt from the chair to the door. Tried for the door, anyway. Before either he or Mickey could move, Shay did a roundhouse, her foot connecting with the side of Magda’s head, knocking the woman clean out.

Who. The. Fuck. Was. This. Woman?

“Thank you.” Shannon witnessed something he’d never thought he’d see in a million years. Mickey actually reached out and patted Shay on the shoulder like they were old friends. Mickey never touched anyone voluntarily unless he was doing his job. But the next words out of the mouth of the man Shannon thought he knew floored him. “I’d hug you, but Mr. O’Shea wouldn’t like that. Please go back upstairs while I deal with her?”

Shannon eased back away from the door. He already knew Mickey was referring to Magda. But how the hell did he know Shannon wouldn’t like him hugging Shay? He wouldn’t, but that was beside the point.

“I don’t think Mr. O’Shea would mind you or anyone else hugging me,” he heard Shay reply. There was deep exasperation in her voice, which he really couldn’t blame her for. It wasn’t as if they discussed what her position would be last night. Mostly because Shannon had no idea. “I just really want to get to work.”

“You’re in a hurry to be a whore?” Mickey asked her.

This was the most Shannon had heard Mickey say in over a month. And here he was just volunteering words to a woman whom they both just laid eyes on last night. This entire conversation the two of them were having bothered the ever-living shit out of him, but he couldn’t put his fingers on why. All he knew was he didn’t want Mickey talking to Shay; he didn’t want Shay…
fuuuuuck
, he didn’t want anyone talking to, looking at or even knowing about Shay. By all rights he should barge in there and stop this, but he really wanted to know her answer to that last question.

“I’m in a hurry to make enough money to never have to be anyone’s whore ever again.”

That was a damn good answer.

But it only deepened her mystery. The sooner he found out who she was the better. But in the meantime, the only bed she’d be sharing was his.