Page 51 of Bound Lies

I want to believe that he’s lying, but after spending the night with Kieran, I don’t know the real him at all.

After I’ve washed off the lingering feeling of Kieran’s hands on my body, I crawl into bed and pull the blanket up to my chin. But the moment I close my eyes, Kieran’s mouth is once again on mine, and my eyes fly open again as I try to catch my breath.

We kissed, and then he walked away like it was just another inconvenience to be dealt with.

Tears prick behind my eyes, but I blink them away.

I have no right to be upset, considering I was the one to break the kiss. But the hollow ache in my chest won’t go away because, deep down, I know the truth.

If I give him a single inch of my heart, Kieran Sullivan will break it without hesitation, and I can’t afford to cross that line with him, no matter how much I want to.

Chapter Twelve

KIERAN

It’s four-thirty in the goddamn morning, and I’m still staring at the red numbers on my alarm clock.

I shut my eyes and try to force myself to sleep, but no matter how hard I try, the image of Riley’s swollen lips is seared into my mind.

She tasted of chocolate from the dessert she chose, and the smell of her perfume still lingers around me. And fuck, I couldn’t get enough.

But the look on her face after she pulled away… It was like she realized she had just made the biggest mistake of her life. Hell, maybe she did, but I can’t bring myself to regret kissing her back.

I had been trying not to all damn night, so to finally get my hands on her felt like a reward for being so restrained.

Riley might have thought my bad mood was down to not being able to stand being in her presence, and while that is partly true, it’s not for the reasons she thinks. It’s because that fucking dress had me permanently hard and seconds away from throwing her over my shoulder and marching her back to the car so I could bring her home to my bed.

I try to close my eyes again, but then she’s there, pressed up against me wearing nothing but a scrap of silk that would have been so easy to tear off.

The way the material clung to her every curve, it was like it was stitched directly onto her skin.

I bite back a groan as my cock twitches, and I angrily reach down and tug hard on it, but it does little to ease the ache. The only thing that would is sinking my cock into that perfect little mouth…

Cursing, I shove the covers off of me and swing my legs over the edge of the bed.

I’m rock hard, and the only thing that can help relieve this tension other than pumping one out is to get my ass in the gym, which is exactly what I do because I can’t afford to be thinking about Riley Walsh as anything other than the weapon we use to take down Sean O’Keefe.

By six A.M., I’m in the kitchen, covered in sweat, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts as I wait for the coffee beans to finish grinding.

There’s no sign of Riley, and I don’t expect there to be one for a while. I know she enjoyed that kiss just as much as I did, and that terrified her.

I could see the fear in her eyes as she realized what she had done, and I don’t think falling for a Sullivan was part of her plan.

After throwing back a triple espresso, I head back upstairs to take a cold shower and get dressed for the day.

I have no intention of being here when Riley does inevitably leave her room, so the second I’m ready, I head out the door, hoping that if I avoid her for long enough, maybe I can finally stop thinking about her.

The Blackthorn isn’t technically open to the public yet, but the owners are on our books, so they let me in without hesitation.

I settle down in a corner booth with a pile of paperwork and my laptop, ready to put my head down and grind for the next few hours. I know Ronan wouldn’t mind if I chose to occupy one of the conference rooms at Sullivan Investments, but I can’t bear to step foot inside that building if I can help it. I don’t need any more reminders of the fact that Ronan is in charge and I’m not.

Hudson, the head bartender at The Blackthorn, sets down a black coffee in front of me without saying a word, which I appreciate.

I might be a morning person when it comes to work, but not when it comes to conversation.

“Sullivan!”

Though, it seems someone else didn’t get the memo.