I had to leave, I really didn’t have time right now. With Seamus gone all of this shit fell to me. So I locked up the penthouse and made my way to my black Charger and set out for Dorchester. There were packages to pick up from a few of the gangs we did business with in the area, but I only dealt with Dom because he didn’t try to pull that homeboy gangster shit on me.
“Hey man.” I stepped from the car and we shook hands. “How’s that product.”
“Some good shit. I don’t know where you got it, but if you can get more we can handle it.” Dom’s bright smile shone against his dark skin. “I heard The Hustlers had to fuck up a few Shamrocks last night who accused them of selling their shit.”
I smiled, nodding at the news. “Same happened more or less to us. They’ll be regretting that move for a long time.” We shared a laugh while one of Dom’s guys put a package in my trunk. “Watch out for those fuckers, Dom. They’re sneaky.”
“White boys don’t scare us,” he grinned. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“You keeping Princess safe? One of the guys offered up a half mil to get her. I told my boys it was a no go, but I can’t say shit for the others.”
Fuck that was the last thing I needed to hear. “Thanks for the heads up Dom. Mack will be by in a couple days with another drop off.” We shook hands again and I took off. I needed to do some clean up before going back to the penthouse.
My thoughts turned to the other O’Malley plaguing my thoughts. Seamus hadn’t checked in for almost five days and that worried me more than anything. No matter how deep shit got, we never let more than forty-eight hours go by without getting in touch. With me or Fiona.
When I arrived at the other safe house where a few of our guys were resting up, I put on my game face. Couldn’t let the foot soldiers see that anything had me shaken or they would get restless. Reckless.
Confident that everything was going as it should, I hopped back in my Charger and headed back to Fiona, who was probably still pissed as hell. But she was safe so everything was all good.
Except for the fucking FBI.
Except for the fucking Red Shamrocks trying to take us down.
Except for…Fiona.
Fiona.
Something was up with her and I just couldn’t figure it out, goddammit. She’d been ice cold at breakfast and I could honestly say Fi had never been so cold to me. She had always been warm and affectionate and full of smiles. Hell last night she’d deepthroated my cock like a girl who’d always been in love with me.
Until I said or did something to make her mad. Maybe I’d been too rough with her last night? I couldn’t really remember since I’d been lost in my own head. Not that I had any sympathy for that Shamrock motherfucker, but when I had to go to that place it took me somewhere else. Someplace that allowed me to be the cold-hearted bastard I needed to be to get the job done. Just like when I’d done it for Uncle Sam.
I wasn’t sure what pissed her off, but we needed to talk, goddammit.
Inside the dark penthouse I stood on the other side of her door again and knocked. No answer.
“You can have tonight Fi, but tomorrow we talk.”
Fiona
Tomorrow morning I would meet with the FBI and take the first step towards clearing my father’s name. Tonight though I had a lot of planning to do to make sure it all went off without a hitch. I did everything I could think of to focus on tomorrow and not on the fact that Keane thought I would sell my dad out. The man was so damn infuriating I could smack his gorgeously rugged face. Instead I decided to avoid him.
Until he made that impossible. “Be reasonable Fiona! This plan of yours won’t work.” Arms crossed, showing off muscled biceps straining under a pale blue t-shirt, his reddish blond brows dipped into a low angry ‘v’.
“Reasonable,” I scoffed at the word. Men love to use that word to make a woman feel like her plan or idea isn’t good enough. “Like you know anything about being reasonable or my plan.” Because he hadn’t bothered to ask.
“I know that whatever you’re thinking of doing, it won’t work.”
“Right, because you didn’t think of it?” I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, the insufferable prick. “Just face it Keane, I’m the one that can help in this situation. You don’t have to like it, but this is my dad we’re talking about, so deal with your own shit before morning.” My chest heaved with the intensity of the words I just said to him. I never spoke to anyone like that. It just wasn’t in my nature, but something about him just pushed me over the edge tonight.
His voice was brutally calm when he spoke next. “It doesn’t matter Fi, I’m in charge of your safety.”
“Maybe, but you are not in charge of me!” I poked at his chest to get him to move but it didn’t work. His body was as immovable as his mind.
“I can’t let you do this.”
Can’t? “Can’t let me do what Keane? Turn my father in, right? Because that’s what you think I’m doing!” I pushed at him again, too disgusted to look at him. “You don’t know a damn thing.” I grew angrier and angrier at his unspoken accusation that I would ever do anything to put my father behind bars. If I wanted to, I could’ve done so years ago and I never had. I hit him in the chest with the outside of my fists. Over and over I pummeled him as my anger boiled over at his constant doubt. Constantly underestimating me. “Sometimes I really hate you.”
He stared at me, hands gripping my wrists to stop my fists. “No, you don’t.” He captured my mouth, tongue caressing each lip carefully as though he were trying to savor the taste. I knew better now.
Biting his bottom lip, I pulled back and smacked him across the face. I shocked myself and that gave him the chance to dip low and take my mouth again, this time slower and more sensual as though he meant it. I trembled even though I tried not to. Tried to resist the pull of his kiss, but the pull was strong, like a magnet, the more I tried to resist the more it pulled me in. Made me surrender.
