ALANNAH: Slater Brothers Book 5.5 Read online

  “You’re not stupid,” Damien stated softly. “You’re just tired, and your nightmare is using your exhaustion to scare you.”

  I agreed with him.

  “I’m sorry for wakin’ ye’,” I said as I glanced at the wall and saw it was only five to two. “Ye’ must think I’m—”

  “Beautiful when you’re sleepy?” Damien cut me off. “You bet I do.”

  I smiled. “You’re full of it.”

  I climbed back into our bed while Damien went to the bathroom. He turned off the light when he returned, cloaking the room in darkness. When the mattress dipped, and he lay back down, I rolled over to snuggle against his side straight away. I felt bad for waking him because I knew how tired he was. He had been working nonstop as of late, and he deserved a full night’s rest even though he couldn’t have that because of me. I kissed his chest just as his arm came around me.

  “Do you want to have sex?”

  I vibrated with silent laughter at his unexpected question.

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  Damien gave me a light squeeze. “I’m just checking to see if you want some of this before you go to sleep.”

  I heard in his voice how tired he was. If I said yes to having sex, he would fulfil my request, but I knew he didn’t really want to do anything other than close his eyes and go to sleep.

  “I’ll have some of ye’ in the mornin’, big man,” I answered with a forced yawn. “Go to sleep.”

  He didn’t answer me, and I knew it was because he was already falling asleep. That was Damien’s superpower. He was one of those sickening people who could fall asleep the second their head touched a pillow. I envied him for that, especially at the current moment when sleep was the last thing on my mind. I waited for ten long minutes, just to make sure he was in a deep sleep, before I slipped out of his hold. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and gently closed the door behind me.

  I lifted the lid off the basket in the hallway that was full of clean, folded clothes. Taking off my pyjamas, I tossed them into the dirty wash basket in the bathroom and popped on my oversized white plaid shirt. As I buttoned it up and rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, my finger got snagged in a small hole. The shirt had seen better days; the wear and tear showed how old it was. It was a large shirt, long enough to cover my behind, so I didn’t bother searching for leggings to put on. I checked on Barbara, who was asleep in the sitting room and clearly comfortable by the way she was positioned on the settee.

  I cleaned out her litter tray and topped up her water before I ventured into my inner sanctum. Glancing around after I flipped on the light, the first thing I thought of was my dream, but I forced myself to push it to the back of my mind. I already had a mini breakdown over it, so I didn’t need to give it any more thought. I couldn’t help that Morgan entered my subconscious when I was asleep, but I’d be damned if he took over my mind while I was awake.

  “He is gone,” I told myself. “He has no power over you, Damien, or anyone else.”

  I inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before I got to work on a sketch of Ryder and Branna’s twins, Nixon and Jules. Even though I worked on it whenever I had free time, it was coming together slower than I would have liked, and for some reason, I was sure it was because of my nightmares. Every nightmare I had seemed to drain me of life a small piece at a time, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I wished I could talk to Damien about it, but he constantly thought of Morgan and played the what-if game when he thought back to our lives six months ago. And I found myself always assuring him that everything was okay when I needed that same reassurance.

  I wanted to talk to Bronagh, but she already had her hands full with her family, and the fact she was nearly due her second baby. I didn’t want to bother her or anyone else with my dumb, recurring issue. My parents were out of the question too; the three of us were preparing to get the results of my ma’s recent mammogram to see if she was cancer free or if she had to go through more treatments. I had no one to confide in, meaning I only had myself to ‘talk’ to, and that led to me overthinking and making myself sick with worry.

  Morgan had truly succeeded when he set out to get inside my head. He didn’t turn me away from the Slater brothers for good as he’d originally wanted, but he succeeded in making me doubt everything. Myself. Damien. My life. In my heart, I knew I was happy in my relationship, with my job, my friends, and my family … but that was where the worry came in. I was terrified of losing everything I had. I knew what it felt like to be at rock bottom, and I feared feeling that emptiness again.

