by Dee, Cara
“Yeah, we’re not running a fucking hotel,” he mumbled.
I hurried over to one of the bathrooms and opened the door. Just as I thought. “That’s good, because we have no towels.”
“Shite,” he muttered. “Well, he’s not finding all that at this hour, so I’ll tell him to get what he can find. Then someone can step out when the stores open in a few hours.”
We were so prepared for this.
“We should get up,” I whispered sleepily.
Finnegan hummed and hugged me to his body. “Not yet.” Then it sounded like he blew out a breath between closed lips, and he batted at something. “Your hair is fuckin’ everywhere.”
I giggled drowsily and tried to smooth it down. “I don’t have a blow-dryer or my usual products here.” We’d both been bordering on wet when we’d crashed after a shower earlier this morning.
There were two sheets and one blanket in the entire house, and Finnegan and I had stolen all three.
We were sharing a sofa cushion as our pillow.
“I’m surprised no one’s barged in,” I murmured.
Since I’d woken up maybe ten minutes ago, I’d heard at least a dozen of our family members. Alec and Nessa were among them, and they weren’t known for being quiet. Then again, neither was anyone else in this mad bunch.
“They know better.” Finnegan rolled on top of me and gave me a deep, lazy kiss. “As sick as I am of hiding, I can think of no better place than right here.”
I smiled into the kiss and teased the tip of his tongue with my own. “Italy, or here with me?”
“With you. Or more specifically…” He broke the kiss and pulled the sheet over him, then left a trail of kisses down to my breasts. “Here—no, wait. I’m not there yet.”
I laughed softly.
But the amusement faded as he wrapped his lips around one of my nipples.
“Mmm… How’s your leg?”
“Not too bad. I slept well.” He went lower and kissed my stomach. Soft ones, tickly ones, all over my skin. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
I chuckled. “You’re gonna spend the next hour under the sheet?”
“Well. Between your legs.” His large hands roamed my sides, my rib cage, down to my hips and thighs. “Right here is my favorite.”
Here was emphasized by a kiss where my thigh ended. Where the skin was extra soft and sensitive.
I shivered as he got settled between my thighs.
“Fuck, you smell good, princess.”
I exhaled shakily and rubbed my hands over my face.
Finnegan pressed a featherlight kiss right above my clit, and I couldn’t take it. I had to see him. I yanked the sheet off him and was so freaking glad we’d gone to bed naked. While I wanted nothing more than to erase the reason his leg was wrapped in a bandage, it was there, and it put his foolish bravery and his loyalty right on display, and it was sexy as fuck.
“Oh God,” I breathed.
He knew how to play me by now. He started out too damn slowly to get me squirming, his tongue delving deeper in gentle, teasing strokes. He was as attentive as he was aggressive in bed, but no matter how tender, he had the most dominant energy. And no matter how forceful, he paid attention like he never put himself first.
“Please,” I whispered.
“There it is,” he murmured, slipping his thumbs between the lips. “I fucking love it when you need me.”
He loved it when I begged, too. Sometimes I didn’t want to give in to him, but he pushed me there anyway. He drove me crazy with his ministrations. He made me so goddamn wet and flushed. The sensations surged through me, sending heat to the surface of my skin, and all I could do was enjoy the ride.
He slid two fingers inside me and closed his mouth around my clit and sucked.
I fucking died.
I squirmed, I rolled my hips, my damn toes curled.
“More, baby,” I moaned. “Oh fuck, yes.”
I dug my head back into the pillow, and my fingers found his hair.
“That’s it.” His voice was liquid sex and whiskey. “Take from me. Take whatever the fuck you want.”
He hummed, sending vibrations through me. He fucked me with his tongue and fingers, slow, seductive thrusts and sensual licks. Every millimeter of me, he explored and claimed as his own.
