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STAR

I WANT IT ALL - CAMERON GRAY

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

UPSTATE, NEW YORK

“Fuck,” he rasped in my ear as I rode him.

His hands dug into my ass as he helped me maintain the pace which had started to falter as my orgasm approached.

“You going to come for me, Star?”

I whimpered.

“You are, aren’t you? I want to feel you come around my cock, my naughty girl.”

I shuddered.

“Give it to me,” he demanded, one of his hands sliding around to thumb my slit from behind.

“Oh, Christ,” I rasped, surprised by how good that extra pressure felt.

Jerking upright, I slapped my hands on his chest.

My head tipped back as I allowed the sensations to flood me, shutting out the world to focus on the here and the now.

The new position let me grind down on my clit, and each and every time, I got smacked in the face with just how damn good this felt.

That was when I?—

God .

Slightly cool.

Silicone.

My head flipped forward in response, but it was too late.

That goddamn toy was on my clit already.

My eyes closed in response as the vibrations sizzled through my system.

“God, your pussy clamps down around me so fucking beautifully when I tease you with this, baby. You like that, huh?”

“Too… much,” I croaked out, but I didn’t move away from the vibe, nor did I slap his hand aside.

Instead, I hovered there, just waiting, waiting. Enjoying. Suffering. Needing…

When he twisted us around so I was on my back, I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the words to argue.

I just lay there, feeling him start to thrust into me as the vibrator worked its magic.

My eyes popped open the first time he hit home.

“God, Conor, my… I… You?—”

“I know, naughty girl. It’s too good,” he teased, licking my earlobe before sucking on it.

I shivered at the move.

He pulled the vibrator away.

I glowered at him. “What are you doing?”

“If it’s too much then?—”

Huffing, I snagged the damn thing from his grasp and muttered, “You just go back to doing what you’re doing and leave this to me.”

“It’s enough to emasculate a man.”

I sniffed. “There’s no fun in using this alone. Now, get busy.”

Though he chuckled, he complied. I shuddered as he retreated then fucked hard into me.

The growl that escaped me was pure hunger.

Goddamn, that felt good.

I’d tried the toy without him there but it wasn’t as much fun as having him fill me. But with a face, a body, and a cock like Conor’s, why would it be better without him in the freakin’ room?

As he sped up, the vibrations worked their torturous magic and I came around him, clutching at his shaft, back arching, offering myself up to him on the altar of release.

When he tugged on one of my nipples, I released a hissed breath. “F-Fuck, Conor?—”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he grated out.

“I do. Christ, I do.” My feet moved higher on his body so I could dig my heels into his ass.

As he pumped faster into me, I could feel how close he was. Moving the vibrator so that it was rubbing against the side of his shaft, I wasn’t surprised when, barely a few seconds later, he was coming, his head tipped back, throat corded with the strain that came with orgasms.

Pulling the toy away, I switched it off and tossed it on the bed.

Only our heavy breathing dulled the silence of our room, then he collapsed on me and twisted us over again. When he tucked me inside the sheet, I didn’t bother moving.

“We have to get up soon.”

“Not yet,” he complained.

I peered at the clock on the nightstand. “In a half hour.”

He groaned. “Why was this a good idea again?”

“Because Troy wanted to throw Lyra a pool party for her birthday and she hasn’t made any friends in school apart from Kat yet. So, where better than here?”

Here was Aidan’s estate upstate.

“Plus, Savannah loves her.”

“I know. I listened to them talk about Enid Blyton last night. It was… disturbing.”

“Why was it?” I asked, amused.

“Because Lyra was talking and Savannah knew way too much about kids’ books.”

I snorted but said, “I’m glad Liam made it.”

“I’m surprised. Didn’t think he would. He’s still pissed about the trade.”

“Not sure how he can be pissed when his new team outplays the old team. Men are so irrational.”

“I hope you’re not including me in that.”

“You’re many things, sweetheart, but irrational ain’t one of them.”

“Now it’s my turn to have heartburn.”

For a second, I just blinked at him. Then I realized what he meant. “Huh.”

“Huh?”

I smiled. “I’ve gotten used to the heartburn.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good. When you say that sweet shit, it doesn’t feel weird in my chest anymore. It’s just… my new normal.”

His grin wasn’t cocky, not like it could have been. Instead, it was warm. Heartfelt. Fuck, it went deeper than that.

It was home .

He was home.

The last couple months since Anton’s death had been a race against time to clear out the Brothers in Interpol.

In that time, we’d grown closer than ever. I mean, it wasn’t as if I hadn’t recognized that. But it was only now that I felt it. Deep in my fucking bones.

Leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, I whispered, “I love you, Conor.”

“I never get tired of hearing that,” he mumbled. “I love you too, baby.”

Closing my eyes, I pushed my face into his throat, enjoying how, in his arms, I was allowed to be me. Not the hacker, or the spy, or the soldier. Just me. I could be weak. I could be vulnerable. I could even be fragile.

He accepted every inch of me.

Squeezing him, I muttered, “I think we should stay here all day.”

