Burr opened her door, and Tierney climbed into the passenger seat, sitting down with a huff and buckling her seat belt with an angry click.

That did not go well, she thought. But she wouldn’t apologize for what she’d said. She’d never apologize.

She watched as Burr walked back up the driveway to the stoop, speaking to his mother for a few minutes. His mother reached out and hugged him hard before he turned around and headed back to the car.

As he turned, Sheila O’Leary looked for Tierney, searching for her eyes through the windshield and waving to her. Tierney mustered a polite smile and waved back. It wasn’t her fault. Burr’s father, Frank O’Leary, was the horse’s ass.

Burr opened the driver’s-side door and sat down, resting his hands on the steering wheel for a moment before turning to her.

“Wow, Tierney. Just…wow.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, taking his surprise for censure. “I should have stayed quiet, but I couldn’t—”

Burr reached for her face, his hand landing on her jaw as he pulled her close and kissed her with a wellspring of deep and intense emotion. His tongue tangled with hers, his lips demanding and giving at once, his breath tasting faintly of Killian’s beer.

When he drew back, his chest heaved, and his eyes were almost black. “You were…God, you were amazing!”

“I couldn’t let your Dad talk to you like that,” she whispered.

“For the record,” he said, leaning away to turn the key and back out of his sister’s driveway, “my mother said I should marry you.”

Tierney grinned at him, the outlandish suggestion making her smile for the first time in the past thirty minutes.

When they’d arrived, Burr had knocked on the door, and when his mother, Sheila, had answered, she’d enveloped Burr into a massive hug, clutching at her son, crying and laughing at the same time, and saying Burr’s name over and over again.

He’d dropped Tierney’s hand to hug his mother back, and watching at his side, Tierney had been on the verge of tears, deeply moved by the mother-son reunion and encouraged that the rest of Burr’s family would be just as happy to see him.

Well…that’s where she’d been wrong.

Though his sister, Suzanne, still convalescing on the couch in the living room, had burst into tears, reaching for Burr and hugging him with the devotion Tierney felt he was due, Frank O’Leary and Connor Riley had looked on, stoic and uncompromising, from the corner of the room.

“So you’re back,” spat Burr’s father, tossing a rude look at Tierney. “And who’s this piece?”

“Be civil,” warned Burr.

His father had nodded curtly at Tierney.

“This is Tierney Haven,” said Burr. “Tierney, this is my father, Frank O’Leary.”

“Hello,” said Tierney.

“And my brother-in-law, Connor.”

“Hi Connor,” she’d said.

Neither offered a hand to shake, and both looked at her with some measure of disdain.

“What’re you doing with him?” asked Connor, crossing his arms over his chest. “You should call an Uber and get away from here before you get shot or worse.”

“Con, come on,” said Suzanne from the couch.

Mrs. O’Leary had returned from the kitchen with a tray of open beers and a bowl of peanuts. “We weren’t expecting company, but why don’t you sit down, Tierney? Tierney. That’s Irish.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, taking the beer offered and sitting in the chair Mrs. O’Leary had indicated, with Burr standing beside her. “My mother’s from Killarney.”

“Ah. Is she, now? Frank and I are both from Limerick.”

“That’s what Burr said,” Tierney answered, taking a small sip of the cold beer.

“So you’ve come back,” said Frank, staring at Burr with disgust. “Got a pound of flesh from your sister. What else can we do for you?”

“Pop, I was hoping that I could explain—”

“Oh!” said Frank, turning to his son-in-law, his cheeks red with anger. “He has an explanation, Connor. You see, there? He has a reason his sister was shot in her front doorway by that pig, Sean Shanahan.”

Sheila sighed. “Frank, let’s listen to what Burr has to—”

“I don’t give a shite what he has to say. He was arrested for dealing, Sheila. I know it breaks yer bloody heart, but the boy’s garbage.”

“Pop, listen. I was undercover with the New Kil—”

“Ha! Liar!” yelled Frank. “If you was undercover, boyo, my friend, Liam Donnelley, would’ve bloody well let me know.”

“It was Captain Donnelley swore me to secrecy,” said Burr, his voice even and low, though his fingers were fisting at his sides.

“Ná bí ag iarraidh cluain an chacamais a chur orm!” Frank bellowed. Don’t bullshit me! His eyes slid to Tierney as he pointed at Burr with one stubby finger. “Yer man, here, is right puir trash.” He turned back to Burr. “Ní mórán thú.” You’re worthless.

Burr inhaled sharply beside Tierney, looking down at her. “We should go.”

