When I was a horny teenager, sometimes I’d wake up and find myself humping the ever-loving shit out of my bed. The night after Sabrina’s blow job? Same. Only it wasn’t some big-titted porn actress I was fucking in this particular scenario. When I woke up, I had only one thought on my mind—Sabrina.

I called off the sexual assault of my mattress and rolled over onto my back, my hard-on saluting the morning with a stiff wave. Can we go again? Her voice played over in my mind, her swollen lips and teary eyes stamped in my memory. Jesus.

I gripped my cock, already on the verge of exploding. With a few quick strokes and the mental image of her lips wrapped around my shaft, I came all over my stomach. But it didn’t stop my need for her. Right then she was probably asleep in her Hello Kitty palace. Lying on her back. Maybe with her legs spread just enough for me to get a peek. But if I got a peek, I’d want a taste, and if I got a taste, I’d want a fuck, and if I got a fuck, I’d want another. I’d be trapped in the “If You Give an Asshole a Cookie” scenario, and I’d always want a glass of milk.

Instead of creeping on her, I showered and dressed, then headed downstairs. The sun was barely up when I found Peter standing in the hallway staring out the back windows toward the pool.

“What’s up?”

“Training.”

I followed his gaze. David and Sabrina circled each other on the square of grass next to the pool. Sabrina’s hands were up, her knees bent. She’d braided her hair down her back and wore a sports bra and athletic shorts. Where was her t-shirt? I resisted the urge to slap my hand over Peter’s eyes.

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s nothing.” I shrugged it off. “It’ll be healed up in no time.” Thanks to Sabrina’s doctoring.

David lunged for her. She wasn’t prepared for it. He got her into a choke hold with ease, though she tried to throw her elbow back into his ribs. After a few moments, he released her and coached her. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head slightly to the side, listening and learning.

“She’s already doing better than she was fifteen minutes ago.”

My eyes narrowed. “You’ve been watching her for fifteen minutes?”

He chuckled. “She’s yours, boss. Don’t worry.”

Yes, she is. “No. She’s not going to be part of this life. She’s going to college, getting away from here.”

He turned to me, his lip twitching in a smile. “It didn’t look like that when she was sitting in your lap last night.”

I waved a hand. “That was just to comfort her. She’d tried to save Will, so she was, you know, sad and shit.”

“Right.” His tone told me he wasn’t convinced.

And I wasn’t about to elaborate on what further activities went on in my office after he left. It was time for a subject change. “Heard any word from your sources?”

“Not yet. It’s early, though. Things are bound to be shaky today. And the Russians are definitely hurting, given last night. I might have to wait for it all to settle before I can start pushing again.”

The kitchen door opened behind us, and Opal shuffled out with a coffee decanter. “Morning, boys.”

“Morning,” we chimed in unison.

“Breakfast will be up in half an hour.” She continued into the dining room as George approached from the foyer.

“House is quiet.” He glanced past me at Sabrina who was, once again, caught in David’s beefy arms. “I just walked the drive to the gate and back to be sure. Everything’s in order.”

“You didn’t stay up all night, did you?” Peter asked.

“No. Tony was on the door. I’m just here to relieve him for the day shift.” His eyes wandered to Sabrina again.

“Get to it, then,” I barked.

His eyes met mine, then he dropped them in deference. “Yes, sir.”

Once he’d walked out of earshot, Peter’s irritating chuckle met my ears again. “Nobody’s after your girl.”

“George needs to stop looking at her.” I slowly unclenched my fists, trying—and failing—to relax.

His chuckle grew into a laugh, his shoulders shaking.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

“George isn’t interested in Sabrina.”

Not possible. I studied her through the glass, the sun in her hair and the plump ass beneath the light blue gym shorts. No man in his right mind wouldn’t want her.

Peter clapped his hand on my shoulder. “George may be a general skeeze toward women, but he only has eyes for you.”

My mouth went dry. “What?”

“Come on, you know.” Peter gave me a wink.

“No, I don’t.”

“Really?” He grinned. “George swings both ways, but he sends you these longing looks all the damn time. Even David’s noticed.”

I glanced at George in the foyer. He looked away quickly. Oh, hell. Back in the day when I was banging his sister, he did seem to hang around more than was normal—saying hi to me and shit while I was trying to sneak out the back door. Still, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. “You’re shitting me.”

Peter shook his head. “Nope.”

I smoothed my hand down my suit jacket. “I mean, it makes sense. Look at me, for Chrissakes. You probably fantasize about me just as much as George does. Always wanking off to thoughts of me. You can’t help it when you have to be around this fine package all day. Did I tell you about that time I suspected ol’ killer Conrad had gone gay for me?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m glad you haven’t changed.”

“Your mom is too.”

He punched me in my good arm before turning and heading toward the front door.

“What’s on your agenda for the day?” I asked.

“Resupply. We went through a shit ton of ammo at the dock. I’m going to hit up Sam at the garage. Get some more bullets, and see if he has any new toys for us to use against the Russians.” Sam was an old hand at the mafia game and ran a legit garage that hid a not-so-legit chop shop and a gun smuggling enterprise. “I’ll be back before Colum and his boys show up for the meeting this afternoon.”

“Right.” I hadn’t forgotten the Irish were coming to visit, but with all the craziness, it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. My spirits sagged at the thought of them lording around my office, pretending that they were the belle of the bullshit ball. “They’ll want to hear all about last night.”

“And they’re going to be hardasses about the rat.”

“I don’t blame them there. We need to solidify our organization before we can expect anyone to join forces with us.” I rubbed my temples.