  “Stop overthinkin’,” I scowled at myself. “Just stop.”

  I shook my head and focused on my sketch. I immersed myself in my craft and got lost in the beauty of creating. I glanced at the clock on the wall to my right when I paused for a mini break. It was nearly four a.m., and that shocked me. Time had flown by as I worked. I rolled my neck onto my shoulders, grunting when I heard a satisfying pop.

  “Freckles?”

  I jerked my gaze over my shoulder, squinting my eyes in time to see Damien emerge from the shadows as he stepped into the room from the hallway. My eyes trailed down his form, and I swallowed. He was naked except for the black boxer briefs he wore, and gazing at his body caused a shiver to run the length of my spine. He was so deliciously beautiful that I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of him.

  “Ye’ scared me, Dame.”

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice laced with sleep. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

  I turned back to my easel.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d come in ‘ere and do some sketchin’.”

  “When did you come in here?”

  “After ye’ fell back asleep earlier.”

  He sighed. “You should have woken me up.”

  “Why?” I questioned. “You could sleep, and I couldn’t. It didn’t make sense for me to stay in there and disrupt ye’.”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he came up behind me and rested his hands lightly on my hips, his thumbs playing with the fabric of my shirt. “What are you drawing, gorgeous?”

  “See for yourself.”

  “Is that Jules … or Nixon?”

  “It’s Jules,” I answered. “Nixon will go next to ‘im.”

  “You’re drawing the twins?”

  I nodded as I used my finger to smooth out a harsh edge on Jules’s earlobe.

  “I want to surprise their parents with it. I haven’t drawn the twins since they were newborns, and they’re just over six months old now, so I wanted to fix that. I’m goin’ to add Ry and Bran in the background, too.”

  “Babe, that’s so sweet of you.”

  “Thanks. I think they’ll love it.”

  I stiffened when Damien tugged my shirt up and slid his hands down from my hips to my behind, his fingers not so gently biting into my flesh.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I playfully warned. “I’m busy.”

  “Please?” Damien murmured, nuzzling his face between my shoulder blades. “I woke up craving you, freckles.”

  I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop my lips from curving upwards at the corners.

  “Ye’ say that every single time ye’ wake up with a stiffy.”

  Damien’s chuckle was low. “That means I crave you.”

  “That’s a cute way of sayin’ ye’ want to get your cock wet.”

  He didn’t answer me; he was too busy sliding his hands down onto my bare mid-thighs. I turned to face him with a frown in place. Damien looked at my expression and smiled. He was tired—I could tell from how heavy his lids hung over his luminous grey eyes—but he still wanted me, and that caused me to pause.

  “You have charcoal on your nose.”

  I wasn’t surprised.

  “Wipe it off.”

  “My hands are a little full at the minute.”

  He cupped my behind roughly, and when I scowled up at him, he grinned.

  “Five minutes,” he said. “I’ll be qui
ck.”

  “No, ye’ won’t,” I countered. “Ye’ say ye’ll be quick, then when we get goin’, ye’ll take your feckin’ time, and ye’ know it.”

  Damien pressed his lips together, and when he smiled, his dimples creased his cheeks.

  “If ye’ get me into our bedroom, ye’ know I’m gonna fall asleep by the time we’re finished, and that means I’ll be where I’m at right now with me sketch. Tonight is the first night in a long while that I’ve gotten a lot done on it.”

  “What if I don’t let you sleep?”

  I deadpanned. “Ye’ll give in to me if I whine that I’m tired, and ye’ know it.”

  Damien didn’t disagree; he only dipped his head to hide his tantalising grin. He brushed the tip of his nose against mine and flexed his hands around my behind. The simple action sent a shiver racing up my spine, and my back involuntarily arched, pushing my breasts against Damien’s chest. He hummed, seemingly satisfied, and before I could tell him to back off, his lips brushed over my jawline, then skimmed down my neck before they latched on my sweet spot where he sucked and flicked his tongue back and forth over the sensitive flesh.

