Illicit Temptation (Astoria Royals #3)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Shea

I wake up Sunday morning and instead of reaching for my phone the second my eyes open, I reach for my toy. A long, thick veiny dildo. I don’t trust vibrators, either the batteries die at the worst time, or they just start going off, risking someone finding them.

Not that finding this beautiful piece of latex would have someone thinking less of me.

My grogginess melts into blinding pleasure thinking of Trace.

That smoldering man has kicked up my hormones, keeping me on edge all week. I’m practically feral. “God, I don’t even need you.” I put the dildo aside and stroke my drenched folds.

Frustrated, I scream into my pillow, but stop suddenly. Trace is across the hall and will hear me. Break down my door, shoot up my nice bedroom, and ask questions after.

I bolt up, push the covers away, and stare at my door, realizing it’s not locked. He can... He can step in here at any time.

I catch my reflection in the mirror, nipples raging under my ribbed tank top.

No wait. This is Trace’s ribbed tank top. I never gave it back to him yesterday. And he didn’t ask for it.

Frig my life, if that man finds out I slept in it, he’ll... God, what will he do to me?

A rush swells between my legs again and my nipples pucker even tighter under the loose cotton fabric. Tucked into the pencil skirt and behind a fitted suit jacket, it didn’t swim on me yesterday.

Now that it’s loose, it doesn’t do anything to restrain my breasts or shield the outline of my large, dark areolas .

I need to go for a run and get my mind off sex. Winter weather be damned. The fresh cold air in my lungs will invigorate me and calm me down. If not, I’ll take a cold shower.

In my walk-in closet, I grab a jogging bra, but stop and wonder if Trace will even let me go. I get dressed, itching for a fight to level set with him that I won’t be controlled. There’s no active threat against me. It’s just my overbearing brothers being thick-headed.

Unless... A shudder goes through me. Am I in danger and they’re not telling me? I can see Lachlan keeping me in the dark. Two years ago, my brothers were brutal alphas thinking of nothing but the next kill or the next whore to fuck. Now they’re unhinged over their wives and kids. Somewhere that included Auntie Shea in their obsessive protective methods.

They gave me an attack dog like Trace Quinlan and let easy-going Soren off my detail. I don’t need a ruffian nipping at my heels when I’m trying to run.

Dressed in warm leggings, a T-shirt, and a thermal jacket, I grab all the keys to the bedroom doors from a drawer in my closet. I find the one labeled Guest 1. The bedroom Trace settled into.

With the key in my palm and my heart racing, I peek outside and find the hallway quiet and empty.

No sounds come from behind his closed door. Before I lose my chance and my nerve, I use the key to lock the door, keeping him inside. The thick carpet cushioning my feet, I scamper back to my closet to put the keys away feeling victorious.

O’Rourke 1

Quinlan 0