Page List


Font:  

Ava attempts to favor a pillow like a horse would a bridle in its mouth.

I’m about to break too, but I snatch the fluffy pillow from her mouth, letting it soar over my shoulder.

My climax builds. I bite my eyes shut, letting the pressure extend further while plowing into Ava. “Say. My. Mother.Fecking. Name. Little bird.”

In a tone that could shatter windows, Ava shouts, “I hate you,Kieran!”

“Feckingbeautiful,” I murmur, pressing my mouth against hers. With my ragged muscles tensed, I slam Ava into one orgasm and out, then straight into another. Soon enough, I follow.

A few minutes later, I’m holding Ava’s sweat-soaked body in my arms. Still catching my breath, I grit my teeth when she coolly utters, “Good night, Kieran.”

My forearm boxes her in tighter. “Oh, you’re sleepy?Go to sleep.”

With tensed lips, Ava huffs, “You’re the bane of my existence.”

My hand reaches over to skim her nipple, but she swats it down. “Hey, I’m not sleeping with you,cabrón.Hmmm . . . I hit you. What happened to an eye for an eye?”

“Give me a minute. I’ll initiate my retaliation, lassie.”

Her movements become stiff as she lifts a pillow, hugging it to her while lying sideways. “Kiera wants to—”

With a razor-sharp snarl, I cut her off. “I see you took this moment as a reason to pry. But no, my little sister ain’t a topic up for discussion.”

Ava growls in frustration. “Yeah, I kind of figured, all theI’m an open book, bull crap was just that!”

“No. We can discuss you, me, orus!” Getting my lick in, I initiate round two.

26

Ava

For as many days as I can count on both hands, I make myself scarce. I offer the overbearing, loving brother more time to mend his relationship with his little sister. I’m not sure how much longer my excuse will stand.

Besides, Kieran visits at any hour, using a skeleton key to unlock the door or entering from an entryway behind the bookshelf. When he unravels a silk binding from the pocket of his pants, I have the time of my life. All the while, I silently replay my personal credo that one day soon, I’ll run.

At the first crack of light, I’m shocked when there’s a knock on my door. The person on the other side has manners and lacks the notion that they can waltz in and out as they please. My body still stirs at the thought of it being my captor. I never fathomed that sex—kinky sex moreover—was the numbing elixir to a part of myself I could never share with Kieran.

My proverbial middle finger in the air on the night of Adnan’s second wedding is something I’ll never rehash. No one will understand my mindset. Until Kieran, no one had ever tried.

Clutching the front of my silk robe, I crack the bedroom door.

“Get dressed,” Kiera exclaims. Her attire is out of a historical romance. “Riding attire.”

I glance over her clothing—an expensive blazer with a tiny vest and fine, stretchy pants.

“Good morning,” I inch out with a smile. “Riding . . . what?”

“Our prized horses, silly.” A thick braid jumps as she skips away.

* * *

Acouple of hours later, I resemble a model in a magazine insert for a Ralph Lauren Polo ad. I’ve dressed in a cream and gray blazer and pants that cling to every curve. Astride Dixie, a beautiful, black mare, I marvel at the streaks of glorious sun rays fanning over my skin. I close my eyes, inhaling the fresh-cut grass-scented breeze and listening to the melody of birds whistling in the trees. While homeless, I thought people didn’t know the extent to which they took for granted their shelter. While in Ireland, the opposite can be said. I could live here.

The sleek thoroughbred snorts, and I adjust in my seat as Kieran takes on a trot next to me. He had the stable hand saddle his horse a few seconds before we were to set off. It was the three of us then Kiera urged her horse forward, encouraging us to linger. A not-so-subtle hint that she was offering us alone time. My broken record of excuses to allow the siblings more time together has come back to bite me in the ass.

I narrow-eye Kieran for half a second, warning him not to bother me. Moaning in contentment, I then sway on the beautiful creature.

“Where’d you learn to ride?” he asks.


Tags: Amarie Avant MacKenzie Scottish Crime Family Romance