  “Damien.”

  The second I heard how breathless and needy my voice was when I moaned his name, I knew I was a goner.

  “Bedroom,” I rasped. “Now.”

  “No,” he replied, feather kissing my neck. “I wanna fuck you in here.”

  My eyes crossed, too focused on the tingling sensation gifted by his lips.

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Damien nipped my skin with his teeth. “Turn around and bend over.”

  My knees almost buckled beneath me, but when I swallowed and had control of myself, I turned around and shamelessly pushed my behind against Damien’s erect cock, making him hiss. A smirk curved at my lips, but it was wiped away when I was bent forward over my desk, and Damien’s hand came down and swatted my behind. I yelped in surprise.

  “Damien!”

  He chuckled, darkly. “That’ll teach you to tease me.”

  “I can’t believe ye’ just—Damien!”

  The invasion of his warm, wet tongue against my underwear had me balling my hands into fists. I groaned out loud when my knickers were tugged to the side, and Damien licked up and down my slit before he plunged his tongue deep inside me. I bucked my hips back against his face, and he chuckled.

  “You always try to fuck my mouth when I have you positioned like this.”

  “Because,” I hissed, “it feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

  His hands moved up to my behind, and he squeezed me.

  “Let me hear you,” Damien said before he resumed his toe-curling torture.

  I couldn’t contain my moans if someone had paid me to do so. I was sure I could give a porn star a run for her money, and when I once told Damien that, he wholeheartedly agreed. I was not a silent lover, and Damien loved that.

  “Damien,” I rasped. “Please, no more. Just fuck me already.”

  Usually, I loved when he tongued me to orgasm, but at times, I just needed to have him fuck me into bliss. This was one of those times. I licked my lips when his mouth moved upwards. He kissed my arse, then my lower back, pushing my shirt upwards as he moved. Then he fisted his hand in my hair and tugged on it until my back was arched.

  “I love fucking you when your spine is curved like this,” Damien hummed as he flattened his palm on my lower back. “Keep that arch.”

  When he suddenly thrust into me, I lost the arch for about a second before Damien tugged on my hair once more until I got it back.

  “I’m gonna kill you for pullin’ me … fuck! Do it harder!”

  Damien’s chuckle was low as he fucked me and pulled my hair at the same time. I never like my hair being touched until he set a steady pace and my body confused the stinging pain with pleasure. It wasn’t much, but it gave me a thrill each time he pulled on it and slammed into me at the same time.

  “Do you know how fucking sexy it is to watch my cock slide in and out of you?” Damien grunted as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the silent room. “I want to bite your ass when your flesh jiggles as I slam into you. Christ, you really are … so. Fucking. Sexy.”

  I pushed back against him, earning a hiss and another swat to my behind.

  “So demanding,” Damien mused.

  I reached down to my parted thighs and played with my clit as he fucked me, and when I brought myself to the edge of an orgasm, my body became tense.

  “I love you,” he rasped. “You’re about to come. I can feel you tighten around … Fu … uck.”

  I drew in a sharp breath as my orgasm slammed into me and spread out over my body like molten lava. The heated bliss wrapped around my muscles and soothed them until they were soft like jelly. I heard my cries, my screams and pleas for Damien to fuck me harder, to prolong the sensation of delight that filled me. I could feel bites of pain mixed in with my pleasure, and it only heightened the experience. When the pulses slowed, and the pleasure slowly faded, only relaxation and exhaustion remained.

  “Good girl.” Damien panted as he withdrew from me and placed a kiss on each arse cheek. “Fuck, that felt awesome.”

  “Why am I a good girl?” I asked, my eyes closed as I continued to lay spread out over my desk. “What’d I do?”

  “You tightened your pussy muscles when I asked you to,” Damien replied. “It made me come harder.”

  I hummed. “I didn’t even hear ye’ ask me that.”

  “You didn’t?”

  I shook my head.

  “Are you … Don’t you dare fall asleep on your desk!”

