Daddies Brat

Katriona

Through it all, Sylan doesn’t release my mouth from his claiming kiss. He thrusts his tongue inward groaning into my mouth. I meet each stroke of his tongue with my own and then I’m torn away. Another mouth claiming mine in another possessive kiss. Rough hands and strong arms send my heart rate soaring. Seeking caresses run over my body and I’m drowning in so many emotions I don’t know who’s arms I’m in, whose mouth is taking mine until I pry my eyes open to find Drake peering down at me with such a soul-searing heat I’m left with nothing but the need to taste him again. Taste them.

He lowers me to the floor and I’m surrounded. It is comforting and confusing all at once.

With a sputtered gasp I push out of their arms, though I’m not completely sure I don’t want their hands on me. My body is on high alert waiting for one of us to take this further.

All of us heave and gasp for air but it’s Sylan who regains his composure first. “A feistiness to match the Irish blood. Such a treat. I’m not sure we’re not getting the better deal here, men.” He strokes a thumb over my lip and I look on as he pulls it back to his mouth.

“Irish indeed,” he groans.

I hiss through clenched teeth at the very mention of my father’s roots. “It has nothing to do with my Irish blood, I assure you.”

Sylan ran a finger under my chin. “You sure about that?” Bending, his lips lighten on mine once more, luring a surge of lust to the surface.

He makes quick work of righting my skirt and helping me fix the bodice back over my ample breasts.

“Later, when we have you all to ourselves, there won’t be any stopping us from tasting you thoroughly.”

I believe him. The darkly growled promise reaches into my soul and burns a reminder for me to keep close to my heart. Why it matters to me to have these men want me so much I don’t know, but I’ll deep dive into all the mental luggage later.

Instead of letting my runaway thoughts take control, I force myself to focus.

I smile politely though I can taste the remnants of whiskey on my tongue from our kiss and it’s hard to ignore. “If you know my father then you know he cares nothing about me. I’m the wrong person to help get what you want. He’d probably sell me off if it rid him of any kind of responsibility.” I’m hesitant to ask, but can’t help myself. “Why do you care about him anyway? He’s on his side of the city and you on yours.” I don’t understand the politics of territories but I’m starting to see I need to change that real fast.

Grey takes the lead on this one. “He owes us something.”

I’m starting to connect the dots. “That was you today, wasn’t it? Outside my apartment? My father dropped by today and seemed to bring an unwanted guest with him. A black car.”

Drake exchanges looks with the other two then shakes his head. “Feds most likely. Your father likes to entertain a lot of enemies. But I assure you if it was us anywhere near where you live, we would not have stayed in the car like some slithering snake waiting to strike.”

“Nor would we have let this happen.” Grey points to my arm, wearing a smug smile. “Not our style.”Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

“What’s not your style? Roughhousing women, stalking people? What? Luring a waitress to your office to kiss the hell out of them?” I can feel the hysteria from earlier return.

All three go silent, giving my heart ample time to jackhammer out of my chest with all the possible answers rushing through my head.

“Breathe and drink this.”

Someone presses a drink into my hand. I do as I’m told and take it. Two swallows and I down the liquid. Flames lick the back of my throat but I don’t flinch. Just welcome the biting distraction for what it is. Liquid courage.

“I need to leave. I don’t belong here.”

Sylan growls, and runs a hand through my hair, ruining the bun Nikki styled for me. Long blond hair falls to my shoulders and it’s in his hands. Fingers buried deep, he clutches me close to his chest. My heart rattles and I can’t breathe.

Green eyes turn so dark I can see my reflection stare back at me.

“You still don’t get it.” His tone turns cold, ruthless. “Get one thing through your head, Ms. Kane. Until we get what we want from your father, you’re ours to do with as we please. You’re ours.”

I can feel the tingle of power skate over my skin. He means what he says. My hands dig into the material of his shirt and I’m holding him just as tightly as he does me.

Gazes holding, he brushes his lips over mine. A soft touch contrasting his harsh words. Not commanding or dangerous. But almost like a matter of fact. I’m theirs and he just sealed it with a kiss.

Then he releases me into Drake and Grey’s hold. Each slide a possessive hand over me-one around my waist to settle over my stomach, the other on my hip.

Their message is clear. I’m not going anywhere.

Sylan puts distance between us. He strides across the room and slides on a black leather holster, unrolls his sleeves and slips diamond cufflinks into the holes.

Ours. His words burn into my brain. Fear skitters over my body. I can’t help but think about what he means by ours. Like cuffed to a wall? Tied to a bed? Shared between them? Or thrown in a basement somewhere forgotten?

All possibilities.

“Yours? Me?” I croak.

“Yes,” all three say in unison. “And I think we’re going to like having you as our little prisoner.”

“What is it you’re wanting from my father?”

“Money. Even men in our positions need it from time to time. Or something equally as valuable.” Sylan is back in front of me. He holds himself close, his nostrils flaring and I don’t care for the possessive hand he has on my jaw. “Your father likes to gamble too much for a man in his position, earning friends and foes. I’ll let you determine which we are to him.”

I blink hard twice. Blunt. I can appreciate that, but no way in hell am I playing into their little game of blackmail.

“Sorry. I think we both know my father would rather see me dead than try to save me from the likes of you. And another thing.” I straighten my spine to its full length and square my shoulders, not feeling the least bit intimidating to the likes of these men. “No one forces me to do a damn thing.” Righteous indignation spills over my declaration.

Sylan spreads his hands in front of him with an amused smile on his lips. “Let’s hope that’s not true about your father. For your sake,” Sylan adds in what almost sounds like a challenge.

“It seems we’re about to find out. Take a look.” Grey pulls his hand away and is across the room punching buttons as he speaks. I track his movements and immediately see the problem.

Muscles is back and he has brought company.

“Looks like I’ll only be in the way here. I’ll just leave.” I give a half salute and turn on my heel. Two steps toward the door and I’m being scooped up and pinned against an iron chest.

“Not so fast. You are exactly why they’re here. Let’s get this over with.” Grey smiles down at me and the other two move in until I’m flanked on three sides as we move through empty, dark hallways. A burst of light from a bulb hits my retinas and I throw up a hand as a door swings open and the men usher me into the night air.

A car is waiting for us and someone on the inside opens the door. I’m so focused on not wanting to be shoved inside their car I don’t notice the other just as fatal details.

Like Muscles standing ten yards from us. Arms raised, the barrel of his semi-automatic pointed right at us. The black of his eyes capturing mine.

And then all hell breaks loose.

“Don’t shoot the girl. We take her alive. Kill the rest,” some disembodied asshole shouts into the fading evening, and chills claw down my spine.