Catherine's brain was short-circuiting.

In the four years since Darragh, Jimmy was the only man, besides Ian, whom she was willing to lose her inhibitions for. What made her drop her guard completely were the bolts of lightning exploding from that kiss.

Her nerve-endings fried and every single hair on the back of her neck stood to attention as his tongue brushed hers. Catherine couldn't remember the last time she felt so electrified, so alive.

Not caring he was damp from the rain, she grabbed the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer. He laid an absolute claim to her mouth, re-exploring every nook and cranny. Her honeyed tongue tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

A moan bubbled in the base of Catherine's throat as he tickled the roof of her mouth. But he stole it, along with her breath.

With his foot, Jimmy pushed the door shut. He walked her backward, their tongues tangling and fighting for control. She tried to overtake his mouth, but he wasn't allowing it.

When Catherine's back hit the edge of the countertop, he hoisted her up.

He broke the kiss, running a hand down her chest. Through the thin cotton of her white t-shirt, Jimmy could feel her puckered nipples.

Breathlessly, he asked, "The boys?"

"Upstairs, asleep."

Hopefully.

Her answer satisfied him. Shrugging off his coat, Jimmy let it fall to the floor. When he curled his fingers into the waistband of her jogging pants, Catherine helped him shove them down. They were quickly tossed aside, along with her panties.

It was a mess of battling hands when it came to unfastening his belt. Jimmy swatted her away, trying to focus on getting the leather strap freed. As he worked the button and fly, he was afraid Catherine could tell his hands were shaky.

The last time he'd been this nervous and eager for sex, he was seventeen-years-old, about to lose his virginity in the backseat of a Ford Cortina.

When he felt Catherine's cool hand against his jaw, he relaxed. Staring into her glittering eyes helped his focus, and he swore she grew more beautiful with each passing day.

Despite the lust making her pupils the size of dinner plates, Jimmy didn't miss the flicker of agitation every time she blinked. He wasn't sure if it was from her thinking back to how horribly he treated her in the past, or because it had been a while since she was last with a man.

A beautiful girl like her, it had to be the former. He pushed aside the jealousy of her being with anyone else besides him, as the all too consuming guilt of having treated her like shit swallowed him whole.

"You sure ya wanna do this?" Turning his neck, Jimmy pressed a soft kiss to her wrist.

Catherine dragged her tongue along her lower lip, staring deep into his light blue eyes. He seemed just as shell-shocked as she was. After six years of not even so much as a kiss, neither could believe the strong pull of attraction was still there.

All the lies. All the betrayal. Yet here she was, excited and thinking only of the clawing, laughing, crying, leg-shaking orgasms she knew he was capable of bringing upon her mind, body, and soul.

It wasn't all mindless self-indulgence, though. For ten days she'd worn his crown, and Catherine thought she looked quite nice. Not to mention, there was no way in hell Jimmy was oblivious to the council decision to hand Darragh over to the UVF.

Maybe the Kings were right. It was time to bring him close again.

He was just as guilty as the rest of them.

"Aye," she said, her voice husky.

Capturing his bottom lip between hers, Catherine deliberately kissed him with excruciating slowness. Her hands roamed down his chest, stomach. Eventually one of her hands found its way to the front of his Calvin's, where she could feel his erection straining against the soft material. She showed no mercy and squeezed him.

When the most hedonistic mewl she's ever heard before escaped him, she giggled into the kiss.

He pulled his mouth away from hers, his breathing heavy. "Fuck, Catherine."

"I want you, Jimmy. I want every ounce of you."

Her lips were only a hair's breadth away from his. Jimmy could feel her hot breath against his skin; her fingers slipping into the waistband of his briefs were doing absolutely nothing to calm the white-hot arousal.

In his mind, Jimmy was battling one hell of a dilemma. After spending two weeks at Maghaberry without any sort of release, the way she was squeezing and stroking him through his briefs had him almost ready to pop. Once he slid inside of her, it was game over. Jimmy knew he'd embarrass himself by finishing too quickly.

When he knocked on her door following a fight with Fiona, he had zero intentions on ending up balls deep in Catherine. If he did, he would have at least been smart about it and jerked off before coming over.

Now he had to decide: humiliate himself by coming faster than a teenage boy, or be a chump and stop?

Leave Catherine hot and bothered for another man to cash in on when her cunt is all he could think about for the last six years?

