Page 24 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

T he rest of dinner went off without a hitch.

In fact, it was going too well if Olivia was going to be honest with herself.

Cillian was a perfect gentleman, and their conversation had only had the slightest hiccups through the meal.

As he paid and rose to get her chair, she wasn’t sure what the next step was.

She hated being so unsure, but this was completely new territory across the board.

Was this a date where he’d drop her off at work with a kiss?

Or was he going to get back to what they’d started in the alley behind Jameson’s?

She knew which one she’d prefer.

Let’s give him some incentive.

She stepped to the side as they walked out onto the street, and grabbed his suit jacket, tugging him against her.

Her back hit the wall behind her, the feeling making her shiver with memories from the other times he’d had her in this position.

Cillian caught himself with his hands on either side of her, his body pressed against hers. “Hey there.”

“Hey.” She licked her lips, her gaze on his mouth, her stomach in her throat.

It would be easy to make a joke and back off, and pretend this never happened.

He’d let her. Hell, he was letting her take the reins right now.

If she changed her mind, he wasn’t going to blink.

Knowing that only made her hotter. So she took a flying leap of faith.

“I don’t suppose you know somewhere we can go to be alone? I still have an hour before my shift.”

“You mean someplace better than me dragging you into that alley?” His tone was flippant, but his eyes belied the joking. He’d do it. They both knew he’d do it.

And she’d enjoy every last second of it.

Come on, Olivia. You’re better than back-alley sex . No matter how much you like it .

Shut up .

She ran her hands up his chest, taking her time and enjoying the way his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s not.” Still looking at her, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a phone, and dialed. “Yeah, Liam? Send a car around. One with a divider.” He hung up.

“You’re just going to do me in the backseat of your car? We’re really moving up the class level, aren’t we?” She gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t even know how I feel about that.”

Cillian leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. “You know exactly how you feel about it. And no, I’m not fucking you in the backseat, sweetheart.”

Disappointment closed her throat. Of course he wasn’t.

Because he was classier than that, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wasn’t.

She’d been the one to haul him into that alley the first time, and if he’d been down for a repeat, she wouldn’t have said a word otherwise.

No, she would have dropped her pants right there in her desperation to have him.

Shame rose to tangle with her disappointment. God, I am so messed up .

He leaned back enough to study her expression. “What did I say to put that look on your face?”

“It’s nothing.” Nothing except her mind being twisted into a tangle that she could barely navigate. He didn’t have a problem with anything that had happened to date— she was the one creating the complications.

“I know what nothing looks like, and that’s not it.” He tipped up her chin. “Tell me, Olivia.”

How was she supposed to deny him when he said her name in that tone of voice?

A tone like he actually cared if he’d hurt her.

Like he wanted to make it better. Every instinct she had demanded she close down and retreat to lick her wounds—opening up only gave the world more chances to stab her in the back.

Instead, she told the truth. “I’m just feeling awfully easy right now.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not easy.” His brows dipped in a frown. “There’s nothing wrong with seeing what you want and going for it—whether it’s sex, money, or something else.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It is.” He glanced over his shoulder as a black town car with darkly tinted windows pulled up to the curb behind them. “Come on.”

“Cillian, I’m not sure this is a good idea…”

“Trust me.” He stopped, and looked at her. “Just this once. This stops the second you want it stopped. Say the word and I get you to Jameson’s—no questions asked.”

He’s too good to be true .

Maybe, but that didn’t stop her from taking his hand and letting him lead her to the car. He ushered her into the backseat and climbed in behind her. Sure enough, there was a dark glass divider between them and the front seat, though it was cracked a few scant inches.

Cillian glanced at his watch. “Drive around for the next forty-five minutes, but stay in this general area.”

“Yes, sir.” The window closed before she could get a good look at the man in the driver’s seat.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and immediately reversed the movement. “So, what now?”

