Page 44 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

He pushes into the house through the glass doors. The next thing I know, I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, and Connor is stripping me out of my clothes, kissing every piece of my skin as he uncovers it. “I woke up wanting you, and you weren’t there.”

“Sorry.” My hands fist in his shirt, yanking it over his head. “Won’t happen again.”

He laughs as I lift my hips off the countertop so he can pull my leggings and panties off, and then he squats, spreads my legs, and buries his face in my pussy, lapping at my core.

“Oh God.” I lean back on my elbows, unable to stay upright, and reach down with one hand to clutch his hair in my fist. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

I close my eyes and let my head fall back.

“Eyes on me, or I stop.”

My gaze flutters open and back to his, and then he licks me, from opening to clit, and every muscle in my body tightens.

“Connor.”

“You’re so bloody soaked, angel.”

“Billionaire.”

“Aye, a ghrá. What is it that you need?”

“You.”

“More specific.” I love it when his voice gets bossy and hard like this.

“ Connor. ” He pushes his tongue inside me, and I swear to all that’s holy, I’m going to explode.

“Tell me.”

“Please let me come. I need to come.”

He rubs his thumb over that bundle of nerves and fucks my opening with his tongue.

I fall apart, my hips pushing, circling, as I ride wave after wave, then Connor’s kissing the inside of my thighs and up my hip to my stomach.

As his teeth close around my nipple, I feel him nudge his pants down before the crown of his cock is pressed to my opening, and he slides his mouth to mine with a groan.

“You’re so ready for me.”

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips.

“Is that what you need, mo rúnsearc ? Do you need my cock inside you?”

“ Please. ” My nails dig into his shoulders, and with a satisfied grin on that impossibly handsome face, he slams into me and doesn’t stop to wait for me to adjust to his size.

He pounds in and out, hands gripping my hips so hard, I’m bound to have bruises from his fingertips later, and I can’t wait.

His face is mere inches from mine, and he’s murmuring words in Gaelic that I don’t understand, but they’re so beautiful, they embed themselves right into my heart.

“Mine,” he finally growls in English, biting me just under my ear. “You’re mine, Billie. Every gorgeous piece of you. Inside and out.”

“Yours,” I confirm, hitching my legs higher on his hips. “Always yours.”

He pushes twice more, then grinds against me, filling me so completely and hitting my clit just so until we’re both rushing into oblivion together.

He fucks me through his climax. Breathing hard, he braces himself on the counter on either side of my hips and nibbles the crook of my neck, sending more shivers through me, making me tighten around him again.

“Christ, I love you.” He shakes his head and kisses my forehead. “Every glorious inch of you.”

“I love you too, billionaire.” I grin at him, then cringe when he pulls out of me, and we make a mess of the kitchen floor. “I’ll clean that up.”

“I have housekeepers,” he reminds me.

“Oh, hell no. I’m not leaving that for a housekeeper.” I push on his chest and reach for the paper towels, but he scoops me up, tucked under his arm, and carries me out of the room. “Connor!”

“I’ll take care of it before they get here,” he says. “But right now, I want you back in our bed.”

“That’s a lovely handbag, Billie,” Maeve, Connor’s mom, says to me as we sit in the parlor before dinner is served.

Their home is bigger than Connor’s, and I didn’t think that was possible.

I was dead wrong.

The Gallagher family is beyond what I can comprehend as wealthy. Their hotel and resort brand is on par with Hilton, The Ritz, and other luxury hotels, and I get that .

But sometimes, I’m reminded just how filthy rich they are.

I’m in a green Chanel dress with black Chanel heels and a bag from the same designer. All of it thrifted, which makes me immensely happy.

“Oh, thank you,” I reply, glancing down at the bag in my lap. “I was excited to find it.”

“I looked for months,” she says, surprising me.

“You did?”

“Yes, I called every Chanel sales associate I know in Europe and the US, and no one could get their hands on one for me.”

I blink at her, surprised, and aware that Connor and his father are listening to our conversation.

“I have to ask, where did you find it?” Maeve asks.

“At a consignment shop in New York,” I reply with a wide smile. “Just this past week, when Connor and I were there. I was shocked when I saw it on the shelf, and I couldn’t leave it behind because I knew it was hard to get.”