He tortured me. One finger stroking me on the inside, then two fingers as I arched off the bed, back to one because he wanted to reduce me to a pleading puddle of desperation. And his tongue… He ate me out like he genuinely got off on it, like it wasn’t something he did for my sake. He kissed me, made out with my pussy, and gave me every ounce of his focus.
I whimpered and fisted his hair tightly. It wasn’t enough anymore. “More, Finnegan. Please—I’m begging you.”
“You need me right now?” He used that seductive, rough voice, demanding complete honesty from me. He wanted to hear it. He wanted to know exactly what I needed. “Don’t be shy around your husband, princess.” He kept fingering me toward oblivion and kissed his way up my body. “If you’re a good girl, I just might give you what you want.”
I sucked in a breath and then exhaled around an unsteady groan. He curled his fingers inside of me and caused me to clench down around him. “Please, Whistler. Give me your cock.”
He cursed and withdrew his fingers, only to replace them with the head of his cock.
Right there, stretching my opening.
“Beg me to fuck you,” he murmured huskily.
“Please fuck me,” I mewled, squirming underneath him. I tried to pull him down on me. “Please, Finnegan. I need you. I need you to take me—hard.”
He gave it to me.
Without warning, he kissed me hungrily and forced himself inside.
I lost my breath.
Who needed a god?
He was my religious experience.
He drove into me in long, deep strokes, grabbed my jaw, and pressed our foreheads together. The look in his hooded eyes owned me. The intensity, the raw masculinity, the love, the days of exhaustion, the hunger. It was all there. He wasn’t satisfied until he consumed every fiber of me, and that was Finnegan in a nutshell. All or nothing, and with me, it was always everything.
He spurred me on with his hard thrusts. With his thumb rubbing my soaked clit.
I swiveled my hips and clung to him. He groaned and pushed his thick cock in and out of my pussy. Stretching me, pulsing inside me, so fucking slick from my wetness.
I threw my head back, exposing my neck to him.
Out of control. I was out of control. I arched my body to get closer, my mouth was open, my breaths were choppy and shallow, and he didn’t relent.
Holy… I was shaking.
“Tell me you love me,” he demanded, out of breath. “Tell me you’re as obsessed with me as I am with you.”
He fucked me harder.
Deeper.
“I am,” I whimpered. “You’re everything.”
He hissed and kissed my neck, nipped at my skin, leaving marks. Or so I hoped. I loved wearing his marks.
The buildup was too much. Like a weight shoving me into the mattress, if the mattress were a cliff, and once I fell, I’d be tumbling toward a sea of bliss. Oh God, almost there. I tensed up and stopped breathing, and my thoughts no longer made any sense. I didn’t understand. I only felt. And I was falling…
He slammed into me.
I was gone.
Had it not been for the fact that I was all but drowning in my orgasm, I would have cried out in pain as he rammed his cock inside me one last time before he started coming too.
I couldn’t move. I just lay there, clutching my chest as I tried my damnedest to fucking breathe.
7
Emilia O’Shea
“Oh my God, stop groping.” I laughed under my breath and batted Finnegan’s hands away from my ass. He’d made it abundantly clear that he liked it when I wore thongs under dresses, but we’d left our room now. I closed the door after us.
&nbs
p; “I wasn’t groping,” he argued, fixing his tie. “I was leaning on you. I was just shot, you know.”
I snorted in amusement and helped him tuck his tie into his vest.
We rounded the corner—and came to a full stop.
Kellan, Colm, Luna, Sarah, Lachlan, Mack, and Joel sat in the living room, and they were all staring at us.
“All right, then!” Kellan clapped once and stood up. “Now that the boss has helped Emilia see God, let’s get some actual work done. Finn, we need you in the kitchen.”
My husband had no shame and only found this funny as hell. I, on the other hand, felt the mortification flooding my cheeks, and I didn’t know what to do or where to go. If the men were occupying the kitchen, was I just supposed to sit around and do nothing?
Finnegan left me after giving my cheek a loud smooch, limping into the kitchen with the other men, and then I was facing an amused Luna and…well, I couldn’t really read Sarah’s mood.