Absolutely fucking not.

"I'm about to bloody embarrass myself here, so I promise I'll make it up to ya and worship the ever-livin'-fuck outta your body later."

"What are you-"

Jimmy shut her up by grabbing the back of her neck and crashing his mouth down onto hers. The skilled work of her tongue sent a shiver down his spine—he didn't remember her being this good at kissing.

Shoving down his trousers and his briefs just enough to free his caged cock, Catherine wrapped her bare legs around his waist. One of her arms hooked around his neck, while the other hand braced the lip of the counter. Both of his hands now biting her hips, he inched her ass to the edge. She leaned back just slightly, allowing the perfect angle for Jimmy to slide home.

"Shite," he grunted, driving his cock deep until he hit bottom.

He powered in and out of the slick, velvet heat he loved so much. Grabbing the back of her neck again, he locked his eyes on hers. The world around him ceased to exist. No longer could he feel her nails digging into his skin or hear the vulgarity of their bodies slapping. All he was focused on was how she felt around him.

"Ya gotta keep quiet," she warned.

When he let one last "fuck," slip, Catherine silenced him with a kiss. The last thing they needed was for one—or both—of the boys to catch them in such a compromising position.

Just like the night in the back of the Ford Cortina, Jimmy came way sooner than he'd like to.

As he pulled out, he watched the milky evidence of his release spill from inside of her.

Fuck! he screamed at himself. How could he have been so stupid?


Jimmy found the perfect combination of fingers and tongue that made Catherine want to scream and cry, and escape, all while praying he wouldn't stop for a single second. He was merciless—pushing her right to the brink, but not quite allowing her to dive off the cliff.

"Oh, God. Oh, God…oh, Jimmy," she cried, clamping her teeth down on the corner of the comforter.

Hearing the syllables of his name roll off her tongue in such a lewd fashion was making him harder than he already was.

Curling his fingers, he found that small spot inside of her, making the top half of her body twist. She shoved the blanket into her mouth, a failed attempted to muffle her moaning. He could feel her legs quaking as he kept forth with his assault.

Sliding shaky fingers into Jimmy's hair, she dug her nails into his scalp and pressed his face into her cunt. A low chuckle vibrated in his throat, and she heard it.

"Stop laughin' at me!"

"I'm not, I'm just tryin' to make you come."

"Well, that certainly won't happen if ya keep talkin' now, will it?"

He loved that smart-mouth of hers. Sometimes.

Jimmy pinched her ass at the same time he teased her clit with the tip of his tongue. She arched her back, forcing her head further into the mattress.

He went back to what he was doing before, feeling pure satisfaction coursing through his blood when she tossed her legs over his shoulders. One more curl of his fingers, and those muscles locked-up.

"Oh fuck, Jimmy, I'm gonna…"

Jimmy swore he felt the vein in his forehead pop when the cell phone sitting on the nightstand sprang to life. The basic ringtone bounced off the walls and it danced from the vibration.

Catherine threw an arm up, her hand blindly searching for the phone.

"Don't you fuckin' answer that," he growled.

"And don't you fuckin' start with me; ya know I have to!"

It was her burner phone ringing. Until Jimmy was debriefed by the security unit and cleared for active duty again, Catherine was still chief of staff. There was no excuse, other than maybe her death, for her not to answer.

Without first looking at the number, Catherine flipped it open. "Hello?"

Jimmy went right back to kissing and teasing her inner-thighs. Considering she was being bothered at nearly four o'clock in the morning, one of the fellas had better be dead.

When Catherine heard the voice on the other end of the line, she immediately shot up, propping her back on the headboard.

"Who is it?" Jimmy mouthed.

She whispered, "Filip."

Catherine detested the devilish grin that spread across his mouth. She knew what he was about to do, and she snapped her knees shut. But Jimmy would never forgive himself if he didn't take advantage of the gift which the universe handed to him on a silver platter.

She shook her head, placing a soft hand on his chest. She mouthed, "Don't. You're better than this!"

He furrowed his brow. It was as if she didn't know him at all! Did she not remember when she was eighteen and he finger-fucked her at the table during Easter dinner? All the while Patrick, Liam, and Brien sat across from them completely unaware.

Prying her legs open, Jimmy circled his finger along her clit. Her head smacked against the headboard and he closed his mouth around one of her nipples.

She was quickly snapped back to reality when she heard her uncle say her name twice. "Aye, I'm still here."

