Read Kelly Clan 02 - Connor for Free Online

with some spice she had never been able to put her finger on. It was so very him and made her ache for a different time.
    “It’s okay,” she said. Her words came out far more breathy than she intended, and despite knowing that she should pull away, Claire stepped forward.
    His hand cupped her cheek as his finger swept gently across. “I could have really hurt you,” he said. His voice was just a rumble in her ears. She could feel his breath on her face, and just a fraction more, they would be in prime position to kiss.
    She shook herself free and stared up at him. His words still echoed in her head that he could have hurt her. It wasn’t possible to hurt her more. He already had wounded her heart long ago.
    “I think I need to go home,” she said. She turned her back to him as she opened the door. Looking at him now was just too hard.
    “Goodnight, Claire,” he said. When she turned, he was a few steps further away. “I’ll see you at nine.”
    She nodded and climbed in. When the engine was started, and she was well under way, she let out a sigh. Claire had a feeling that starting tomorrow, everything was going to change.
     
    * * *
     
    Conor slammed the door to the car. The gravel underfoot crunched as he made his way alongside the misty dock to the warehouse. He sneered at the dark Bronco outside.
    The large metal door banged open. If that bastard didn’t know he was coming before, he sure did now.
    His boots echoed as he made his way down the hall. Several men mulled around and nodded as he passed, but most just cleared a path. He might have been a bit passive under Finn, but with this crew, that wouldn't fly.
    Conor scanned the open warehouse. His gaze landed on the corner where some men were playing poker. The smug prick sat there just waiting, knowing that he was coming over.
    Not breaking his stride, he walked with ease to the corner. This was the Russian corner. They all knew it, and most of the other men just stayed away. It wasn’t worth starting a beef with the Russians.
    “You,” Conor said as he got closer. He raised a finger and pointed it at Boris. “I’m dealing with Claire.”
    Boris raised a heavy brow and slowly folded his cards onto the table. His ample tattoos reflected in the light, and Conor wrinkled his nose. Each one had its own meaning, and most meant the death of lots of other people, some of them innocent.
    “For now,” Boris replied in a heavy Russian accent.
    Conor frowned. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
    Boris looked up to him and sighed, like Conor was more some annoying child than an angry grown man. Even more slowly than the cards, he stood.
    “I mean...” he said and stared hard at Conor. The room seemed to chill under his icy stare. “I’m keeping eye on Miss Hottie. You don’t take care of her,” Boris gave a wicked grin with his cracked yellow teeth, “then, I take care of her.”
    Conor rushed forward and rattled the table. He poked his finger into the Russian's chest.
    “You fucking touch her, and I’ll kill you,” he breathed out.
    Boris looked down at the finger on his chest and then back to Conor. Again, he grinned.
    “I look forward to it,” he said and then nodded to two men near the table.
    The large Russians pulled Conor back, but he never took his eyes off of Boris. The two stared at one another while he seated himself.
    Conor had just started a war with Boris, and that was somehow worse than starting it with just the Russians.
    He yanked his arms back and was surprised to find Braden at the door.
    “Well,” Braden said, stepping outside. “You looking for a fight?”
    Conor scrubbed a hand over his face.
    “Fuck,” he mumbled and then looked over to Braden. “He was over at Claire’s office. Just fucking sitting outside like he was waiting for her.”
    Braden nodded. “Not surprised. She’s a loose end.”
    His head snapped up. Conor hadn’t really looked at it that way.
    “Shit.” He began to pace again. “This is so