Page 28 of Bittersweet Revenge (Sins of the Father #1)

Tiernan

M y ass is sorer than I let on. I’ve never let someone fuck me before, and honestly, I hadn’t known how much I would want it until tonight. Even more than that, I needed it—maybe not the act on its own, but with Dean.

I don’t understand this fierce connection I have to him.

The only way I know how to explain it is to compare it to how I feel about Cillian and Rory, but I’ve never wanted to fuck either of them.

I’ve never wanted to possess them. It’s a trip, and I don’t know what to think about it.

All I do know is that somehow, for whatever the fuck reason, I needed Dean tonight.

He gave me something no one else would have been able to.

I lean over, blocking the code for the drawer as I open it. Once I have my gun tucked away in the lockbox—something I never should have let him touch—I grab my box of weed.

We don’t speak as we sit here, naked, backs against the headboard, and I roll a joint.

Dean breaks the silence first. “I’m sorry I did that without a condom. I wasn’t thinking. I just…needed inside you. I haven’t been with a lot of people. I’ve never gone raw before, and I should be negative.”

I shrug. How can I get upset with him when I told him to keep going? When I practically fucking begged for his load? “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever apologized to me.”

“I’m being serious.”

I cock a brow. “And you think I’m not?”

“I’m trying here, Tiernan.”

“Well, don’t. I like you better when you’re an asshole.”

Really, I like him all the time, every version of him, more than I’ve ever liked anyone in my entire life. Which means I’ll probably lose him. My father will never let me keep him, so I must make sure he doesn’t learn about Dean for as long as I can. People who are happy are harder to control.

When he doesn’t answer, and I can see an unfamiliar softness in his gaze, I say, “Jesus. It’s fucking fine. I told you to do it. I’m negative too, but we’ll get checked to make sure. I sure as shit want to fill you with my cum now too.”

Now that we’re not fucking, now that I’m not distracted with his mouth, hands, and dick, the edge of tonight is creeping in on me again. How is Aislin feeling? Does she hate me? Should I have not allowed her to go?

I finish rolling the blunt, then drop my head against the wooden board and close my eyes.

“I shouldn’t have let Ash go.” Just like I shouldn’t be talking to Dean about this right now.

Why do I trust him so fucking much? But it’s not like he doesn’t already know what went down.

He wanted to be there, and he’s still in my bed now.

“She would have kicked your ass if you tried to make her stay.”

I smile. He’s so fucking right. They know each other well already.

“Yeah, and I don’t ever want to treat her like my father does…

the way he treats my mom too.” Like props, like pawns in his little game.

Like they’re nothing without him—none of us are, but sometimes he treats them like they aren’t even people.

The room is silent around me. I hear Dean breathing, but it’s ragged, so I open my eyes to look at him, see the tightness in his jaw, the way it pulses, and the way his gaze is suddenly closed off. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re pissed. What did I just say?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just don’t like men who don’t treat women the way they deserve to be treated.”

I give a humorless laugh. “Then you’d hate my father.” I hate him too.

“I want to help you,” he changes the subject.

Are we back on this again? I don’t want to talk about tonight. “Nothing to help with.” I pluck the lighter from my box.

“I hacked his bank account.”

“Jesus, Dean.” I run my free hand through my hair. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble.” I made him stay with Cillian to keep him safe from that.

“No one can track me. I’m fucking good. I’ve lived in a goddamned computer or a book my whole life. I know what I’m doing. I’ve always been a natural. My brain just fucking works that way, but that’s not the point. I can transfer a hefty amount. Make it look like he just wanted to disappear.”

“He did,” I lie. “We had nothing to do with it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, yeah, okay. But I need to do this. I need to pull my weight. I’ve never had this.” He waves his hands in the air. “I’ve spent my life alone, and now I’m here with you assholes, which I have to admit is torture, but I still need to contribute.”

I chuckle. “Torture my ass. You fucking love it.”

“I’m being serious, Tiernan.”

It’s the second time he’s used my name tonight, and I like the sound of it on his tongue. “You don’t call me by my name very often.”

He frowns, his forehead bunching together in thought, like he’s just realized he’s using my name and doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“Say it again.”

The ornery look on his face says he wants to do anything but, that he wants to hold back just because I told him to say it, but then he opens his mouth and says, “Tiernan.”

My chest feels strangely bubbly. It’s good but scary and confusing at the same time.

“You won’t get caught?”

