Our Wicked Cravings (available on Galatea)

Fidgeting with the silk tie on her mask, Mina Fitzpatrick turned down a decadent hallway of the underground sex club, wondering just what the hell she was doing here. Dark red velvet covered the walls, the black trim blending in beautifully with the onyx tile beneath her open-toed stilettos.

She shouldn’t be here.

She should be soaking in a nice, hot bath in her hotel room, relaxing from her long flight earlier that day. Yet she kept her steps light and confident, walking steadily into a room filled with some of Boston’s rich elite in various states of undress.

Masks of different shapes and sizes covered their faces, obscuring every single identity. Vulgar sex acts were being openly performed around her, some people reaching out to grab at her bare arms, intent on tugging her into something carnal.

Mina ignored the grasping hands, searching the room for her friend. She didn’t know where Lucy had gone, but she was eager to leave after less than an hour.

Why had she even come to something like this?

This environment … It wasn’t her.

She found it uncomfortable.

Mina wasn’t a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but she craved intimacy with her sexual partners. A connection. That wasn’t something she’d find here. Not only that, she preferred a girl’s night in or visiting the theatre when she needed to unwind for a few hours.

Not venturing to a secret sex club in the heart of Boston where anything could happen.

But Lucille Hankins, her best friend since childhood, was the complete opposite of Mina. She was adventurous and carefree—as much as she could be in the world they lived in.

She’d convinced Mina to come tonight, assuring her it would be a completely anonymous experience. No one would know who she was, and more importantly, no one would connect her to her family.

That last part had tempted Mina into this outing far more than anything else.

If Mina’s mother knew where she was right now, she’d lose her mind. She’d tell her stepfather, and then he’d tell—

Don’t think about that. Just find Lucy and tell her you’re leaving.

Mina scanned the crowd of people a second time, hoping to see Lucy’s long black hair, or the lingerie set she’d been wearing when they’d gotten separated.

Nothing.

Not one person was familiar, each ornate face mask blending with the next.

At least Mina wouldn’t have to worry about being recognized, either. She’d only just returned to Boston after five blissful years away in Ireland—first in a private school, and then to attend college.

But at twenty-two, with a marketing degree fresh under her belt, her stepfather had insisted she return home after a rather curt phone call. Considering he and his son, Ronan, held ties with the Irish underworld, Mina had been all but helpless to deny her stepfather.

The life she’d lived for half a decade wasn’t really hers, anyway.

Even in Ireland, so far from the syndicate, she’d still had guards watching her every move. She’d been away from her family, but she’d never been free of them.

She hadn’t even been allowed to tell her stepfather ‘no’ when he’d told her to come home.

Instead, she’d booked the next available flight when he’d beckoned her, knowing the life she’d had before was over. Her degree was all but useless, too. Women that belonged to the syndicate didn’t get jobs. They married young and popped out babies, breeding the next line of made men who would eventually take over the syndicate.

It was a miracle she’d even been allowed to attend college; Lucy had been forbidden. An even bigger miracle was that neither of them were married, though they were both of age.

Mina had a sinking suspicion her stepbrother had played a part in making all that happen.

She’d nearly asked about Ronan when her stepfather called earlier in the week with his ‘request,’ but had thought better of it. After five years of nearly no contact, she was more than eager to keep it that way.

At the thought of her stepbrother, her chest constricted, an old familiar ache flaring to life as memories assailed her.

She’d first met Ronan after her mother had announced her engagement to his father, Dougal.

Mina had been fifteen and Ronan had been a handsome and ripped twenty-two. He’d had an aura about him that she’d found irresistible. He was dangerous, ruthless and protective, all qualities that had called to her like a moth to a flame.

She’d been smitten with him from the start, constantly following him around his father’s mansion when he visited, always pestering him with nonsensical questions. When she’d turned sixteen, her questions had morphed into flirting—not that he’d reciprocated.

He’d always been a stoic, no nonsense man, and even though his father was the boss of the Irish syndicate in Boston, it was Ronan that Dougal looked to for everything.

Of course, a man like Ronan would never be interested in the advances of a young woman. Especially not one who shamelessly flirted with him, too immature and naïve to realize how pathetic she must have seemed.

Looking back on it now, her behavior as a teenager was so embarrassing.