“Right.” He buttoned his suit coat. “Fucking sucks, though.”

“No shit.” I re-focused on Sabrina. She was dancing out of David’s reach, but she almost tripped over her own feet.

“Later.” Peter’s footsteps receded as I watched Sabrina try and fail to escape David. Her balance was off, she wasn’t anticipating his moves, and she needed to get lower.

I slid my coat off, tossed it on the back of the couch in my office, and unbuttoned my cuffs. The cool morning air hit me as I pushed through the glass door leading to the yard and pool. The grass was still damp with dew as the pool sparkled under the first rays of light.

Sabrina was caught in a choke hold, David laughing as she clawed at his arm. “Asshole!” She stomped his foot, but he didn’t move, just kept her steady as she struggled and ultimately gave up.

“Let me give it a shot.” I finished rolling up my sleeves.

David let her go and she whirled to face me. Her cheeks were pink from the exertion, and a sheen of sweat covered her forehead.

“Have at it. It’s too easy for me.” David smirked and strode past me as Sabrina gave him the finger.

When he disappeared into the house, she asked, “What about your arm?”

“It’s fine.” It ached, but when I’d changed the bandages after my shower, the wound was already scabbing over. “You need the handicap. Though you’ll still lose.”

“Is every man in this house a cocky asshole?” She put her hands up and circled me.

“I think you know I’m the cockiest.” I grinned and feinted toward her.

She stumbled back, then got her feet beneath her again and shot me a scowl. “Cheap.”

I shrugged. She jumped.

“You need to relax.”

“Relax?” She shook her head.

“Yeah. You’re on a hair trigger. You’ll exhaust yourself, jump at the wrong things, and wind up hog tied by Dmitri.”

She flinched.

“Sorry.” I held my hands up. “I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. So let’s work on it, all right?”

Shaking her hands out, she nodded.

“You need to be relaxed but aware, if that makes sense. Watch everything, calculate, figure out what your opponent is doing before he does it. Look for tells.” I put my fists up. “A lot of the time, he’ll lean whichever way he intends to go. It’s simple, but it works. Watch the body language. Are his hands in fists? Then you need to splay your fingers to try and block or slap his arms away. Are his hands open? Then he’s going to grapple you. Like this.” I darted forward, grabbed her arm, and flipped her over my hip.

She landed on her back, all the air whooshing out of her. Her scent mixed with the smell of fresh grass. Glaring, she got back to her feet.

My arm stung like a son-of-a-bitch, but I’d be damned if I’d let it show. “Watch me. See if I telegraph anything.” I backed away a few steps and put up my fists.

She opened her hands.

“Bend more at the knees. Get lower. It’ll help you be more explosive.”

“I’m low.” She watched my hands.

I feinted right, then ran hard left, punching out and missing her face by a few inches.

“You missed.”

“On purpose. I could have knocked your teeth out.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You need more practice.”

“It’s my first day.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Right.” I stood straight and still. “Take my knee out.”

“What?”

“You want to take a man down, the easiest way is to take out a knee or go for the crotch. You need to focus on those areas.” I waved her toward me. “Break my knee.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What if I hurt you?”

I laughed. “Not a fucking chance.”

She scowled and took a big step, bringing her right foot up to crush my knee.

I sidestepped and pulled her to me, her back to my front, my good arm locked around her waist. “Too slow.” I wanted to lick the sweat from her neck.

She threw her head back. Stars bloomed in my vision when she made contact with my chin, jarring me. I let her go.

Grinning, she backed away. “David taught me that one. Apparently, most people have a nerve in their jaw that, when hit, can knock them out.”

I rubbed my chin. “Glass jaw.”

“Right.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, her breasts shaking with the movement, her nipples hard beneath the fabric. “Want more?”

I want it all. My cock agreed, going from semi to full mast with a single pump of my heart. No, no, no.

“Come at me, bro.” I tweaked my nose with my thumb.

She stepped forward, feinted right, and kicked out toward my crotch. Missed by a mile, thank god.

“Not bad, but you have to move faster.”

She wiped a stray hair from her face, then rushed me when she was halfway through the movement.

I dodged, laughter bubbling in my chest. “Misdirection. I like it.”

She made a grrrr noise and wrinkled her nose. “You move too fast.”

“That’s what all the girls say. Then they drop their panties.”

She roared and charged me. Her small fists thunked against my chest until I grabbed them and wrenched her arms behind her back.

“You can’t act out of anger. It makes you sloppy, unfocused. Plan ahead.”

“I can’t when you talk about other women you’ve fucked!” Her eyes glistened as she yelled into my face.

“Hit a nerve?” I let her go.

“What if I changed my mind about saving it for you and got on my back for the next guy I see?”

Daaaaaamn. My hands balled into fists at the thought of another man touching her. She rushed forward and shot her knee toward my junk. I backed away just in time.

“Anger makes you sloppy,” she parroted, a little smile of triumph playing across her lips.

I lunged forward and captured her in my arms. She squealed and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking as I lifted her off her feet and pushed her up against the stone side of the house. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and before I could reason with myself, I kissed her. Hard and rough, the cost/benefit analysis nowhere in sight, I plunged my tongue into her mouth—owning her as she melted against me, her arms wrapping around my neck.

Reaching between us, I flattened my palm against her pussy. She was burning up for me, her body open and wet. I removed my hand and ground my cock against her.

I told myself to stop, to put her down, to keep my dick as far away from her as possible. But I didn’t listen. Instead, I dry fucked her against the wall.

She made small noises that I devoured, each thrust of my hips had her rubbing against me, chasing a burst of pleasure that I wouldn’t give her. Not like this.