“I won’t sell you out.”

“I’m not worried about that.” I should be, but everything with him just feels right, something inside me telling me I can trust him.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I won’t get caught.”

“Fine. Do it.” I shift, hoping I’m not making a mistake.

“I can discreetly get the money to you. I just—”

“It’s yours.”

“It’s a lot of fucking money.”

But I don’t need it, and despite Dean not talking about it, I have a feeling he could use it. He sure as shit isn’t going to want charity from me, though. “When people work for me, they get compensation. You’re doing the work, you get the money.”

He watches me for a moment, then slowly nods. What’s going on in there?

As if my hand has a mind of its own, I reach out and dance my fingertips along his temple.

Dean’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away.

It surprises me when he leans in and takes my mouth.

It’s another one of those unfamiliar slow kisses, one where the point isn’t to lead to fucking or orgasms, just a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths.

Like we’re getting to know each other, savoring each second where our tongues tangle together, because real pleasure and comfort isn’t something either of us have had much in our lives, but it’s found us in these moments together.

When he pulls back, a growl slips past my lips, and Dean gives me one of his rare smiles. My heart thumps like a stampede of wild horses in response.

He takes the box with the weed off my lap, then straddles me. Now it’s Dean who takes out the lighter and the blunt, singeing the end with fire, before pulling smoke into his lungs. When he leans in, I automatically open my mouth, breathe in what he exhales, hold it in my lungs, then let it out.

“I thought this was my job,” I tell him.

“Not tonight.” He takes another hit, then ghosts his lips so fucking close to mine, giving me that one too.

This is…not me. I don’t understand it, but I don’t want to stop it either. I want to have it, hold on to it, savor it for as long as I can.

We smoke the whole joint this way, Dean taking some for himself, but mostly giving it to me. When he takes the box and sets it on the nightstand, then pulls me down so we’re lying side by side facing each other, I realize what this is.

Dean is trying to take care of me. That’s what he’s been doing all night.

I touch the bruise on his lip from Cillian. “Can you try to control your temper with Cillian and Rory at least? They’re like brothers to me, but though this time it’s your fault, if he touches you again, he’s going to have me to deal with.”

Dean gives me another of those confused looks, where his brows draw together and his forehead wrinkles. “He’s your family.”

“And you’re mine.”

Dean takes my mouth again. I’ve never kissed someone so much in my life. It’s always been something I did if I had to before fucking, but with him, I just enjoy tasting him and letting him taste me.

“Cillian is your cousin, I know that, but have you known Rory your entire life too?” he asks when he pulls away.

“Most of it. His father got close with mine when we were five. His mom couldn’t handle it…

how we live…so she killed herself when he was eight.

His dad was murdered when he was fifteen.

He’s family. We take care of each other.

” I can’t imagine what my life would be without Cillian and Rory.

“Cil’s mom died too—natural causes for her.

My uncle Rian is a good man. He loves Cillian, but he doesn’t know how to be close to him.

Cil looks a lot like his mom. I think Uncle Rian sees her when he looks at Cillian.

He loved her in a way my father never has with my mom. ”

“So it’s always been the three of you?”

“Yes. Others have come and gone. There was a boy I remember playing with when I was young. He used to love to draw and color.” We were fucking babies, but I remember him drawing me.

I don’t know what makes me think of him now.

Just the conversation and my mood tonight, I guess.

Others stuck around, but the bond between me, Cillian, and Rory is different.

“Did your parents love each other?” I ask.

“They’re dead.”

“Fuck. I’m an asshole.”

“Yes,” Dean replies. “I like you that way, though…and yes, they did. The only thing they loved more than each other was me.” He rolls to his back, and I can tell this conversation is too much for him, that they’re a painful memory for him to talk about.

“Distract me,” I tell him, and maybe I should have just distracted him, but I think this, Dean being here for me tonight, is something he needs too. If he thinks I’m trying to get him out of his head, he’ll pull away.

The thought of that makes me feel like I’m cracking apart, like everything important inside me is breaking.

This. Us. It’s something we both need.

“Okay,” he says. I expect him to roll on top of me, to kiss me and touch me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he picks up The Count , opens to where we left off, but this time, instead of reading silently together, Dean speaks every word out loud.

I nuzzle in close, feel his warm skin against mine, and let him read to me, until eventually the world goes black…and when I dream, it’s not of pulling triggers or the vile shit my father has made me do…it’s of him.