How had he ever kept a straight face when she’d all but thrown herself at him? Given how harsh he could be with others, he’d never once made her feel bad for the crush she’d so obviously had on him. He’d never encouraged her at that age, but he hadn’t disrespected her either.

He’d always treated her like a princess.

Until one fateful day, just before her eighteenth birthday. She’d gone too far, pushed Ronan too much.

What she’d done had changed the course of her life forever. She’d known better than to tempt Ronan’s wrath, and yet she’d done it with a smile on her face.

She still remembered the feel of blood on her hands from that day. The smell of that metallic odor as she’d tried desperately to clean the red stain from her skin.

Refusing to dwell on that any longer, Mina stepped around a naked couple fucking on the ground, the moans and wet slaps of flesh causing small spouts of desire to rise within her.

Despite her reservations about this place, there was something so erotic, so enticing, in witnessing such raw displays of sex that Mina felt her face flush beneath her mask as her breaths quickened.

Maybe she should find a random stranger and just have her way with him. Be as daring as Lucy, for once.

What would that be like, to throw caution to the wind and just live for a few hours?

Wasn’t that the point of coming here tonight?

A small thrill went through her at the thought, but it would be difficult to step so far out of her comfort zone to solicit a stranger for sex, even here. How did one go about propositioning another?

She hadn’t attempted anything like that in years. Not since she second year in college.

She wasn’t the sort to be so wanton, not anymore, and she didn’t think she had the confidence for something so blatantly carnal.

Why had she even come here tonight? The question kept replaying in her head, over and over. She should have just told Lucy she was busy.

Mina stepped into another room, this one darker than the last. The sofas were backless and wide, no doubt capable of seating multiple partners. A few men lounged along the sectional and some luxurious looking loveseats, watching a woman on a small stage grind atop a man. Both were naked, the man groaning as she rode him.

The woman probably would have been groaning, too, if another man’s cock wasn’t stuffed in her mouth. Still, what noises she could make were heavy with lust as she bounced on one cock and stroked the base of the other. The sight had Mina’s nipples tightening, and desire pooling low in her belly.

She quickly looked away from the spectacle, scanning the new room for Lucy.

A man in a suit spotted her at the door, and stood from the sectional, making his way to her. His silver mask flashed in the low lighting as he drew near.

“Lose your way, darlin’? Or perhaps you know exactly who you were hoping to entertain tonight?” The man spoke with a thick Irish accent, not uncommon in Boston, but the tattoos on his hands and neck were out of place for a party like this.

In Boston’s elite, visible ink like that would make someone an outcast, regardless of their wealth.

His words sank in, and it took all of Mina’s strength not to roll her eyes at his blatant ego.

Did he really think she’d come here to seduce him? Even if she was looking for sex, he definitely wasn’t her type. No, her type was brooding, powerful Irishmen who wanted nothing to do with her.

Mina sighed.

It was a mistake attending this party tonight.

Of course it was. You knew that from the beginning, and yet you came here looking for trouble.

Mina shook her head, a strand of her red hair catching in the corner of her mask. “I’m sorry, I was looking for—”

“I know exactly who you were looking for, and let me assure you, he’s not interested in desperate women, no matter how hot you look in that silky little number.”

He eyed her up and down, his stare focusing mainly on the swell of her breasts as he studied her.

Mina nearly bit back her retort, not wanting to piss off her new ‘friend.’ But she was a quick-tempered woman, and it was easier to mouth off than to keep her cool.

“There seems to be a mistake. I can assure you no one in here is worth my time. Not you, and especially not whoever you’re talking about.”

He snickered at that, his voice rising above the sounds of sex on the stage.

“Did you hear that, lads? Seems the little temptress is too good for us.”

All eyes turned toward her then, including the participants on stage.

Mina took a hesitant step back before squaring her shoulders. She wouldn’t allow anyone in here to intimidate her. She was a Fitzpatrick after all, even if not by blood.

“Bring her, Finan,” a deep Irish tenor beckoned from the throne-like loveseat nearest the stage.

She looked in that direction, squinting into the darkness to make out the figure reclining comfortably in his seat. He sounded slightly familiar, but she was sure she’d remember a brogue that deep and sensual.

The man she assumed was Finan grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly toward the figure with the bedroom voice.

“Hey! Get your hands off me.” Mina gave a halfhearted struggle, not used to actually having to defend herself from creeps.

