Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Cass woke, a little disoriented. She was in her house. In her bedroom, but something was different.

Then she became aware of a whisper of air wafting over her shoulder.

Irish was sleeping beside her.

Memories from the night before flooded her mind, and tingles swept over her skin, making the hair on her arms stand to attention.

After the first time, they’d made love, Irish had held her, and they hadn’t said a word, both just happy to be with one another.

With every stroke of his fingers down her arm, the desire built in her and in him until she rode them both to a wild and loud orgasm. They’d both fallen asleep after that, and now here it was, dawn just breaking over the horizon and Irish was still in her bed.

The first time they’d slept together, he’d slipped out while she’d been sleeping. She’d been so angry and humiliated at how he’d treated her that she hadn’t spoken to him at the office for a week.

This time, though, it was different. He was still there. His lashes kissed his cheek. In repose, he looked peaceful, as if all the burdens he’d carried had been lifted and taken away.

Cass knew better. The moment he woke up, he’d remember, and the shutters would come down. For a little while last night, he’d lifted them, and she’d been able to look into his soul.

Would he let her in?

Would he tell her, even though he probably couldn’t?

Or shouldn’t.

What would he say if she told him she knew. That’d she’d been searching, when she shouldn’t have? When Cass didn’t have the right to because he hadn’t asked her to. Would he hate her, or would he be relieved that he didn’t have to explain?

Reaching out, she ran her fingers down his arm, the muscle twitching. Unable to help herself, she leaned over and pressed her lips against his, wanting to make the most of having him in her bed.

She couldn’t guess what might happen when he woke up. She wanted him to make slow love to her. Welcome the rising of the sun together.

Irish’s mouth twitched beneath hers before opening, and his arm snaked over her waist, pulling her closer to him—exactly where she wanted to be.

Against her thigh, his cock hardened, and a rush of wetness pooled between her thighs.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” he murmured sleepily against her cheek. His fingers fluttered across her belly until they dipped lower and caressed her slick folds open.

She parted her legs to give him easier access as he teased and pinched her clit.

A rush of sensations swarmed her, and Cass fell back against the bed.

Irish used her change in position to insert two fingers into her, and she cried out and lifted her hips, wanting more.

It didn’t take long for her to tumble over the edge, and she cried out his name as she ground her hips against his hand, wanting to prolong her pleasure.

As if he knew exactly what she wanted, Irish rolled over her and captured her mouth with his. His cock resting right at her entrance.

That wasn’t where she wanted him. She wanted him deep inside of her.

Cass broke the kiss and framed his face. He lifted his eyes, the blue deeper than she’d ever seen it before. “I need you inside me now.”

“I can’t deny you anything, Cass.”

She wished he’d call her Alastriona . She loved it when he did that. He’d used that name the night before, and her heart had swelled.

Cass opened her mouth to ask him do so, when he rolled away.

He hadn’t changed his mind, had he?

The thought was fleeting and quickly discarded when he dug out a condom. Maybe she should tell him she was on birth control.

What would it feel like to have him bare inside of her?

Cass didn’t have any time to speculate when he slid home.

“God, you feel so good,” she moaned and clutched him closer to her.

“You have no idea how fucking amazing it is when you clench me tightly.”

“How amazing?” she teased and squeezed him .

Irish’s answer was to increase his pace.

She didn’t need his answer because what he was doing to her had all thoughts and questions floating out of her mind.

Heat suffused her body as she got closer and closer to the edge. On his next thrust she shattered all around him, crying out his name as her pussy throbbed and clenched around his dick.

A moment later Irish came, and she could feel his release thrumming through him.

Breathless, she clung to him as he rolled them to the side so she was resting over his chest, like he’d done the night before.

Cass’s eyes drifted shut as she processed the way her body was feeling. The way Irish made her feel. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever experienced in another man’s arms. The chemistry between her and Irish was out of this world.

“I definitely could get used to greeting every morning this way.”

She smiled. “So could I.”

They lay there, lost in their own thoughts as their breathing settled down to a normal rhythm.

“I suppose I should get up and go to the office,” she murmured, really not wanting to move.

“Why? It’s Saturday.”

“Right. I forgot.”

The weekends had never meant that much to Cass because it wasn’t like she had a gaggle of girlfriends to catch up with. Nor did she have a lot of errands to run.

She paid all her bills online, and if she wanted something she ordered it and had it delivered to the office. Cass couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to a mall and wandered around.

