by Winters, KB
He finished his beer and eased himself out of the booth, pulling the black leather jacket back over his shoulders.
“Keep your phones on boys and don’t forget to kiss your women and tell them you love them. See you lads around.”
The table was quiet as Conor flirted with Maggie, paid the bill and left with her sassy rejection fresh in his ears. Eamon stood and shoved me out of his way.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
“Since Conor paid for the drinks,” Eamon said expansively. “I’m gonna go spend some time with my woman before tonight’s activities get under way. See you fuckers tonight, by then I’ll be ready to fuck some shit up.”
He grinned happily, the look of a man who knew what was waiting for him when he got home. Lucky fucker.
It was still early afternoon which gave us all a few hours to get our minds right before tonight, and I knew exactly how I planned to spend that time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ivy
Shae picked me up from the hospital, and as soon as I buckled myself into his fancy ass Lambo, he asked, “Did you have a good visit with your brother?”
But he was acting weird, even when I said, “I did, we had a nice talk.”
He kept quiet and sort of distracted, which wasn’t like Shae, but since I was respecting the limits of our relationship, I kept my mouth shut and just talked about Ian.
“I think my visit will change the dynamics of our relationship. Thanks for going to bat for me, Shae, but you really didn’t need to.”
“What do you mean?”
Yeah, distracted. Had he forgotten what he’d said to Ian?
“You know, when you visited last night.”
It was a nice gesture, but it was the gesture of someone who gave a damn about me and my relationship with my brother. It was not what I expected from a guy who wanted to ‘see where things go,’ so I refused to read anything into it other than the fact that Shae was a guy who liked to solve problems.
“Oh yeah. That. I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. Your brother seems like a good kid, but he was being a shit where you were concerned, It’s good for a man to be called out once in a while.”
His mouth curled into a grin that was too damn appealing for a woman trying to keep her emotional distance.
“Is that true for you, too?”
He shrugged. “Believe me, Eamon and Rourke call me out constantly. They spent half the afternoon grilling me about you.”
His tone was light, but I didn’t miss the way his grip tightened around the steering wheel.
“Wanted to know if I was some plant to bring down the Irish mob?” I had to make light of it all because if I didn’t, well I might just break down at the surreal-ness of it all.
“Nah, they were just giving me shit about having a woman at my house. I like to keep sex separate from my personal life.” And there was another glaring reminder just in case I had stars my eyes and imagined something that wasn’t there.
“Noted,” I said and looked out the window at the passing traffic. Nothing to say after that convo shut the door for real on any ideas I might have about a future with Shae. Not that I had any, right?
The car came to a stop right outside the front door, and I stepped out without waiting because things like opening doors were a surefire way to give a girl the wrong idea.
“I’m sure you told them it was just to keep me safe.”
He grunted a response, but I didn’t bother turning to see his expression. I didn’t want to see relief or any variation of it, despite the distance I was keeping, so I stayed facing the door as I waited for Shae to enter the seven digit code that turned off the alarm.
“Ivy sweetheart, you drive me mad.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but I knew it was not a romantic overture, just a figure of speech.
“I have that effect on people but don’t worry, it’ll pass.”
His body heat warmed me from head to toe as he pressed against me, pulling an unstoppable shiver from me as he input the code.
“I’m not sure I want it to,” he growled and pushed the door open, steering me inside where he pushed me up against the door with hell and fire in his eyes. Spearing his fingers through my hair seconds before his mouth crashed down on mine.
I didn’t want to sink into that kiss, to melt in his arms, but I was powerless to do anything else when his taste – whiskey, mint and a hint of something that was undeniably Shae – exploded on my tongue. Shae was too much man, too damn appealing and too damn potent for me to resist, especially when his hands and mouth were on me, bringing me pleasure.
God, he kissed like a man on a mission, and I was the sole target of that mission. His hands roamed while his mouth laid siege to mine, plundering, exploring and teasing me until I moaned, until my body vibrated with need.
“Shae,” I whimpered, pulling away to catch my breath.
He let out a growl of his own, giving me a long, assessing gaze before he tore every stitch of clothing from my body without regard to where they landed, giving his own clothes the same treatment.
“I can’t wait,” he said, voice low and dark as if possessed by something darker.
“Don’t wait, then.”
“I won’t.”
His mouth was on mine again, a slow drugging kiss that turned my knees weak before his mouth left mine and explored warm, sensitized skin. Every place his lips touched turned to fire, melting my flesh along with my resolve to hold a piece of myself back because there was nothing left to hold back. Shae had taken it all, leaving me with no defense against his particular brand of charm. And seduction.
“Oh, oh yes!” I purred as his tongue touched my clit. Gently at first before he gave long, slow licks that sent goosebumps running down my skin.
“Shae, please.”
He pulled away and looked up at me, mouth slick with my juices and a naughty grin on his face. “Please what, babe?”
“I need you.”
He kissed me again between my thighs, a loud smacking kiss that pushed me that much closer to the edge before he stood, smiling.
“Good because I’ve been thinking about fucking you since I was last inside you.”