“No, son,” said Sheila, wringing her hands. “Your father’s just…just…”

Suzanne spoke up. “Pop, please! Can we just listen to what he has to—”

“To say?” demanded Connor. “You got shot by Sean Shanahan in front of our daughter, Suze. And the only reason Sean was here is because he was looking for your fucking brother. Now here he comes, three years after disappearing, talking about being undercover? You’re not buying this shite, are you?”

“Sean Shanahan was arrested two days ago,” said Suzanne, her blue eyes furious. “Did you know that, Con?”

“Everyone in Dorchester knows it,” he muttered.

“So you don’t think it’s a little bit of a coincidence that we don’t see Burr for three years, and now Sean’s been arrested and he’s back? Just listen to him! What’ll it hurt you?”

“Me? Nothing. But you, darlin’? You’re my wife, and God knows why after what he’s done, but you still love him. And if I let him in here to feed you pretty lies, it’ll—”

“They’re not lies,” growled Burr. “I was undercover with the New Killeens for three years. The original drug bust was arranged to discredit me.”

“Everyone and their brother knows you been runnin’ with the Shanahans for years!” said Frank. “Seen you strong-armin’ good men down on their luck, and God only knows what other foul deeds. Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú! There’s no room in this family for you!”

“Bí ‘do thost!” Tierney yelled, jumping to her feet as she told Frank O’Leary to shut up. “Burr is a good man! He was undercover. He gave up three years of his life to put those bastards away, and he’s only back here in bloody, godforsaken Boston to testify at the arraignment tomorrow and make sure they don’t get bail. If you don’t believe me, show up tomorrow at the courthouse and you’ll see. And if not…if not…then go hifreann leat, you old bastard!”

And that was the moment Burr had stepped between Tierney and his father, putting his arm around her shoulders and escorting out of the house and back to the car.

Perhaps telling Frank O’Leary to go to hell was a bit harsh, but she couldn’t bear the way he’d spoken to Burr, calling his own son garbage, and trash, and worthless.

“He was calling you names,” she said softly.

“He doesn’t know the full story yet. He’s confused.”

“No one has a right to call you names.”

“Tierney,” he said, reaching for her hand, “my avenging angel.”

“At least your mom and sister seemed glad to see you.”

He nodded. “It did me good to see them too.”

“I’m sorry I called your father a bastard. I’m sure he’s…not. In better circumstances.”

He chuckled softly, squeezing her hand before releasing it. “Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph, his face. He was so shocked.”

“By the Irish or what I said?”

“You walked in looking like an angel and left yelling like a banshee.”

She took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“Aisling,” he said, braking at a red light and looking over at her. “You were magnificent. The most amazing woman I’ve ever known. You didn’t embarrass me. I couldn’t have been more proud of you.”

“Truly?”

He nodded. “I promise.”

“But your father—”

“Probably respects the hell out of you. Probably likes you more than me,” he said, but the pain of his father’s rejection slipped into his tone. After a few minutes of driving in silence, he added, “At least that’s over now. There’s a relief in that.”

“And next time will be better,” she said.

“I hope so,” he said. “Anyway, thanks for being there, Tierney.”

“I’m glad I was there.”

The bright lights of Boston illuminated the twilight sky ahead, and suddenly Tierney realized that if one part of the night was over, the other was just about to begin. She glanced over at Burr who seemed to be having the same realization.

“Do you, um…want to get dinner somewhere?” he asked. “We could stop on the way back to the hotel.”

No. She didn’t. There was only one thing she wanted.

“I’m not hungry,” she said.

“Me neither,” he said, then added, “not for food.”

Unexpected butterflies filled her tummy as her heart started thumping, and she took a deep breath.

He reached across the center bolster, taking her hand and drawing it to her lips. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I don’t want to change my mind,” she said. “I want to be with you.”

He kissed her hand again, then dropped them both to the bolster, his fingers winding through hers. “You remember earlier today, before I left to see Donnelley, when you said I was acting weird?”

“Mm-hm.”

“That was me…being nervous.”

“You?” She turned to look at him. “But this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But the entire time I was under with the New Killeens, I didn’t…that is, I mean…I didn’t sleep with anyone.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “I was concerned that if I fell asleep next to someone, I might talk in my sleep. Betray who I really was and what I was really doing there.”

“So you haven’t…”

“I haven’t had sex in over three years,” he said, shifting in his seat as they neared the hotel. “And it’s been a long three years.”

“I always understood that for men…I mean, sex is something they need.”