  I groaned as he pulled me upright, and he laughed when I turned and sagged against him.

  “I told ye’ I’d be tired and sleepy. I told ye’ so.”

  I didn’t even make a sound when Damien lifted me into his arms and carried me into our bathroom where I tiredly cleaned myself up. A little light from the approaching sunrise peeked in through a slit in our bedroom curtains, but neither of us got up to fix them once we got into bed. I snuggled against Damien, and once I threw my leg over his body and my arm over his stomach, anything but sleeping became impossible.

  “I love you, freckles.”

  I was already falling asleep, and Damien’s soft laughter was the last thing I heard.

  We both managed to sleep for a few hours until our responsibilities forced us to get up—Barbara and Damien’s job. We were both lounging about in our sitting room on our settee, snuggled next to each other. Both of us were on our phones. I was working, and Damien was scrolling through Facebook.

  “I think I’ve found a new assistant.”

  The words had barely left my mouth before Damien snatched my phone from my hands to study the profile of the woman I was considering to hire to run my website and handle my hectic email and calendar online. I didn’t get mad; I simply folded my arms across my chest and waited. He needed to read up on this new person who would possibly be entering my life so he knew every detail about her to relax himself. It was the least I could do, considering how against he was about me finding a new assistant in the first place.

  “It’s an online job this time,” Damien said, looking from the phone to me, “right?”

  My lips twitched.

  “Right.” I nodded. “I’m confident she isn’t a ghost from your shady past comin’ back to haunt ye’ by gettin’ inside me head and turnin’ me against your family. I think that only happens once in a lifetime, love.”

  Damien scowled at my teasing, not in the slightest bit impressed, and returned his attention to the device in his hand.

  “It happened before, so it could happen again.”

  I wanted to say with confidence that he was wrong, but I couldn’t. The truth was that Morgan Allen, who was really Carter Miles—a once childhood friend of Damien hell-bent on revenge—made it an easy task to turn me against the Slater brothers in order to hurt them for the murder of his brother and uncle. Morgan had entered my li
fe and my home with a shocking amount of ease. I knew Damien was scared that another person with ulterior motives could possibly do the same, but I believed I wasn’t as naïve as I once was. The things I now knew about Damien and his family, the things I had learned about while being too trusting with Morgan, were always front and centre in my mind. I learned a lot from that experience, and while it emotionally ruined me for a while, I wouldn’t change it for the world.

  It helped me grow as a person, even if I was struggling as of late with nightmares because of it.

  “Morgan isn’t comin’ back,” I said, repeating the same thing I had told Damien a million times in the six months since Morgan left our lives after he turned it upside down. “Ye’ heard ‘im. He just wanted to manipulate me and turn me against ye’ because he knew it would hurt you and your brothers.”

  “He succeeded for a time, Alannah,” Damien said, his jaw tight. “I just thank God you saw through his bullshit and saw my truth.”

  I thanked God for that, too.

  “Would ye’ feel better if it was someone we know who helped me?”

  That got my better half’s full attention.

  “Who do you have in mind?”

  “Bronagh,” I answered with a shrug. “She’s surprisingly handy on a computer; she’s been helpin’ me since everythin’ with Morgan went to shite. The only thing I can credit ‘im with is how organised he made everythin’. Me and Bee have just been followin’ the system he set up, and it’s workin’ a charm. I’ve never had so many clients book me in advance. I mean, ye’ve seen me calendar. I’m booked for the next seven months with projects. The only time I can make room for someone is when I have a cancelation.”

  The second I finished speaking, Damien leaned over and surprised me by covering my mouth with his. When he pulled back, I blinked.

  “Not that I don’t love you kissin’ me whenever ye’ want, but what was that for?”

  “For suggesting Bee help you instead of a stranger,” he answered, and I could see the relief in his grey eyes. “Please hire her. It will make me feel immensely better if Bronagh helps you and not a newcomer.”

  He just made my decision for me.