“Now, sweetheart, we do whatever you want.” He leaned back and draped his arms over the back of the seat. The position put his hand close to the back of her neck, and he trailed a finger across her spine.

She shivered. “Whatever I want.”

“Exactly what I said.” The tension in his body belied the ease of his words.

“Normally…Well, it doesn’t matter what would happen normally.

We’ve played that game before and, I don’t know about you, but I like the reality better than any alternative thing we could dream up.

I like you, Olivia. I want to take you out again.

So I’m willing to do whatever it takes not to spook you. ”

“I’m not a wild animal.”

“Aren’t you?” He traced some abstract pattern over her skin, drawing forth another shiver. “It’s not meant as an insult. My point is that what happens in the next forty-five minutes is completely within your control.”

“My control.” She tasted the words, considering them, and then scooted closer.

“Anything I want.” She liked the sound of that.

She liked it a lot. Maybe he was right—there was nothing wrong with seeing what you wanted and taking it.

She might have been fighting it since that first time, but the truth was that she wanted Cillian.

“Anything you want.” He didn’t blink.

“Tempting. Very tempting.” She ran a hand down the center of his chest, undoing the buttons one by one.

It took a few minutes between the vest and the shirt beneath, but then she had his bare chest laid out before her.

She spread his shirt, and then traced over the dragon.

“How old were you when you got this done?”

“Eighteen.”

She leaned down and kissed the dragon between his eyes. Cillian smelled amazing, like some kind of expensive cologne and, beneath that, the man she wanted more than she had a right to. “And the bullet scar?”

“Six months ago.”

She traced it with her mouth. It must have broken his collarbone when it hit him, but she was suddenly so incredibly thankful that it hadn’t gone near anything vital. “The person who shot you?”

“Dead.”

“Good.” The thought of some person wandering the world after putting a bullet in this man was wrong on so many levels. The gunman should have died for what he did, and she was glad to hear that he had.

She shifted down to the floorboard so she could kneel between his legs. “I like your ink. I don’t know if I said that the other night.”

“I like that you like it.” In the darkness of the car, his eyes were pools of shadow. Even his voice sounded different, huskier and full of promises that she was only too eager to follow through on.

She undid his belt slowly, liking the way his mouth tightened, but didn’t immediately go for the button of his slacks. Instead, she kissed his stomach, following the line of the dragon’s back to his chest and then to his shoulder where its wings met the swallows bracketing his throat.

He rested his hands on her hips, not guiding or pushing, just touching her.

She climbed into his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me.” She pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it to the side.

“I want to feel your skin against mine.” Leaning forward, she had to bite back a moan when her chest pressed against his, her bra the only barrier between them.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He ran his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. “Fuck, you’re almost too good to be true.” His thumbs feathered over her nipples, and this time she couldn’t hold back her moan. Cillian dipped down and captured one with his mouth, sucking her through the lace.

“Oh God .” She tried to get closer, digging her fingers into his hair and rolling her hips, but her jeans were too tight for her to get to where she needed. “More.”

He looked up at her. “I’m going to make you come now.”

She was already nodding. “Yes.”

His grin was almost reward enough in and of itself.

But then he hooked an arm around her waist and twisted, laying her down across the backseat and covering her.

His weight settling between her legs was a whole new kind of heaven, but he didn’t stop there.

Cillian slipped an arm behind one knee and hitched her leg up and around his waist, so that the ridge of his cock rubbed right across the seam of her jeans and her clit.

He kissed her as he rolled his hips, devouring her mouth.

His tongue stroked hers and he slipped a hand down to cup her ass, bringing her more firmly against him. “You like this.”

“Yes.” A breathless laugh escaped as he licked and nipped across her jaw. “I feel a little like I’m necking in the back of some high school boyfriend’s car, though.”

He leaned back enough to meet her gaze. “Sweetheart, I’m a thousand times better than some fumbling teenager.” As if to prove his point, he rolled his hips again, the friction nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. He lightly bit her earlobe.