But first things first. “Where are the kids?” I asked, pretending the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened.
Luna let out a tittering laugh and rose from the couch. “Subtle change, hon. They’re in the pool. Fall hasn’t reached us here yet, so we thought we’d save their innocent ears from—”
“Okay, I get it,” I said abruptly. Fucking hell. “Have Liam and Autumn arrived?”
“They’ll be here any minute,” she answered. “Shan and Pat have landed, too.” She chuckled at something. “Shan called me and asked how the boys had been able to get into the villa already since he has the keys.”
Oh, bless. Did he not know his own son? Or his entire family?
“Yeah, Finnegan picked the lock in about two minutes,” I replied wryly.
“I figured.” She grinned. “So—pool day? If we move our loungers to the terrace doors outside the kitchen, we should be able to listen in on what the guys are saying.”
I fucking loved Luna.
Two hours later, everyone had arrived, and Kellan and Finnegan had recapped the beginning of their shoptalk three times as more guys had trickled in. Luna and I were catching some sun, and she’d been right. We could hear everything with the terrace door to the kitchen pushed open a foot or two.
“You know what sucks?” Luna said, keeping her voice down. “The guys get all the fun. They train us to be able to defend ourselves against a damn militia, but do we ever get to play? No. Because we’re women.”
I glanced at her hesitantly, wondering for the first time if she wanted to be involved in the Sons of Munster. As Kellan’s younger sister, she’d certainly been around their lifestyle for years and years, but…
Did…did she want to do what they did? Did she want to steal and stuff?
“Okay! Everyone’s here,” I heard Finnegan say irritably. “We’re not gonna go through what we’ve discussed—for the fourth fucking time—so Ford, you can do the honors and give ’em the CliffsNotes.”
“You could have waited until we got here before you started,” Shan pointed out dryly.
Kellan cleared his throat. “Anyway. Basically, what we know is that the Avellino family is high-tech enough to use drones—both as weapons and for tracking. As Joel and Thomas reported, they lost their tail in Boston the second Liam and Seán led them to the ranch. So we can assume they communicate and do surveillance from a long distance.”
Eric spoke up next. “Did a drone really charge at you?”
“It dropped a fucking explosive,” Colm muttered. “Took out both Timmy and Jack.”
I winced, partly relieved I hadn’t witnessed that.
Eric cursed. “That type of equipment screams of an organization that deals in stolen goods from militaries. We don’t wanna get in their way.”
“It could be homemade,” Finnegan corrected. “But we should be prepared anyway. I reckon we—excuse me. Emilia and Luna, you’d probably hear better from in here.”
I froze. Shit, shit. Then I turned to Luna with wide eyes, a look she mirrored. But she recovered faster. My pulse was galloping.
“Fuck it,” she said and stood up. “I’m not gonna pretend I don’t wanna know what’s going on.” She peered down at me. “What about you? Are you gonna keep pretending?”
I wasn’t pret— Fuck. I was.
I looked over at the pool. Alec and Nessa were entertaining themselves. Sarah had picked a lounger on the other side of the pool, and we knew Eric had put Autumn to bed. She hadn’t slept much on the journey, according to Liam.
“We don’t have all day, ladies,” Finnegan said impatiently. “What’s it gonna be?”
I left my lounger and righted the straps of my dress. Luna zipped up her snug hoodie and pulled on her jeans.
Then we headed inside, and I ignored everyone looking at me for the second time that day. Instead, I lifted my chin and owned my shit.
The men were gathered around the big kitchen island. Luna and I positioned ourselves quietly at a corner, and I wondered if she felt an ounce of what I felt. That we didn’t belong. I couldn’t be imagining the tension in the air. Sneaking furtive glances at the guys, it became clear that this was new to all of them. Women weren’t allowed. It was a boys’ club.
Only Liam was smirking a little, relaxed in his stance next to my husband.