“I can’t speak for how the needs of a woman differ from those of a man, but I can tell you that I”—he laughed bitterly—“certainly missed it. I’m ready for tonight, Tierney. Long past ready.”

“Me too,” she said. “You know, just because I haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to. I just wanted to feel…” She thought about what she wanted to say, but the only words that came to mind were these: “…the way you make me feel.”

“So you’ve been waiting for me, then, aisling?” he asked, his voice soft and reverent.

“I think so,” she said as he pulled into the semicircle in front of the hotel.

“Then it should come as no surprise,” he said, “that I’ve been waiting for you too.”

Two valet attendants opened their doors, and they exited the car, joining hands again as they walked through the glass doors opened for them. The stood in silence as Burr pressed the button for the elevator, the connection between them palpable, electrifying, like if anyone stepped too close or—God forbid—between them, they’d be fried by the live current that bound them.

In the elevator, Tierney stared straight ahead at the closed doors, not daring to look at Burr for fear that she’d leap into his arms, and once there, never let go. She glanced up at the security camera in the corner of the small box and grimaced. The door opened, and Burr pulled her onto the eighteenth floor.

Without speaking, they walked quickly down the hall to their room, Burr only dropping her hand to take the keycard from his back pocket and tap it against the reader. The light turned green, the mechanics whooshed, and Burr pushed down on the lever, opening the door to their dark room, illuminated by the brilliant lights of Boston.

The moment the door closed behind them, his arms reached for her, turning her around and pulling her against his chest. His lips came down on hers, hard and demanding, like a thirsty man in the desert, his tongue slipping between her waiting lips, his groan throaty and deep as he sighed with relief.

She wound her arms around his neck, and he slipped his hands under her bottom, lifting her easily. Tierney held him tightly, wrapping her legs around his waist and arching her breasts into his chest as he walked into the room carrying her.

When he reached the bed, he turned, sitting on the edge with Tierney straddling his lap, her pelvis intimately pressed against his erection, which throbbed against her. Sliding her hands down the back of his T-shirt, she dragged it up, and Burr paused in kissing her for a split second, holding her with one hand as he reached behind his neck to pull it off. With his chest bare, he started kissing her again, but Tierney wanted to feel him.

She reached for his hand. “Unzip my dress.”

“We can go slow, love.”

“I don’t want to go slow,” she panted. “Unzip it.”

“I don’t want to rush things for you,” he said, moving his fingers to the top of the zipper, his eyes dark and dilated as he looked into hers.

“I’m twenty-seven years old,” she said, laughing softly. “Nothing’s been rushed, Burr.”

With a soft chuckle, he pushed her hair aside and pulled down the zipper, the teeth giving way as the little straps drooped down her shoulders. Tierney wiggled out of them, and her dress bunched around her waist, leaving her bare, except for her bra. Burr’s fingers landed on the clasp, tentative, waiting for permission.

“Off,” she murmured, her chest heaving as he flicked her bra open. Reaching for it, she pulled it from her arms. Naked, chest to chest, they collided, their lips bruising, their tongues demanding, the stiff points of her breasts digging into the muscled wall of his chest as they kissed.

She dug her knees into the comforter, sliding her sex as flush against his as possible, but she was frustrated by the clothing between them. She wanted more. She wanted him.

Pushing against his shoulders, Tierney’s feet dropped to the floor, her dress falling from her waist to pool around her bare feet and leaving her standing before him in her light blue underwear. She licked her lips, staring at his throat, wanting to look him in the eye but suddenly shy.

“Tierney, aisling, a ghra mo chroi,” he whispered, woman of my heart, “look at me.”

She raised her gaze to his, her naked breasts heaving gently with her shallow breaths.

“You are…the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, in all my life.”

He reached for her waist, pulling her back between his legs. Bending his head, his tongue circled the sensitive skin around her nipple, and she gasped, reaching for the back of his head to draw him closer. He took her nipple, hard and throbbing, between his lips and sucked gently, his tongue flicking the stiff bud until she cried softly. He skimmed his lips across her chest to her other breast, one hand reaching up to tease the soaked nipple he’d already loved as he sucked its twin between his lips. As he licked one and rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger, Tierney felt a swirling in her stomach—hot and urgent—the sensations fanning out lower to her groin, where the heat pooled, pulsing and demanding.

“I want you,” she panted. “Burr, please. I want…I want…”

Releasing her breasts, he stood before her, clasping her cheeks and sealing his lips over hers. As they kissed, his hands skated down her arms to her hands, gently taking them in his and pulling them to the button and fly of his jeans.

