HALLIE

C onan helps me out of the driver’s seat, towering over me beneath a streetlamp.

“You good?” he asks.

What the hell are we doing? But adrenaline’s already in my bloodstream, hot and alive. I love Conan’s plan. Mine would’ve been dumping Ben over text and sending him his own live sex tape.

But this? This makes me feel powerful.

Conan’s right. Fuck Ben. For humiliating me. For playing me. For screwing some cheap ho on my couch. That’s my home. My sanctuary.

And with a guy like Conan? Ben’s going to wish he never met me.

“I’m good.”

Goosebumps scatter across my skin as Conan presses his palm against my lower back and guides me down the street.

“Left or right?” he asks as we approach the end of the road.

“Second on the right.”

I inhale deeply as we reach the stairs. Are they still fucking?

I glance back at Conan. He holds a finger to his lips and follows me silently up the steps. I slip the key in and turn it without a sound. As soon as the door clicks open, his hands grip my hips, spinning me around to face him.

I gasp, our noses brushing. I can’t fucking breathe. All I hear is the blood pounding in my ears, everything else fading—even the stars.

All I can see are those green eyes.

“Kiss me, trouble.”

I loop my arms around his neck and drag him down. My mouth crashes against his.

His tongue slips in, brushing mine, slow and deliberate. Holy shit. I feel everything I’ve been missing.

Pure, raw electricity. His hand slides up my side, wrapping around my throat as he deepens the kiss.

I moan into his mouth and jerk back. No. This isn’t real.

Except... it is. No kiss has ever felt like this. Not even close.

My lips are swollen. My face flushed. That didn’t feel fake. Not even a little.

“What happened to our ‘performance’? He can’t see us here,” I whisper.

Conan’s hands frame my face, warm and wide. “That, darlin’, was our practice kiss. Just for us.”

I’m supposed to hate the male species. But Conan? He’s doing a damn good job redeeming the entire population. He’s sweet. Dangerous. And so fucking hot I can’t think straight.

“Let’s do this?”

A slow smile creeps across my lips. Despite everything—being humiliated and fucked over—what I feel right now is power. And… yeah. I’m turned the hell on.

“Careful with your leg. But come on, beastie. Let’s go.”

A growl rumbles in his chest as he scoops me into his arms. “Revenge is beautiful,” he whispers against my lips.

As planned, I wrap my legs around his waist, arms tight around his neck, and he kisses me. Ferociously. Like he needs me to survive.

We move down the hallway, fumbling with the living room door. Our mouths never part.

“Fuck, Hallie. I need to be inside you.” His deep Irish accent drenches my panties.

My eyes fly open—he winks, bites my bottom lip, then crashes his mouth back to mine.

I moan. Loud. Grinding against him, completely lost.

And it’s not fake. Not even close.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him deeper just as he pins me to the wall.

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

“Hallie! What the fuck?!”

Ben’s voice rips through the air.

Conan grins against my lips. “Showtime, trouble.”

My pulse spikes. Rage simmers beneath my skin.

“Don’t let go of me.”

He holds tight. Steady. And over his shoulder, I come face-to-face with Ben, flushed, naked, holding my fucking cushion over his limp dick.

“Get the fuck out of my house,” I seethe.

Ben shakes his head, hand dragging through his black hair.

Bertie barrels in from the kitchen, barking, teeth bared.

“It’s okay, boy,” I say softly, and he plants himself at my side, solid and loyal.

“You’re cheating on me?” Ben’s voice cracks.

I choke on a laugh.

“Are you fucking serious? You just pulled your cock out of her ten seconds ago.” I point to the blonde, who’s now cupping her tits like it’ll save her from the shame of being caught.

“Get out. Both of you. And I’ll send you an invoice for a new couch, you sick bastard.”

Conan squeezes my ass. I jolt in his arms.

“Can I?” he murmurs.

I have no clue what he means, but I nod.

He sets me down, steps forward, and scoops up the pile of clothes draped over the couch.

Ben’s face drains of color.

“Fuck off,” Conan growls, pointing to the door.

Ben steps toward us, puffed up like he might actually try something.

Conan laughs menacingly.

“Buddy, I’ve seen enough of your little dick and pale ass to last me a lifetime. Either run for the door, or I’ll throw you through the window. Your choice.”

The girl bolts, grabbing her dress from the floor, nearly faceplanting into the table on her way out.

What a shitshow.

“Are you having a hard time hearing?” Conan starts moving toward him.

Ben glares at me, eyes wild. “You brought this fucking brute to beat me up?”

I shrug, face blank. “I brought him back to finally get an orgasm, Ben. It’s been years.”

Ben’s nostril flares. Conan chuckles darkly behind me.

“Leave,” I say, voice cold. “I don’t want to touch you. I don’t want to look at you. We are over.”

Fuck. That felt so good. Like a weight has been lifted. That’s all Ben is to me, a dead weight.

“Hallie. I can explain.”

Oh, this will be good.

I stomp over to Conan, who slips a thick arm around my waist.

“Please, Ben. Explain yourself. Tell me how you accidentally brought a girl into my dead father’s house and, poof, you both ended up naked and your dick ended up inside her.”

Ben shakes his head.

“I didn’t fuck her, Hallie.”

“Still lying.” I drag a hand down my face.

“Look behind you, dumbass, and wave to the camera.” I point to it, mounted beside the flatscreen.

His mouth drops open. His face drains of all color.

“I never want to see you again. We’re so fucking done. Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Hallie. Baby. We can work through this. I just needed a fuck; that’s all it was. You won’t put out, and a man has needs?—”

Conan scoffs.

“Use your fucking hand, then,” I snap.

“I’ll make this right. One more chance?—”

I shake my head, disgust curling in my gut.

“No. I didn’t want to fuck you before, and I sure as hell never want to again. Now, for the last time. Out. I’ve got needs of my own to take care of.”

I look up at Conan and bat my lashes. He turns, eyes dark.

“You naughty, naughty girl,” he whispers.

He’s playing the part like a pro.

Ben scuttles past us but pauses at the door. I roll my eyes.

“I wouldn’t waste your time with her,” he mutters, voice bitter. “Boring as hell in bed. All she does is work and nap. Or cry about her dead dad.”

Conan stiffens. His hand drops from me.

And just like that, he shifts. The air cracks.

The fury in his eyes? It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. His beast is unleashed.