Shan wore a blank expression and wouldn’t look at me.
“Any questions so far?” Finnegan lifted a brow and eyed the men.
No one said anything.
I swallowed nervously and lowered my gaze to the island top. Oh. I hadn’t noticed all the printouts before. Photos, maps, lists, satellite images—the kitchen island was full.
“Okay, then.” Finnegan spread out four printouts that revealed a big villa, presumably Gio Avellino’s home an hour away from here. “Our one job for this trip is to get into Gio’s house and get information about his operations around Europe. We want pictures and surveillance.” He paused while Eric brought out his laptop. “Thanks to our wonder boy hacker over here, we know that Gio’s security system is limited to the perimeter of his villa. There are no motion sensors or an electric fence. Instead, there’s a wall, and we guess…about four guards on duty. Based on the footage Eric’s gone through from the local authorities.”
Eric splayed out another two printouts on the island. “Four dogs too. We assume they’re watchdogs because these satellite images were taken before the arrival last week.”
And the dogs were there then.
“What arrival?” Luna asked.
Finnegan cleared his throat loudly and stared at the guys as he answered her. “We believe Gio arrived last week with his wife. We don’t have any intel on her yet, but they were in the same car.”
All this was as dizzying as it cleared up some confusion. But that was how it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? Answers only raised more questions.
Eric took it from there. “I won’t try to hack in to any bank or follow that kind of trail—even if we found one. Mainly because any account Gio would have in Italy would be legal. We won’t find anything here.”
“We still want pictures and details, though,” Finnegan clarified.
Eric nodded. “For sure. We never know if we can use it any other way, and the boss does have a fond history with blackmailing.”
“Allegedly.” Finnegan flashed me a smirk.
I shook my head in amusement, and I couldn’t fucking believe it was funny to me.
There was something wrong in my head.
“That said,” Eric went on, “I did manage to gain access to one account. The grocery chain where Gio’s immediate family orders groceries. And this villa is the only place, according to the previous orders, that has a delivery every week. Which means there’s always someone there. And this—I found something interesting.” He scrolled down to something on his laptop. “The house they have in Bari has received frequent deliveries the past three months.”
“And it makes sense,” Liam said. “God knows how long Gio’s been planning this, and once he made his move,
he probably sent his family there. Maybe he went too. He doesn’t strike me as someone to get his hands dirty.”
I bit my thumbnail, trying to process everything.
“So we’re damn well certain his villa in Cerveteri is his primary home,” Shan concluded. “How do we get past four security guards and four dogs?”
Yikes. Good question. That seemed impossible.
Finnegan huffed a chuckle and jerked his chin at Eric. “Ask him.”
Eric smiled. “I bought two drones when I middle-landed in Frankfurt.”
“Oh,” I mouthed.
“We have to step up our game too,” Pat said. “The Avellinos can’t be the only dryshites with fun toys.”
“We have some obstacles to check off our list before we start talking about the drones.” Finnegan found another few pages in the mess on the island, and he placed them on top of a map of the area. “We printed this from the archive of the Realtor who sold Gio the house. As you can see, three stories, two balconies on the top floors—on each side of the house—and we guess those are bedrooms and common areas. Now—here.” He pointed to a picture of the side of the house. The exterior was creamy sienna and looked like stucco. “This is the only window that’s barred. I reckon we wanna see what’s in there.”
“You think it could be where they’re holding John?” Mikey asked, frowning.
“No, not at all.” Finnegan frowned back. “In the unlikely event John’s still alive, Gio would never bring him to his own home. I think this is Gio’s office.” He tapped a finger on the barred window. “And this…” He slid his finger to the next window. “It’s gotta be a bathroom. Window’s small, and the glass is frosted. It could be our way in. And in my experience, what we tell our clients at the firm back home, is that security for bathrooms is often overlooked. I don’t think the lock will be too hard to get up. Most of the time, in an old house like this…? We’re looking at a simple hook.”