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  “Good Christ. You’re so damn hot, and I’m so damn hard.” I gritted it against her lips, dry humping her with heavy demand. “Claire, if I don’t— Fuck!”

  The loud groan fell out of me as she somehow found her way to my fly, wrenching open the fabric and then yanking down my briefs. My cock and balls spilled into her needy grasp, swelling instantly against her hold. I repeated the oath as she guided me to her core, not flinching when I reached down and broke her panties away with the resolve of Conan on a rampage.

  Without another word, I plunged into her. With a beautiful scream, she welcomed me. Bracing my thighs against the table’s edge, I sheathed my cock over and over again in the hot grip of her beautiful sex, locking her stare to mine by framing her head in my hands. The sighs on her lips became songs in my heart. The need on her face was a prayer in my soul. At the same time, my mind couldn’t piece together what the hell was happening. Though I took her with primal violence, my senses couldn’t cherish her with enough reverence. I never wanted this moment to end, while every logical thought I still had rendered me a ball of bellowing terror.

  It wasn’t too long before her lips parted on a needy croak. “Oh, God. Teacher needs to come.”

  I smiled and tenderly kissed her. “Then let’s make sure I score an A plus.”

  She swallowed as I began rolling my hips, hitting her clit with the pressure she liked. At the same time, I drove my shaft in at a new angle, estimating that if I was lucky, that special spot in her core would be stimulated as well.

  “Killian!” she cried. “Ohhhh, Killian.”

  I bit at her chin, her jaw, her lips. “You’re such a good student too, Miss Montgomery. You know what that does to me…hearing you call for me like that.”

  “Yes,” she rasped. “Ohhhh, yes.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Killian.” She sighed.

  “Now beg me with it.”

  “Please, Killian.” She shuddered.

  “Now tell me you’re coming with it.”

  “I am. Oh, hell. I’m coming, Killian. I’m coming for you!”

  She shattered.

  In the next moment, I splintered apart with her. My ass squeezed, my sac constricted, and my cock filled with a thousand shards of perfect, blinding release. I pumped her body full of my essence, wishing we could do it again before all my seed was gone…already hating myself for having to leave her sweet body. Loathing the pretense of a life that awaited my return.

  After waiting for both our pulses to approach normal again, I dragged myself out of her, reaching for a nearby box of tissues to help us both clean up. Though Claire let out an adorable whine with my departure, she righted herself faster than I could get myself back together, scooting off the table with brisk efficiency.

  Her demeanor was unnerving.

  I scowled. It felt fucking criminal to shove aside our intimacy that fast. “Come here.” I pulled her back into my arms, cradling her head with a hand. “I don’t want to let you go yet.”

  She softened against me. But only for a moment. “Regrettably, letting go is our story.”

  I drew in a careful breath. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

  Claire slanted a wry smirk. “Yes, Killian. It has to be.”

  The limb of my instinct stretched larger and longer in front of me. I embraced the temptation and crawled out onto it. “What the hell are you so afraid of, baby?”

  “And what the hell are you talking about?”

  “It’s Margaux, isn’t it?” Though her averted gaze confirmed the words, making my follow-up a moot point, I pressed, “What’s she holding over you, Claire? Tell me so I can help, damn it.”

  She pushed away. “It doesn’t have a thing to do with Margaux, okay?” She folded her arms, her fingers forming claws around her elbows. “Not anymore.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  I glowered. “Nothing?”

  “This isn’t the time to be talking about this. I still have to brief you on the demographics, and everyone’s waiting for us—”

  I made her stop by confiscating the computer cord from her hand. In another decisive move, I pulled up her chin with my free hand. “All right. Now’s not the time. But it will be time soon, fairy. I’ll make it happen if you don’t. Are we clear?”

  She exhaled hard through her nose. “Fine. Yes. We’re clear. Can we go now?”

  I called down to Walter with instructions to have my car brought to the private valet in the building’s basement. I hated subjecting Claire to my roundabout departure, but until the next wayward starlet or reality star became the media’s newest distraction, this was my life.