How could he make such dirty things sound so good? So enticing?
Shae lifted me in the air with my back up against the front door and slowly slid me down the length of his cock until he was buried so deep that I felt him in the one place I didn’t want to.
My heart.
“Oh fuck, love, you’re so tight.”
Love. It was a word spat out in the heat of passion, nothing more. It meant nothing, I told myself, even as a small part of me held on to the hope and let it fester. Love. The word echoed in my mind with every thrust inside my body, giving him the chance to take another little piece of me with him.
Love.
Every grunt and moan pulled from me made me a liar because no matter how much I denied it to him and to Ian, I couldn’t keep lying to myself.
Love.
I was in love with Shae Connelly, a member of the mob. Man whore. Commitment-phobe. In love with a man programmed not to love anyone but himself.
“Yes! Oh fuck, yes!”
That thought, along with the combination of his mouth on my overheated skin and his cock pounding into me, sent me spiraling into oblivion, wicked thoughts fighting to make their presence known when all I wanted to focus on was the pleasure of the orgasm, shaking my body until it trembled with white hot pleasure.
Then Shae’s own pleasure took over, his chest pressed against mine so hard it nearly burned, but it changed the angle of our coming together and allowed him to thrust harder and faster into me until he let out a loud grunt. Slick skin smacking against slick skin was the only other sound in the room.
“Oh fuck, Ivy. Yes!”
His gaze landed on mine, looking satisfied and pleased with himself, but there was also something else, something that looked a bit too much like affection for my liking. A
look that made me want to share with him the beauty of my feelings. Knowing they wouldn’t be appreciated was the only thing that kept my mouth closed.
I slid down his body on wobbly legs, and without asking, Shae tossed me over his shoulder and carried me to his bedroom, where he started pleasing me all over again. The second time it was slower, more intimate and intense, and I knew it wasn’t about me.
After he filled me the second time, I gripped his face in my hands until his gaze met mine.
“I know you can’t or won’t tell me what you have to do tonight, and that’s fine. I don’t expect you to and it’s not what this is about. But please, be careful Shae.”
His grin came slow and sweet and his kiss was even sweeter.
“I’m always careful, sweetheart. But it’s nice to know you care.” He tossed a wink over his shoulder and made his way to the shower. When I heard the rush of water hitting the wall of tile, I fell back against the bed and groaned.
The problem was that I cared too damn much, and Shae, well, he didn’t care at all.
Story of my fucking life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shae
Leaving Ivy naked and sleeping was harder than I thought it would be. Harder than it should be for a temporary relationship. But tonight was the night we made the Milano family regret fucking with the Connelly Organization, and I couldn’t think about her or a relationship right now. I couldn’t afford any distractions. That was what Ivy was, a big damn blue-eyed distraction that could get me killed if I didn’t stop thinking about those sensual curves or the sweet husky sound of her voice when she exploded around me.
“Earth to Shae? What the fuck, man?” Eamon punched me in the arm, glowering at me like I’d gone crazy. “You okay to do this tonight?”
I shrugged off his hand. “Fuck yeah I’m okay to do this. More than okay, actually.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, sucked in several deep breaths, and pushed them out slowly, ridding myself of the final thoughts of Ivy. Until later.
“I’m fine, bro. Trust me.”
Eamon continued to eye me like I was just released from the fucking hospital yesterday. “This is why you don’t bust a nut before a big fight. I need you on edge, not relaxed with that goofy, fucking grin on your face.”
I glared at him and silently cursed Ivy for invading my thoughts at the worst possible time. “I said I’m fine so don’t go worrying about where I put my nut.”
Rourke snorted a laugh and Conor clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of at least a dozen men his way. “If you boys are done with the dick talk, maybe we can get on with busting some goddamn skulls?”
Conor flashed his boyish grin, looking every bit like the kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. “Once we’re done here, beers on me and you can tell all the dick jokes ya want, aye?”
A few of the guys we’d brought in for muscle laughed, clapped and whistled their appreciation. Right now everyone was high on the fight to come, but once everything was done and the shock and adrenaline wore off, they’d all want to crash on a soft, warm surface. Maybe seek comfort in the tender, willing body of a woman; food; family; or some combination of them all.
The high would wear off and even though the satisfaction would linger, so would other feelings, the ones you couldn’t think about.
“Calm down,” E-money demanded. Arms folded with a look on his face that was so eerily Patrick, Eamon stared at every man until there was absolute silence around us all.
“Conor,” he said simply. No instructions because none were needed to know what came next.
For the next fifteen minutes we all listened as Conor outlined the plan. Then we broke apart, taking different routes so we could make sure all exits and roadways were covered by a Connelly.
Eamon turned to me. “It’s just us now, Shae. Tell me if you’ve got this tonight.” We were inside the plain black car every group had for tonight. It would make a clean getaway easy for all of us. “Seriously, Shae, I know you want revenge, but I’d rather get it for you than let you fight when you’re not ready.”
I jerked my head around. “Let me? You haven’t been able to let me do a fucking thing since I outgrew you.”