Having enough, Catherine pushed him off of her. She hopped off the bed and grabbed her robe, ignoring Jimmy's attempts to grab her attention. Leaving the bedroom to the bathroom, she closed the door, leaving him unattended.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Jimmy planted his feet on the floor. He was irritated, not expecting Catherine to get as cross as she did.

Swiping the cigarettes off the nightstand, he tucked one into the corner of his mouth. When he couldn't find a lighter, he opened the drawer. The assumption that one would be in the nightstand was wrong, and he found something he wished he hadn't.

Right on top of all the clutter was an accordion of foil-wrapped condoms. Jimmy picked them up. There were only five left, make him sick to think indiscriminate sex was now part of her repertoire.

He wracked his brain trying to figure out who she could be screwing around with. Ian was definitely out of the equation now, and just thinking about the two of them together made him shutter. Jimmy did realize there was a strong possibility they were leftover from that affair, but his jealous brain refused to accept that as truth.

It had to be another True IRA bloke. She had been scared straight to be with a man from outside of their circle, and no way would she get tangled up with a Real army fella.

He wondered how frowned upon it would be to bribe Eamonn and Sean for information on who was spending a fair amount of time with their mother.

Hearing the bathroom door squeak open, Jimmy shoved the condoms back into the drawer and closed it, with enough time to spare to make it seem like he wasn't up to something. When she entered the bedroom again, Catherine said nothing as she rested her back against the door.

"Everythin' okay?"

The unlit cigarette was still dangling from the corner of his mouth. It dried to his lip so he was afraid to pull it off, knowing it would sting like a bitch.

Catherine looked up at him, her eyes empty. She gave him absolutely nothing to work with, just simply walked over to her dresser and opened one of the drawers. She tossed him a Zippo and he caught it mid-air. Jimmy turned the lighter over in his palm and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw an oak tree engraved into the aluminum.

The Irish word doire—meaning oak—was where the name Darragh derived from.

Jimmy closed his fist around it and held it tightly for a moment. A pang of deep-seated guilt stopped him from using her dead boyfriend's lighter.

After setting it on the nightstand, he peeled the cigarette off his lip. Catherine intercepted it and used the Zippo to light up.

"What the fuck happened on that call? What did Filip say to ya?"

Leaning back on the door, she took a lazy drag of the cigarette. "Cammy Hayes was shot…in the arse."

Jimmy's first reaction to the news was to laugh and Catherine followed suit. "Shite. Is it…is he gonna be okay?"

"Filip said he got the wee slug out, but the bleedin' is pretty bad. I guess Jackson is seein' a bird who's a doctor so they're tryin to track her down right now. There's just one wee snag; who's gonna take out Brennan Hefner? I don't trust Eddie to do it—I don't think the boys killed so much as a fly."

He gestured for her to hand over the cigarette. He took a long drag and blew smoke rings into the air, giving it back.

"So what's the plan then, chief of staff?"

She shrugged. "What would you do?"

"I'm not tellin' ya what I would do. It's your bloody job, not mine."

Catherine found a spot on the wall to fixate on. Her eyes moving from side-to-side, Jimmy could see the wheels of her brain were turning.

Stepping forward, she stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and sat beside him on the bed.

"Have SAMCRO take care of Hefner; it benefits them, too, because he's the one standin' between the shipment."

"Clay'll want compensation."

"Let 'em keep the money they owe us. I'll talk to Dessie about the south Armagh lads takin' on an extra shipment of petrol and cigarettes for the next three months.

It wasn't exactly how he'd do it, but it would work.

Jimmy nodded in approval and picked up her hand, kissing the back of it.

"I should be headin' home. It'll confuse the boys to see me here when they wake up."

Catherine wasn't sure why, but she grabbed his wrist as he started to stand up. "Stay. If not for me, then for Eamonn. He'll be over the moon to see ya."

"For you, a chuisle, I'd do anythin'."


A/N: I want to say thank you for the amazing feedback I received on the last couple of chapters! I haven't been sure whether or not my story is well-received, and I'm glad to hear it's sparking interest. Jimmy isn't the easiest character to write, and I almost cried tears of joy when I saw the reviews that I've somewhat got him down. A story that humanizes a man like Jimmy isn't everyone's cup of tea, so I deeply, deeply appreciate having a steady stream of readers/reviewers!