  I reluctantly released her hand as soon as we entered the elevator. Though the building’s security camera feeds had been safe so far, any minute could bring a breach, as we’d warned all the SGC employees of, even before Treygate. Thank fuck the conference room was one of the camera-free sanctums in the building.

  As we left the lift, a familiar engine purr made me smile a little. Until this moment, I’d never known the paradise of a great orgasm followed by the anticipation of a luxury car drive. Thanks to the sated woman by my side and the high-performance lady in the driveway, I hoped this wouldn’t be the first checkmark on my experience list for this one.

  “Ho-ly shit.” Claire wrenched at my hand, pulling the syllables apart from each other in apparent shock.

  “What?” I queried. “You all right? Did you leave something upstairs?”

  She shook her head and stared harder at the car. “That’s not the town car.”

  I didn’t restrain the cockiness from my grin. Twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes of nearly every day, the money in my bank account was often more a burden than a celebration. Right now, I selfishly seized every moment from my daily allotment of fun. “Hmmm. You’re right. It’s not.”

  “That’s a twenty-twelve Aston Martin Vantage with custom rims.”

  I stopped to let her see my wider grin. “You’re exactly right.”

  “And you’re surprised.”

  “Yeah. But mostly turned on.” I lifted wolfish eyebrows at her. “You can show me your Hot Wheels side anytime, San Diego.”

  She flushed and laughed. Goddamn, I loved doing that to her. “Well…she’s beautiful.”

  “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You clearly haven’t seen me in the morning.”

  “Then maybe I should.” Our gazes met over the door I’d just pulled open for her. In the dancing amber depths of her irises was all the same curious passion that had drawn me in from the day we met—only now that magic was focused on me. “Maybe just for comparison purposes,” I drawled. “So that I can roll over, pull you close, and again tell you that Damrys has nothing on you.”

  After I climbed behind the wheel and gunned Damrys from the garage, I expected the requisite eye roll and inquisition as to the sanity of naming my car. As always, Claire stunned me by simply stating, “So…Damrys. That’s an interesting name.”

  I focused on the highway as we sped out to Highland Park. “You’re right. It is.”

  “Do I get to know who she was?”

  My mother.

  The woman who couldn’t bear watching me being raised by another and chose to leave my life instead.

  I clenched my jaw along with the steering wheel to hold back from uttering it.

  “She’s dead now, baby. It doesn’t matter.”

  Traffic was good to us, so we pulled up to the Italianate gates of Keystone in no time. Fate was in a generous mood—I received a bonus five minutes of fun watching Claire unroll her window to stare at the grounds as we passed the tennis courts, waterfalls, duck pond, jogging trail, pool, amphitheater, and the miniature forest that had been my childhood playground. When I finally drove beneath the lighted archway and parked in the tiled inner courtyard, I ended up having to lean over and push her mouth closed with two fingers. Surprisingly, she didn’
t retaliate with a single glare, good-natured or not.

  “Are we in Rome?” she finally asked in an awed rasp.

  I darted a fast glance around. The only eyes watching us belonged to Trixie, one of the kitchen cats, who lolled atop a decorative copper pumpkin outside the door to her home, currently cracked open a bit and bursting with the smell of fresh-baked soda bread.

  With decisive speed, I pulled on Claire’s nape and planted a hard, thorough kiss on her lips. “Welcome to Keystone. I’m glad you like it so far.”

  She gave me a soft smile. “You grew up here, Killian. Of course I like it.”

  With a goofball grin on my face now, I fought back the temptation to lead her toward the kitchen instead of the front door. I waved her up the graceful stone steps ahead of me, thankful that chivalry earned me an ideal ass and hips view. If I couldn’t touch, I could sure as hell ogle.

  “Mr. Killian. A very good evening to you.”

  “Hey there, William.” As usual, I had to grab the butler’s hand from behind his back to shake it. I couldn’t stand the bow-and-scrape shit, even if I wasn’t a resident here anymore. “How are you doing? How’s the tennis elbow?”

