“Are you ready to go, Tiggy?”
I glance over at Connor. Paddy is nowhere to be seen. Maybe he finally convinced Seamus to be taken off my security detail. I wouldn’t mind if that happened.
“I’m ready.”
I have a growing list of chores at home. Seamus has only had me come into Oracle twice a week since Tristan appeared, so I told him the cleaning service didn’t need to doeverythinganymore. I’m back in charge of meals, shopping, and laundry, and it is piling up.
Unfortunately, Paddy is still on my security detail, lounging against the side of Connor’s SUV, messing about on his phone. He shoots me a lethal glare as we approach, and I bite back a sigh. MaybeIcould ask Seamus to take him off my detail.
I could word the request so Seamus might think agreeing would absolve him of any residual guilt, and he might finally fuck me. First, though, I’m starving. Maybe I’ll make cabbage rolls for lunch. I haven’t eaten them in forever.
I’m folding laundry after lunch when hands slide over my hips, pulling me against a hard dick and grinding my ass against it. I freeze.
It’s been six days since I realized Seamus was punishing himself by not fucking me, and our routine continues. So someone grabbing me like this during the day isn’t good. How the hell did they get past Connor and Paddy?
Taking a deep breath, I make sure not to telegraph my intentions and throw my elbow back hard.
“Fuck, Tig,” Seamus grunts. His hands release me as he rubs his shoulder, where my elbow caught him.
“Oh my God, Seamus!” I squeal, spinning, my hands flying to my mouth before fluttering around his shoulder. “I thought some stranger was grabbing me.”
He grins through his pain, his hands sliding around my waist again.
“Well, then I’m glad you have that fucking weapon on you.”
I roll my eyes at him. “How come you’re home during the day?”
The grin drops off his face. Shit. I didn’t mean for it to come out so defensively. I rush to reassure him.
“Not that I’m complaining.”
He leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, satisfaction rolling off him in tangible waves.
“We got the bastard. Niall’s dealing with him now,” he tells me solemnly.
The bastard? Oh my God. Tristan and Mya’s stepfather. I blink in surprise, my breath catching. Holy shit. I know he said he would sort it for me, but I didn’t think he would manage it so soon. My eyes flutter closed, and I suck in a deep breath.
“Thank you.”
He nods, pressing a kiss against my hairline. “Ye’re welcome.”
My pussy clenches at the Irish brogue in his voice.
“I need to be inside ye, Tig,” he whispers, his voice almost desperate with need. Oh, thank God. I was starting to worry we would never have sex again. My hands are nearly shaking in their eagerness to unbutton his jeans. Dear God, do I need this.
“Please, Seamus,” I whimper, tearing his zipper down.
He hooks his fingers under the band of my panties, tugging them down as he lifts me, pressing me against the laundry room wall, thrusting into me, and burying his face in my neck.
“Holy feck, Tig.”
His lips move against my neck as he holds still inside me, both of us needing a moment to become accustomed again to this feeling.
“Ye feel so fecking amazing,aghrámochroí. I’ve fecking missed this. Missed being inside ye.”
I have no idea what the Irish he whispers means, but I shiver at the worshipful way he murmurs it.
“I need you to fuck me, Seamus.”