Maeve blinks in surprise. “A consignment shop? Interesting.”

“To be honest, my whole outfit is thrifted.”

Her jaw drops. “But you’re covered in Chanel, head to toe, darlin’. In fact, every time I’ve seen you this past year, you’ve been in designer labels. I admire your fashion choices.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you. All thrifted.”

Her gaze moves to Connor’s, and then back to me. “ Billie, I’m quite sure my son would be happy to buy you any labels you want, new from the shops.”

“Oh, I know he would.” I nod, not shy in the least. “Connor’s incredibly generous, but I have to tell you, going on the hunt for designer labels through consignment and at a thrift store I found in a neighboring town is one of my favorite hobbies.”

Maeve’s green eyes don’t look convinced, so I chuckle and lean over to take her hand.

“Honest, you’d be shocked at what I find.

Most of the garments still have tags on them and have never been worn.

I love the game of it, the thrill of the hunt, I guess you could say.

And I’m obsessed with fashion. This is how I feed that obsession, which I’m happy to do on my own.

Connor is already generous enough with his time, his affection, and so many other things.

I don’t need him to splurge on shopping. ”

“So tell me,” she says, leaning in closer. “What else have you found? I want to hear about it all. And next time you’re in New York, I’ll meet you there and join you, if you don’t mind.”

I rub my hands together, thrilled to share my secrets with Connor’s mom. I love that she’d like to go with me.

“Oh, I’d love that. Okay, I found so many amazing things. Do you remember …”

Maeve and I spend the next thirty minutes talking about bags and shoes and clothes. When it’s time for dinner, it’s not Connor wrapping his arm around my shoulders to guide me to the dining room, but Patrick .

“You’re a fine thing,” he says with a soft smile. Connor resembles his father. “And a beautiful one. How have you been, Billie?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. And you?”

He looks down at me, almost as tall as his son, and appears surprised that I’d ask him how he is.

Does no one ask powerful people how they’re doing? It boggles my mind.

“I’m grand, thank ye,” he replies, showing me to my seat at the table.

“Are you enjoying retirement?” I ask him as I set my napkin in my lap.

“Goodness, no,” Maeve says, shaking her head with a laugh. “He’s bored out of his bleedin’ mind.”

Connor’s eyes sharpen on his father. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Patrick shakes his head. “I’ll find things to fill my time. Golf isn’t it for me.”

“Da, you can come back?—”

“No, lad.” Patrick shakes his head again. “That’s for you now. The truth is, I don’t want to go back to the office. We enjoy being in Galway, and now that both you and Skyla are in Montana, we’ll come out there more often.”

“Perhaps, if someone would give us wee babies to hold and smother with love, we wouldn’t be so bored.” Maeve stares at her son, and I hide my smile behind my glass of wine.

“You’re not as subtle as you once were,” Connor says to his mother .

“I’m running out of time to be subtle,” she insists. “I want babies to hold and love before I leave this earth, Connor Declan Gallagher.”

I can’t hold back the bubble of laughter that escapes, and Maeve turns her attention to me.

“Do you want children, Billie?”

Connor mutters, “Christ,” under his breath, earning a glare from his mother.

“Sure, one day. For now, I spoil my niece, Birdie. Did you hear that Dani and Bridger are going to have another baby?”

“No, we hadn’t heard,” Patrick says, eyeing his wife with tender love in his green eyes. “That’s lovely then.”

“I’m sure your parents are filled with joy,” Maeve says, her eyes welling with tears.

“You know what I think is really great?” I ask her, and she turns her attention to me, sniffling against her napkin.

“That you don’t have to be related to someone by blood to show them affection and love.

I know, without a doubt in my mind, that my brother’s new baby will need all the attention they can get.

So please feel welcome to come to Bitterroot Valley anytime to get all the baby snuggles you need.

Dani doesn’t have parents of her own, but that baby will have a lot of people around to shower him or her with affection.

And Birdie is the sweetest little thing, as you know.

If I remember correctly, she loved hearing the Irish stories you told her, Patrick, when we were in London. ”

“We’ll have to go soon. And then spend the holidays there as well,” Maeve says to Patrick, who nods while watching me.

Connor takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles as dinner is served.