  “It’s much better this week, Mr. Killian. My thanks for your concern.”

  Claire finally tilted a questioning smirk. “Mr. Killian?”

  I shrugged. “Counting Grandfather Lawrence, there can be as many as five Mr. Stones in this place at one time. It’s a necessity. For a few years, I tried for a simple Killian, but no dice.”

  “Mr. Stone values tradition.” William’s chiding subtext wasn’t lost on Claire, who let the dimples deepen in her cheeks.

  I sent a mock glower at the man. “That works for Scotch selection, Will, but not a world where people are known by their hashtags.”

  William’s eyebrows rose to give me his silent censure once more. I grinned back, relishing our usual banter. “So what, may I ask, is the hashtag for your friend?” he queried, smiling down at Claire. When he angled his gaze back at me, I watched one edge of his mouth lift, already reading the thoughts I had to sequester to silence.

  How about hashtag-goddess? Hashtag-fairy-fantasy-queen? Hashtag-my obsession?

  “This is Miss Claire Montgomery. She’s a member of the team helping Trey out of his mire, though she stayed a little longer at the office at my request. I needed some data from the day explained.”

  Though William’s nod was as urbane as always, his gray eyes studied Claire with all-seeing interest. “It’s truly a pleasure, Miss Montgomery. If only Mr. Josiah and Mrs. Willa were here to make your acquaintance as well. Alas, they’re in Paris for another ten days, at least. Perhaps another time?” His pointed tone told me the question wasn’t intended for Claire at all.

  “Another time, indeed,” I answered, overcome by an odd nervousness. The idea of bringing Claire here for the express purpose of passing my parents’ inspection… It struck me as all wrong and fucking disgusting. I should have known fate would find a way to get even for the bonus feel-good minutes. “Will, I’ve made Cla— Miss Montgomery late for her duties with the team. Are they in the upstairs or downstairs study?”

  “Upstairs, Mr. Killian. I’d be most happy to show her there, since I believe a certain someone in the kitchen has been preparing for your visit.”

  “Yesssss.”

  After ensuring a plate of dinner would be prepared and taken to Claire, I hurried toward the kitchen. Though my stomach growled, my heart was just as overjoyed to behold the woman at the chopping block, humming her favorite Prince tune while slicing up the fresh soda bread. I slipped up behind her, lifted the gray-tinged mahogany hair off her face, and snaked a kiss onto her lightly lined cheek. She squealed and jumped.

  “Lord love a duck! Killian Stone, you scared all nine lives out of your Kitty!”

  My answering grin actually hurt my face. “Awww, come on. You baked that sin on a slab knowing I’d be slinking in here eventually.”

  “Slinking? Pssshhh. I expected you to come in asking for some with some manners to ya, not sneaking in like some pervert down the back stairs.”

  “You like perverts on your back stairs.” I leaned over and grabbed a whole slab of the bread, taking a huge bite before she could prevent the swipe.

  “I’ve got a knife in my hand, boy.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Her blue eyes spread wide. “My word. You’re in quite a state tonight.”

  I took advantage of her shock to sneak another piece of bread. “Nah. Last time I checked, I was still in Illinois.”

  The door across the kitchen opened. My chest filled with more happiness when another familiar face filled the opening. The man’s rugged jaw was ruddy from the chilly night, his eyes a little tired. Like Kitty, gray had started to edge his hair but was more noticeable due to the fact that he simply had more of it. “Well, well,” he murmured with a smile. “Look what the soda bread dragged through the door.” He grunted as I hauled him into a hard hug. Returning the ferocity of the embrace, he added, “Good to see you, Kil.”

  “That’s our Banyan.” Kitty added a snort to her deliberate use of the man’s nickname, a direct reference to the man’s lanky limbs and thick ponytail. “King of downplay, as usual.”