“Tough. You dragged my ass up here so we’re going to have fun.”

“And you say I’m the contrary one.”

He slapped my butt. “Imagine what Lyra would think if you didn’t show your face, hmm?”

I grimaced. “Good point. She’s only just started to look brighter, hasn’t she?”

“I think Anton made more of an impact than we anticipated.”

“I wish I’d known. I’d never have introduced them if I had even a hint…” Regret settled heavily in my soul for that miscalculation.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, Star. The bastard would have died sooner or later.”

With a final squeeze, I clambered off him and then stood beside the bed. Grabbing his hand and knotting our fingers together, I asked, “Shower?”

“How could I refuse an invitation like that?”

An hour later, I retreated to the kitchen and found Aoife organizing things with the expertise of a general in the middle of a siege.

Moving toward one of the three islands in the kitchen, I stood there and muttered, “It’s disturbing how good you are at this.”

She arched a brow at me. “Disturbing good seeing as I’m arranging all this and you didn’t need to talk to a stranger to get it done?”

“That is very sound logic. Disturbing great . I need to get you a gift. What do you want?”

“You already gave me a gift.”

“I did?” My brow furrowed. “Oh. Dagda.”

“Yes, the fact he’s still alive,” she drawled as she iced Lyra’s birthday cake. “And… Dad.”

I hummed. “I didn’t know if he was going to step down. I’ve cursed him a couple times?—”

“A day. For the past six months,” Conor tacked on as he drifted into the kitchen, squeezing my waist with one hand before heading for the fridge.

Along the way, he kissed Aoife on the cheek then withdrew a bottle of juice which he tossed at me.

“You make me sound obsessive,” I teased.

He winked at me as he got some water for himself. “Nah. That’s not possible.”

Whistling as he left the kitchen, I watched him go, muttering under my breath, “It’s not fair to be that hot all the time.”

Aoife snorted. “I’d like to tell you that you get used to it, but you don’t.”

“What? Them being hot?”

She nodded then glanced at our sister-in-law who’d just shown up. “Camille, am I right?”

Camille patted down her hair. “Excuse me?”

Aoife stared at her knowingly. “You don’t get used to them being hot.”

“I’d say your agreement is non-verbal from the state of your lipstick,” I joked.

Her eyes flared wide before she walked over to the stove, grabbed one of the copper pots dangling from above it, and stared at her mouth in the reflection. She shot me a glower. “There’s nothing wrong with my lipstick.”

I smirked. “Made you look.”

She huffed but began patting her hair again. “And no, you don’t get used to them being hot.” She licked her lips. “Or the things they do.”

“Fan Camille down, Aoife. She’s overheated.”

Aoife chuckled. “Leave her alone. She’s young and in love.”

“And we aren’t?”

“We’re in love but we’re not young.”

“That makes me feel ancient. I’m like eight years older than you.”

She just snorted as she finished doing some special icing thing that made the frosting look like roses for Lyra’s Beauty and the Beast -themed cake.

“You spoke to him?”

“Who?” Aoife inquired.

“Your dad. Duh.”

Camille stopped patting her hair to study Aoife who just shrugged. “Once or twice.”

“You didn’t know he was going to step down?”

“No. Found out with everyone else on CNN yesterday,” she drawled, but the lack of hurt was feigned.

Davidson was fucked up.

“You know, when I spoke with him, he cared, Aoife,” I said gingerly.

That made her sniff her disdain. “He cares about the wrong things. That’s always been his problem.”

Camille and I shared a glance, then Camille teased, “Aoife, is that a hickey I see?”

My lips twitched as Aoife blushed. “No.”

“Yes, it is. And you tried to use concealer. How sweet.”

“Mostly because I knew you’d give me crap for it,” she groused.

“I’m technically giving you crap for the concealer, not the hickey.” She sighed dreamily. “I love it when Brennan leaves love bites on me.”

“I’m going before I vomit in my mouth,” I declared, disappearing with the juice bottle in my hand, leaving those two to cackle like hens in the kitchen.

As I stepped toward the patio, I found Brennan staring onto the pool.

Though Eoghan and I shared a similar history, I found myself gravitating to Brennan at these types of events.

I figured it was because he was a grump 365 days a year and I could respect that level of consistency. In turn, I thought he respected my appreciation of his grouchiness.

Over the last half-year, and with so many of these fucking family events that they celebrated almost every goddamn week, we’d grown closer.

As close as two miseries could grow, at any rate.

“I’d offer you some juice but I don’t know where your mouth’s been.”

He smirked at me. “Exactly where it’s supposed to have been.”

“But did you wash it afterward? That’s the real question.”

He just arched a brow at me.

“Gross. You can’t do that when you have kids,” I pointed out.

His brows arched higher. “Why the hell not?”

“You’re seriously asking me why you can’t walk around with your wife’s pussy juice on your face when there are little people in the vicinity?”

“People have sex after they have kids. Which we’re not having yet, by the way.”

Was it just me or did he sound grumpier about that than usual?

