Shannon Read Online Free
reaction , he though watching her closely.
“You are applying to be a prostitute, a high-priced one, but a pro all the same. All I’m asking you to do is prove to me you can do the job you’re applying for.” He thought he had her. He thought she’d back down, go scurrying back to wherever she came from—only he’d have someone follow so he could find out what he wanted to know.
Instead, she walked around the desk, swiveled his chair, and dropped to her knees.
Fuck!
Chapter Two
The last thing Shay had expected to do was to fuck Shannon O’Shea when she had come in for an interview. Of course she had prepared herself to become a hooker for a short time. Just long enough to earn the money she needed. Of course she’d been familiar with the way Old Man O’Shea ran his businesses, and she knew this was the safest place she could hide until she could get the hell out of Massachusetts. It was the only way she’d be safe. She’d been unprepared to learn that the Irish boss’s sons were taking over his enterprises, so things were vastly different in South Boston. She’d been particularly unprepared for Shannon O’Shea.
Downstairs those from South Boston who were trying to get into one of the houses were whispering none too quietly among themselves about how good looking all the O’Shea brothers were. Shay dismissed it. What the women of South Boston found attractive, she generally didn’t. Until she’d walked into the office.
The man sitting behind the desk wasn’t a businessman—he was a predator. She recognized that about him right off. Those green eyes weren’t looking at a person’s appearance; he was attempting to gauge your soul. Shay was willing to bet most of the time he was right on the money too. But then, she wasn’t so easily read. Still, she knew he saw far more than she’d ever intended. And she’d trained herself for this. It wasn’t an easy thing to work on your back for money, but hell, the way she saw it her life was worth it. There was no time to be picky or turn her nose up at an opportunity to stay hidden until she was good and ready.
But damn, Shannon O’Shea was fine as all get out. Even sitting she could tell he was hella tall, thick ropes of muscles bulging out of the simple T-shirt he wore. It was freezing outside and dude was wearing a simple black V-neck t-shirt, showcasing the vivid tats up and down those thick arms. The Southie accent wasn’t as thick as she would’ve guessed, but the deep voice had plenty of Boston coloring its words.
Then he informed her he would be taking her for a test drive. Shit. Although she’d pushed back all of her consciousness’s objections to what she was doing, she wasn’t so sure she could stay mentally removed from this man. Just looking at him made her unaccountably wet, needy and down for anything. And he sat there looking completely unaffected. Not that she was all that, but she knew she was a slice of that, and in most cases that was more than enough. But this man sat, not moving a muscle, not giving any indication to being even a little turned on. And she couldn’t for the life of her see anything behind the mask of nothing he wore like a second skin. Not even those vibrant emerald eyes held a clue. They were like the gems they stole their color from—beautiful but otherwise cold, almost lifeless.
Had she seriously just escaped a wolf to run headlong into the den of a lion? The last thing she needed was to be trapped here after escaping a prison of sorts. But there was no point in dithering, not when she needed this job. It was perfect. Room and board—she would never have to leave. She had to do whatever it took to stay as long as she needed to. So she didn’t hesitate to approach him.
But as soon as he turned the swivel chair to her direction, her eyes dropped to his lap and saw he wasn’t as unaffected as she thought. Holy hell, that was one hell of an erection. Damn it if her mouth didn’t start watering as
“You are applying to be a prostitute, a high-priced one, but a pro all the same. All I’m asking you to do is prove to me you can do the job you’re applying for.” He thought he had her. He thought she’d back down, go scurrying back to wherever she came from—only he’d have someone follow so he could find out what he wanted to know.
Instead, she walked around the desk, swiveled his chair, and dropped to her knees.
Fuck!
Chapter Two
The last thing Shay had expected to do was to fuck Shannon O’Shea when she had come in for an interview. Of course she had prepared herself to become a hooker for a short time. Just long enough to earn the money she needed. Of course she’d been familiar with the way Old Man O’Shea ran his businesses, and she knew this was the safest place she could hide until she could get the hell out of Massachusetts. It was the only way she’d be safe. She’d been unprepared to learn that the Irish boss’s sons were taking over his enterprises, so things were vastly different in South Boston. She’d been particularly unprepared for Shannon O’Shea.
Downstairs those from South Boston who were trying to get into one of the houses were whispering none too quietly among themselves about how good looking all the O’Shea brothers were. Shay dismissed it. What the women of South Boston found attractive, she generally didn’t. Until she’d walked into the office.
The man sitting behind the desk wasn’t a businessman—he was a predator. She recognized that about him right off. Those green eyes weren’t looking at a person’s appearance; he was attempting to gauge your soul. Shay was willing to bet most of the time he was right on the money too. But then, she wasn’t so easily read. Still, she knew he saw far more than she’d ever intended. And she’d trained herself for this. It wasn’t an easy thing to work on your back for money, but hell, the way she saw it her life was worth it. There was no time to be picky or turn her nose up at an opportunity to stay hidden until she was good and ready.
But damn, Shannon O’Shea was fine as all get out. Even sitting she could tell he was hella tall, thick ropes of muscles bulging out of the simple T-shirt he wore. It was freezing outside and dude was wearing a simple black V-neck t-shirt, showcasing the vivid tats up and down those thick arms. The Southie accent wasn’t as thick as she would’ve guessed, but the deep voice had plenty of Boston coloring its words.
Then he informed her he would be taking her for a test drive. Shit. Although she’d pushed back all of her consciousness’s objections to what she was doing, she wasn’t so sure she could stay mentally removed from this man. Just looking at him made her unaccountably wet, needy and down for anything. And he sat there looking completely unaffected. Not that she was all that, but she knew she was a slice of that, and in most cases that was more than enough. But this man sat, not moving a muscle, not giving any indication to being even a little turned on. And she couldn’t for the life of her see anything behind the mask of nothing he wore like a second skin. Not even those vibrant emerald eyes held a clue. They were like the gems they stole their color from—beautiful but otherwise cold, almost lifeless.
Had she seriously just escaped a wolf to run headlong into the den of a lion? The last thing she needed was to be trapped here after escaping a prison of sorts. But there was no point in dithering, not when she needed this job. It was perfect. Room and board—she would never have to leave. She had to do whatever it took to stay as long as she needed to. So she didn’t hesitate to approach him.
But as soon as he turned the swivel chair to her direction, her eyes dropped to his lap and saw he wasn’t as unaffected as she thought. Holy hell, that was one hell of an erection. Damn it if her mouth didn’t start watering as
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