  The man sighed. “Now, Kit—”

  “He’s been concerned, Killian. Not that I blame him. Good Lord and all the saints, what you’ve had to deal with since February…”

  “I haven’t been battling the dragons alone,” I interjected.

  “Hmmpphh,” Kit countered. “You mean that team from California? The land of the fruits and nuts?”

  “Kit. God’s toes!”

  “Don’t be bringing the holy pedicure into this, Ban. How much good are those people really doing if Trey got free long enough to take a bath with a Bengal tiger?”

  “And Trey, a thirty-one-year-old man, wasn’t one bit responsible for the foolishness?”

  I waited, expecting Kit to rattle off another memorable one-liner. When she didn’t, I decided to jump off a damn cliff and fill the air with something really interesting.

  “They’re doing more good than you may think, Kit.”

  Both of them straightened. They weren’t stupid people, nor were they strangers to me. Hell, they were both the opposite. And since they both knew me better than I knew myself, their ensuing stares didn’t surprise me. I just didn’t count on the experience being so unnerving. I was used to dishing out this kind of scrutiny, not taking it.

  “Kil?” asked Ban. “What’re you saying, boy?”

  Kit slammed her knife down with a loud whump. “Oh, are you that addled?” She swung her head toward me, a grin suddenly blooming across it. “What he means is, what’s her name, boy? And while you’re at it, just tell us everything else about her.”

  Ban shook his head. A contemplative smile twitched at his lips, too. “I don’t think he has that much time, dear.” He tilted his head and intensified his stare. “Do you, Kil?”

  I couldn’t help letting my lips lift as well. Fuck, it felt so good to simply confess this to someone. “No,” I admitted, “I don’t. But I can tell you that her name is Claire.”

  Kit’s shoulders perked a little higher. “Ooohhh, that’s a good start. What a beautiful…Irish…name.”

  I chuckled before adding, “How about adding Montgomery to it?”

  “How about I thank the saints and faint dead away now?”

  While I laughed, Ban scooted around the block, solemn intention on his angular face. “I don’t care if she’s half Swahili and half Martian.” He stopped directly in front of me. “Do you care about her truly, Kil? In the depths of your heart?”

  For a long moment, I remained immobile. I hadn’t come in here planning to spill my damn guts about all this, especially since secrecy could damn near be the theme song for everything I had so far with Claire. Having to tamp down how I felt for her through so much of the day left me stuttering in the face of the question in its barefaced honesty.

/>   What did I really feel for her? And now that I had permission to answer the question for the only two people in my life who didn’t care if the name on my birth certificate read Stone or Smith, was I ready to admit the truth? Could I handle it?

  With a twist of my own head, I looked back to Ban. “Right before we left the office to come here, Claire and I had a little tiff,” I told him. “When I asked her to clarify a point for me, she answered me with ‘nothing.’”

  The wrinkles at the corners of his mouth twitched. “And what’d you do?”

  “The same.” I scowled. “Nothing.”

  “Excuse me?” Kit gawked like I’d confessed to having Claire’s name tattooed on my penis.

  “And the thing is, it’s still bugging the shit out of me.” I glanced up at Ban, feeling a hundred kinds of stupid and a thousand kinds of clueless. “What the hell does that mean, ‘nothing’?”

  The man scooped me into another warm embrace. “Congratulations, boy. That means you’ve got it bad.”

  I kept my eyes closed even when he pulled away, holding his scent in my senses just a couple of seconds longer. Soda bread. Smoke. Old Spice. Home. “I’m not sure I should thank you for that.”

  “Because it scares the hell out of you?”

  “Yeah.”

  The man’s face creased in a full laugh. “That’s a good sign, Kil. A damn good sign.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Claire

  As my computer booted up on the conference table, I checked my watch and smirked. If Killian was on his normal morning schedule, he’d be finding what I’d left on his desk right about now. I’d sneaked into his office this morning under the guise of leaving reports needing his immediate attention. What I’d dropped off instead was a shiny red apple, a wooden ruler—and the hope that he’d see the humor in my gesture.