Shopping had never had a high appeal for her. Her life had been pretty simple, and she’d often wondered if that was because the childhood she’d remembered had been nothing fun.

No fun outings with her mom. No special daddy/daughter days or events. Even as a kid, her parents had made her attend classes on a Saturday, and on a Sunday, they’d stayed at home, barely talking to her.

How had she not thought that unusual? Especially when the kids in her class were going to birthday parties. Not once had she been invited and at the time it hadn’t bothered her, but now it did.

Her childhood had been lonely and barren, and it hadn’t even registered until this moment.

“I don’t know what to do?” Cass whispered.

Irish shifted, and she found herself hauled into a sitting position next to him. “What do you mean? ”

“It’s the weekend, and I didn’t even know it. I always go into the office. Every day. There’s always something that needs monitoring. And after what happened with Astrid and Teresa, I’ve been keeping an eye on the dark web to see if their names pop up in conversation.”

“And have they?”

“No.” For that she was relieved. The cartel forgetting about them was a miracle, but also troubling because it didn’t make any sense to her why they would one minute want them dead, and the next, forget they even existed.

“That’s good, but, Cass.” Irish hooked a finger under her chin and lifted it so that she had no choice but to look at him. “No one expects you to work twenty-four-seven. You know that.”

“I do. It’s just—” She shrugged. What could she say?

“It’s all you’ve ever known.” He voiced what she couldn’t.

“I guess.”

Cass had never had to face how she lived her life before. Face what it looked like to other people.

Irish wasn’t going to judge her and tell her she was pathetic for working as much as she did. He wasn’t going to say that she needed to get a hobby. He’d say she needed to find a balance.

“Balance.” She tested the word on her tongue.

A concept that was almost foreign to her. She hadn’t known balance, which was why she’d made herself leave the CIA.

“We all need a little of that in our lives, and it’s hard to find sometimes.”

“Do you?” she asked.

Even with everything he’d gone through, Irish had his life together. Not that she knew what he did on the weekends, but he hadn’t ever been in the office when she’d been working. Ox occasionally, but that had certainly tapered off ever since he met Eveline.

“I try,” Irish admitted. “I could do better, but I know I need to be able to shut off to operate correctly. To completely disengage from whatever I’m working on. Otherwise, when I have to act, I’m too exhausted and not only put myself in danger, but the person I’m protecting.”

And my team.

He didn’t say the words, but she’d known they had to be on the tip of his tongue. Or at least in the forefront of his mind.

Once a team player, always a team player.

“Even when I was in the CIA, I worked all the time. It’s why I made myself leave. I hadn’t slept in weeks, and I almost stepped out in front of a car. A man pulled me back to the curb. If he hadn’t been there, well, let’s just say neither would I.”

Beneath her hand, Irish’s body had hardened to steel. “Why the fuck did the CIA make you work weekends? Why didn’t they send you home?”

Cass lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. They would’ve known I was in the building as I had to go through security every day, but I stayed in my office and did my job. It was like I was conditioned to work that way. When I almost died, it was the wake-up I needed, and I tendered my resignation the next day.”

“And they took it without question, right?” Irish asked.

“Yes, they did.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange, considering who your parents were and how much time and money they’d invested in you and your education?”

Why did she feel like she was sitting in front of a senate committee being drilled with questions that were the same thing but just phrased differently?

Cass pulled away. Why was Irish treating her this way? Was she overreacting? Maybe, but her skin itched as though a million spiders were crawling over it.

Why was she reacting this way to a simple query ?

An overwhelming urge to run burst inside of her, and she tossed the covers back, rushing to the bathroom. She was almost at the door, when Irish’s hand landed at the small of her back.

The touch immediately soothed the panic.

How was that possible?

One simple touch had the power to make her anxiety disappear.

“I’m sorry, Alastriona. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at them.” Irish pressed his body against her, as if he knew how his touch affected her, not only in a sexual way, but in a calming manner as well.

“I don’t know why they let me go, Dylan. They didn’t even bat an eyelid. They just wished me luck and told me I didn’t have to serve out my notice.” She turned and laid her head on his chest, grateful when his arms closed around her like a protective blanket. “I was just so glad to get out of there that I didn’t give it much thought.”

Irish pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t need an answer. I’m glad they let you go. That you’re here with me.”

“I am, too.”