Her fingers worked quickly, opening his pants before sliding into the waistband of his boxers to land on his soft, hot skin. Sliding her down to his hips, forced his jeans and underwear down, and used his feet to pull them the rest of the way to his ankles, kicking them onto the floor.

She took his fingers as he had hers, pulling them to the seam of her panties before winding her arms back around his neck. He shoved once, hard, and the panties slid to the floor. His hands landed on her bottom, and he lifted her again. And Tierney, who’d never been completely naked with another man in her entire life, spread her legs and wrapped them around Burr’s waist as he laid her down on the bed and fell on top of her gently.

The glorious weight of his body pressed her against the bed, and he surged against her, his erection sliding into her hot, slick folds and massaging her clit. She panted, holding him tighter, the heat that had built before, while he’d loved her breasts, on fire now.

“Tierney,” he panted, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’ll only hurt a bit,” she said.

With her legs still locked around his waist, Burr reached for the bedside table and pulled out a foil package he must have placed there earlier. He reached behind, gently seizing her ankle and unlocking it. Then he pushed off the bed and stood naked at the foot of it, moonlight and ambient light showing her the hills and valleys of his muscled body. Her eyes slid lower, to his cock, which stood tall and proud from his body. He followed her eyes, staring down at that throbbing part of himself before demanding her eyes.

“Tierney?”

“Hmm? Yes?” She snapped her eyes up, leaning on her elbow.

“You’re sure?” he asked, ripping open the condom with his teeth and rolling the thin latex over his erection. He held the stiff flesh in his hand, staring at her.

She nodded. “I want this. I want you inside me. I need you so badly, Burr.”

He knelt back down on the bed, and Tierney spread her legs. Leaning forward he kissed her, slowly, gently, his tongue bathing hers reverently before he reached up to cradle her face, the tip of his sex lining up perfectly with her own.

“Do it,” she said. “Do it quick.”

He winced, his breathing ragged. “It’ll hurt.”

“I don’t care.” She moved her hands to his back, then slid them to his ass. “Now.”

Surging forward with one hard thrust, he pushed through any waiting barrier, making her cry out in pain as he embedded himself deeply within her.

“Tierney?” he panted, holding still. “Are you…are you okay?”

“You were right. It hurts,” she whimpered, wiggling a little to find relief.

“Stay still, love,” he said, keeping himself completely and utterly motionless inside of her. “Relax. Breathe.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the walls of her sex relax, then stretch, for him. She could feel him throbbing inside of her, his pulsing flesh massaging the sensitive walls of her sex. She closed her eyes and felt his heartbeat, deep inside of her. And it was so arousing, the pain slipped away, until all she felt was him.

He kissed her jaw and her throat, murmuring sweet things in Irish as her fingers, which had probably drawn blood, relaxed, sliding up his back to the base of his neck. Drawing back, he looked into her eyes. “Better now?”

“Better,” she sighed, moving her hips experimentally and watching his face as his eyes closed tightly as though he was in pain. “What do you need?”

“To move,” he grunted, staying still inside of her.

She arched her back again, and he grunted, the sound primordial, her hips moving again in response.

“Then move,” she panted.

“Look at me,” he said, opening his eyes as he slid slowly from her before surging forward to fill her again. “I…Tierney, I…feel more for you than I have ever felt. For anyone. I want…I want so much…with you. Time. Life. Love. More.”

His body pulled back and surged forward again, making her eyes close with pleasure, her feet sliding up the back of his legs to hold him within her. Love.

She felt it too.

“Burr. A chéadsearc,” she panted.

“A chéadsearc,” he repeated, his eyes brightening at the seriousness of the word she’d chosen. “First in your heart.”

Tierney nodded, confirming her feelings, confirming that he was, literally and figuratively, her first. First to claim her body, and first in her heart.

Cupping her face, he kissed her madly, their bodies moving in tandem, giving and taking, welcoming and warm, in the age-old, always-new dance of bodies loving each other for the first time.

“Aisling,” he panted near her ear, his hips moving quickly, the elbows on either side of her head shaking, his muscles coiled and taut as he readied for release. “I’m waiting for you. Come with me, love.”

In the end, it was the word, more than anything else, that hastened her own climax. She didn’t know what the future held for her and Burr, but she felt certain, in that beautiful moment, that they would figure it out. How many had started with even less of a foundation than us?

Tierney tightened her legs around him, arching her back as waves of heat broke over her like a blessing, like music, like release. And her Burr joined her, crying out her name as he came, clutching her to his chest like he never, ever wanted to let her go.