He gave me that same dark jealous frown he’d had since I surpassed his six-two frame.
“I’m fine, man. My mind is clear and focused on Frank and Gio. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
Eamon gave me a long assessing look, at least it felt long, but the light changed and soon we turned into what passed as the parking lot for the Wet Kitty. It was little more than a plot of land filled with rocks guaranteed to puncture a tire.
“Okay, Shae. I believe you. Now let’s go find Ralph.”
Conor had already talked to the owner of the Wet Kitty, Ralph Madden, but seeing Eamon with his bag of cash would give us the club for the night. We unbuckled ourselves and hustled into the club, and Ralph glad-handed Eamon.
“Good to see you Mr. Connelly.” Ralph kept one hand on his big belly, gripping the thick cigar between his teeth to shake Eamon’s hand.
“I hope you, uh, find everything to your liking this evening,” he said after rescuing the cigar. “A few of the girls won’t mind fuckin’ ya for some extra cash, but the rest are strictly blow jobs.”
His forehead was sweaty, and he held Eamon’s hand for too long.
“Thanks for the warning, Ralph. I’ll make sure all the girls are well compensated and unharmed.”
Eamon could be smooth when he needed to be and thankfully he’d brought his A game tonight.
“This is to show our appreciation for your help tonight.”
“Oh, of course, Mr. Connelly. Not a problem. Thank you for, ah, thinking of the Wet Kitty for your erotic pleasures!” He snatched the bag and hot footed it out of the office much faster than a man his size should have been able to move, coming to an abrupt stop when Eamon called out to him.
“Ralph! You can’t leave yet.” His tone had turned menacing and Ralph’s overdramatic gulp told me just how worried he was now.
“You need to be here to greet them, or they’ll know something’s off.”
Ralph let out a nervous chuckle. “Sure thing. I’ll get the lineup for the girls done while I wait, and you let me know if you need anything. Happy to help!”
He shuffled down the hall quickly, probably off to count the cash.
Eamon shook his head. “That was disturbing.”
I laughed and clapped my brother on the back. “Get used to it, Mister Connelly.”
Eamon rolled his eyes, but I noticed he didn’t contradict me. He scanned the main part of the club, looking for vulnerable spots that where we could maneuver Gio and Frank, along with locations that would give us the greatest advantage. It was something Patrick had instilled in us from a young age: always have an exit plan and don’t ever get caught unaware.
“Shae? We need to find those girls.”
Down a long hall with a half-lit bare bulb was a black door with a gold star on the front. On the other side was the unmistakable sound of women, talking and laughing and fighting. The noise didn’t stop when we entered, but first, one set of eyes landed on us, then another and another.
“Who the hell are you?” A redhead who had to be close to thirty sneered our way but not before giving each of us a long, appraising look.
Eamon sauntered up to her. “I’m your boss for the night. Do your job as you normally would and we won’t have a problem. Is Boo here?”
The redhead rolled her eyes. “You some kind of pervert? Turned on by young girls?”
Eamon stared at the woman until she visibly began to wilt. “Would you like to give someone else your stage time tonight?”
“No.”
“Then go about your business and point out Boo.”
“I’m Boo.” A blonde with a soft voice, big tits and next to no clothes glared at us from the end of the room. She looked young. Long prison sentence young.
“How old are you?”
She grinned. “Twenty one, but I can be whatever age you want me to be, Daddy.”
Eamon’s jaws clenched. “As long as you’re legal you can stay. You have a special assignment tonight.” Taking her by the arm, Eamon shot me a look, and I gave him a nod that I got it.
“All right ladies, tonight is just like any other night. Ralph has the lineup set for the evening, and there will be no changes, so don’t waste your time trying to change it. Any questions?”
Two hands shot in the air and I ignored them. “Good. Have a good night and let’s make some money.”
“Is Ralph selling the place?”
“First dancer is up in twenty.”
***
It was almost ten o’clock by the time Frank and Gio showed up at the club, tipsy and flashing cash like they’d hit the lottery. They took up about five seats right along the stage, being generous with one and five dollar bills as girl after girl took the stage.
Then Boo strutted on stage wearing a plaid skirt that did little to cover her perky little ass, black rimmed glasses, and whatever the stripper version of a school uniform shirt was. Frank’s hand went straight to his cock and his gaze never left Boo as she shook, shimmied, and gyrated on stage. He was transfixed by her just as Conor predicted and as soon as she left the stage, he was on his feet and following her down to one of the club’s two champagne rooms.
Rourke was in the other room watching. Waiting. Three of our guys sat on the other side of the stage, Gio in their direct line of sight. Shamrock manned the door and a few more were outside as part of our Plan B. We had the advantage.
Frank looked around and followed the path Gio and Boo had taken a few minutes earlier, Eamon and I close behind him. But not too close.
“Hello, fuckers.” They had Boo smashed between them, struggling to break free from their rough touch. Frank and Gio stepped back, hands automatically going for their guns, but ours were already trained on them.
“Hands where we can see them or I splatter your brains on this tacky wall.”
Blood and brain matter could only improve the black and hot pink velvet décor.