Usually there was a security detail provided to her, men trained to ensure no one touched her; an order that came directly from Ronan—but she’d slipped past them tonight in her eagerness for a night out.

“Let go, creep!” she exclaimed indignantly.

Obliging her, Finan shoved her forward as he released her.

Mina fell to the ground, landing hard on her knees, her chest slamming into the edge of the loveseat. She hissed out in pain, her knees throbbing. The sharp ache was probably why it took her a second too long to realize she was at the feet of the seductive stranger, his thick, muscular legs on either side of her.

Mina lifted her head, her eyes sweeping over every inch of him as the rest of the world faded from view. He wore a pair of black slacks, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing a plethora of tattoos covering his forearms.

He was relaxed back in his seat like a king, watching her from behind a black mask that covered nearly all of his face, aside from his lips and stubbled jaw. Green eyes stared down at her with such a fierce intensity her breath lodged in her throat.

The watch on his wrist cost well over forty grand. A deep green silk vest hugged his burly chest, matching the emerald of his eyes perfectly.

Eyes that seemed so familiar …

For the briefest moment, an image of Ronan flashed through her mind. This guy reminded her of him, but the Ronan she knew wasn’t this buff, and he definitely didn’t have tattoos like this. His accent wasn’t so thick, either. It was subtle, like the undertones of vanilla in a good glass of wine.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw, tattoos and thick silver rings prominently on display on his hand, one more ornate than the rest. Was one ring a family crest?

The stranger was captivating and handsome, even hidden behind his mask. Aside from his appearance, the air around him was malevolent. Dark.

Mina couldn’t help but feel like a fly caught in a spider’s web as he assessed her.

Even worse, her body responded to his inspection, her pulse beating heavily in her ears, her breathing becoming uneven. She forgot all about the pain in her knees as they stared at one another, and her thighs clenched as slick dampened her inner thighs.

She didn’t know why she had such a reaction to him—she’d seen plenty of handsome men before—but a large part of her hoped he didn’t find her lacking. She wanted him to want her, and the notion was as baffling as it was genuine.

Maybe it was this place; the sex happening in every room, especially on the stage. She’d felt desire creeping in since she’d gotten here, and while she’d ignored it at first, now she’d fixated that energy on her stranger.

The room slowly shifted back into focus, all eyes on her and the man she kneeled in front of. The sudden silence was so loud she could have heard a pin drop.

He leaned forward and reached out, one finger dragging along the swell of her breasts, making her hyperaware of the slip of a dress she wore. His touch traveled up to her neck, and then he fisted the gold necklace around her throat, using it to pull her closer.

Mina did as he silently commanded, not wanting him to break the chain. It was important to her. Her hands rested on his thighs, noting the way his muscles flexed under her palms.

“Pretty trinket it for a gorgeous woman. Expensive,” he murmured. “From your lover?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “From someone unimportant, then?” There was a sharp edge to his voice and Mina felt, not for the first time, that she’d bitten off more than she could chew.

“From my stepbrother.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, lass.”

“Of course he’s important to me. He’s family.”

“A man doesn’t purchase a necklace like this for family. An emerald as big as that snuggled in between two pert breasts? That’s a gift from a man staking a claim.”

Mina flushed, remembering all too well her last real encounter with Ronan.

“You’re wrong.” Although Ronan had never played the part of her brother in any fashion, he’d never staked his claim on her.

Instead, he’d sent her away to boarding school the first time she’d ever pissed him off. She hadn’t seen him since, even though he mailed her gifts like this necklace on special occasions.

She’d told herself for years that they didn’t mean anything, that she didn’t want those gifts, yet she always found a reason to wear whatever he bought her.

The stranger cocked his head to the side, studying her intently. “Am I?”

Mina licked her suddenly dry lips, nervous that she’d overstepped. “Yes.”

He smirked, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. He looked over her shoulder. “Leave us.”

Mina heard several people shuffling out of the room. As she turned her head, the stranger grabbed her chin, holding her still as he spoke to the man behind her. “Finan. You’ll watch, but no touching.”

What—

Mina’s eyes widened as she slowly realized her stranger’s intentions. Indignation, coupled with a fierce surge of desire, coursed through her. “Excuse me? If you think I’m going to have sex with you—”

His fingers tightened on her chin, and she swallowed down the rest of her words. “You’ve come here to fuck, angel, and I’ll be the one you’re with tonight.”