“They have sex, but they clean up too. Clean up, locked doors, and music. Or the sprogs think you’re crying.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience talking.”

“It is. I had Jake and Kat thinking Conor made me cry for weeks after the fact.”

He rolled his eyes. “Conor told me Kat asked him if she can be an O’Donnelly.”

I grinned. “He’s proud.”

“He is.” He grabbed the OJ bottle from my grip and poured it into his mouth from a height. “There, so I don’t offend your sensibilities,” he mocked once he’d swallowed.

I sniffed.

“I’m surprised she didn’t ask to be a Sullivan.”

“Why would she when she knows I’ll be an O’Donnelly eventually?”

“You’re not stringing him along?”

I groaned. “We’re not back to you being protective, are we?”

“I’m just watching out for my kid brother,” he retorted, giving me the side-eye.

“Why would I be stringing him along?”

“Because he’s helping you with your ‘mission.’”

This time, it was me giving him the side-eye, and mine was loaded with stink. “You’re not ruining my day, Brennan O’Donnelly. I just realized that your brother stopped giving me heartburn and I’m not letting you spoil my epiphany.”

“Heartburn?” he repeated, his brow puckering. “He gave you heartburn?”

I wafted a hand. “Never mind.”

“Hell, no. I’m curious now. Why does he give you heartburn?”

“I said he’d stopped giving it to me.”

“Why did he give it to you in the first place?”

“Because he always knows how to say the right thing and it’s so beautiful it hurts. But I’ve gotten used to it. So now there’s no hurt, just…” I mumbled into the bottle. “…good feelings.”

“Good feelings. Damn, Kid must have some patience.”

“Why must I?”

I twisted around and found Conor standing in the doorway. He must have gone back to the kitchen because he had two croissants in his hand. As he strolled over to me, I wasn’t surprised that one had ham and cheese in it—my preference.

“Because she’s a piece of work, that’s why.”

“Your brother is wearing Eau de Camille,” I countered.

Conor’s nose crinkled. “Jesus, Brennan, there are kids around.”

“So? They don’t come near me.”

“That’s because you frighten them all away,” I retorted.

Brennan snickered. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing. I’ll like children that come out of Camille. That’s it. The rest, I’ll tolerate.”

“You can’t just tolerate your nieces and nephews,” Conor pointed out.

“I’ll go to war for them, but I don’t have to like them,” Brennan argued. “And you can’t make me change my mind about that.”

Conor shook his head. “You gonna kiss your mother with that mouth? Ma just arrived with Paddy.”

He cursed under his breath but scurried off to clean up.

“Momma’s boy,” I called out, earning myself the bird he flipped my way.

Conor curved his arm around my shoulder. “Did he give you a rough time?”

“No more than usual.”

“I don’t know why you seek him out.”

“I like him.”

“I don’t get it. I like him but I have to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do. He’s Brennan.”

“There’s no logic there.”

He shrugged. “Brennan would help me when I had nightmares. He’d take a beating from Da so I didn’t get into trouble. He’d kill someone for me if I asked. So yeah, I have to.”

“Which is why I like him. Because even without knowing that, my gut clued me in. He gives me a hard time because he loves you. He’s just fucking bad at showing it.”

Conor’s grin was lopsided. “He is, isn’t he?”

We shared that grin before we turned our attention back to the pool.

Lyra was sitting under a parasol, patiently allowing Troy to apply sunscreen while Kat sneaked behind her and dive-bombed into the water, soaking them both through.

“Goddammit, Katina!” she yelled as she spun around to glower at my daughter. “How many times do I have to tell you? Lyra burns?—”

Lyra didn’t hang around. She dive-bombed into the pool too and landed a few feet away from Kat.

Troy somehow managed to spot me through the window and, glowering, she raised a hand, pointed two fingers at her eyes, then pointed them at me.

“Did she just do that?”

I snorted. “She thinks she’s De Niro.”

“She’s scarier than him in Taxi Driver .”

“Give her a mohawk and sure, I can see it.”

“Your daughter’s a menace,” Savannah declared as she stepped into the room from the French doors that led onto the pool area.

“Of course she is. She’s mine.”

“You always know how to make an entrance, Savvie,” Conor praised affectionately.

Dressed in a cotton cape and wearing a massive sun hat, big shades, and a bright-blue bikini, Vana was definitely dramatically attired.

“She got my hat wet. I was more impressive without the floppy hat.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That’s hardly the point.” She strode over to the pair of us. “Lyra’s a sweetheart.”

“In comparison to my menace?”

“You said it. Not me. Did you hear about that brothel in Queens that got raided?—”

“Oh, no,” Conor argued. “No shop talk. We’re allowed two days off, Savannah!”

She sniffed. “The news cycle stops for no man. You two are boring.”

“Aoife’s in the kitchen. She’ll listen to you,” I called after her, smirking as she unknowingly mimicked Brennan and flipped me the bird from behind.

“I’m glad the brothel got shut down.”

“Me too.” I looked at him. “You found it.”

“You got it shut down.”

Together, we grinned. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”