Keane pulled back and swung me around until my back pressed against his chest, my ass cradled his hard cock. It felt too good to make him stop and my body wasn’t experienced enough to resist. “You want me,” he said, yanking down my pants and underwear, “as much as I want you.” His teeth sank into one cheek and his hand smacked the other, making me squeal. One palm pressed against my back until I arched forward, bent over the sofa. “You may not want to Fi, but you do.” Then his tongue darted inside my slit, in and out, in and out, fucking me with his tongue until I pulsed and trembled. The cool of his tongue on my overheated pussy had me drowning in desire and I pushed back against him.
“Oh!” His tongue caressed me from my clit all the way up my back, nibbling his way up to my ear. It felt naughty. Dirty. I’d never dreamed someone would put their mouth there, or that I would like it. “Keane, please.” Yeah I begged like a dirty little hussy because he filled me with so much desire all I cared about was pleasure and getting it.
He stood and I heard the sound of his buckle and zipper. “Please what, Fiona? You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.” I was beyond the point of lying. At least in this.
And then it was there, the swollen head of his cock pressing slowly into me. Filling me up, slow and tantalizingly deep. He was so deep I could feel every pulse and twitch of him and arched so I could feel more of him. My body acted on its own, somehow just knowing what to do to maximize my pleasure. He was there in that spot that made my legs wobbly and fireworks blast off behind my eyes. “Fiona, fuck baby,” he growled in my ear, hands gripping my hips so he could slam into me over and over. Harder and faster and deeper he went, unable to get enough.
It was a punishing fuck but it felt too good to care or stop. The angle was different, deeper and so enticing. He felt too delicious inside me, touching every nerve ending he could. I shivered when he moaned in my ear and nipped my lobe as his thrusts went deeper still, harder too. He was close, I could tell as the buildup to my own orgasm gripped me and he strok
ed deeper, gripped me harder. Then he was growling in my ear. “Such a bad girl,” he purred and smacked my ass.
I bent over further, arching more to enjoy those last few strokes that still filled me hotly. Again and again he did it until I felt tingles rise from my feet up to my scalp and then…pure sweet bliss. I love you, I silently cried out because I knew I’d never get a chance to say that to him in real life.
He pulled away from me and I instantly felt chilled. But he scooped me up over his shoulder and smacked my ass. “This time we’ll do things my way.”
I closed my eyes and resolved to enjoy one last night with Keane. I felt too conflicted to carry on anything more than casual sex and sex with Keane would never be casual. Plus he thinks I’m going to rat out my dad, I had to remind myself when my heart got all wistful about finally being with the man of my dreams. Stupid, stupid heart.
Well, we had hours before this night of ours ended.
“You don’t seem nervous at all.” Keane stood by the coffee pot, his green eyes studying me carefully. Too carefully.
“Why would I be nervous? I have all the information I need to sort this out.”
“Except the charges,” he added with a smug smile.
I shot a smile right back, just as smug. Maybe more so. “There are no charges. None that have been officially filed anyway.” I should have felt some sense of satisfaction at his shocked look but it only hammered home just how little he thought of me. “And they don’t know that I know.”
His gaze scanned me up and down, lips twitching with amusement. “Is that why you’ve gone for the school girl look?”
“Exactly.” I had dug out a pale lavender sundress and topped it with a white cashmere sweater. I completed the look with a lavender ribbon tying my hair back and a pair of canvas shoes that made me look like the sweet little innocent schoolgirl I needed the FBI to see. “Do I look innocent enough?”
“Fuck yeah you do.”
My nipples beaded at his low growl, but I had to ignore it because I needed to get my game face on. I sucked down two cups of coffee because Keane had kept me up all night, loving my body until I was too sated and too happy to move. “Good. Are we ready?”
He nodded, grabbing his jacket and his gun. “You sure you don’t want me to go in with you?”
Seriously? “Look, I appreciate the offer but you won’t help my cause and they’ll probably find a reason to put you in handcuffs.”
“Aww, sweetheart you care,” he stroked my cheek wearing that arrogant grin I loved to hate.
“Oh hush. Drop me off one block away and then go into the parking garage right across the street and just watch the laptop.” I had a plan and it required Keane to be there as my backup. My hero.
“A block away? You know the Red ‘Rocks can snatch up in seconds, right?”
I sighed as we stepped onto the elevator. “And you know that the FBI will be watching everyone who even looks at the building, right? They have no idea I’m coming in so they’ll be happy when they spot me.”
“I don’t like this Fiona.”
“You’ll be able to see me pretty much every step of the way, Keane. And it’s a clean shot to the conference room I’ll be in.” I smiled and he groaned. “It’ll be fine.” I hoped it would be, but I had no experienced with this kind of thing. I knew my father hadn’t done what they thought and that’s all I needed to know.
“That’s everything, right?”
“Yep.” I had one little tidbit I kept back from him but only because I needed the leverage it would provide.
By the time I walked into Cerulean Shipping my stomach was in knots and the relaxation I had going from a night of Keane’s brand of loving was long gone. My heart thudded so loud against my chest I was sure everyone in the lobby could hear it. One foot in front of the other, I swiped my card and walked onto the elevator. When the doors opened on the fifteenth floor, Maeve and an agent greeted me.
“Fiona O’Malley?” The agent was younger than I expected, with brown hair and blue eyes he looked like every quarterback I’d ever seen.
“That’s me. I’ll set up in conference room A if you want to speak to me,” I told him and slid between the dumbfounded pair.
“You can meet in your office,” Maeve added, trailing behind me.
I smiled at her over my shoulder. “I’m sure considering all that we need to discuss, the conference room will provide us more than enough space.” The agent followed a few steps behind, his gaze never straying far from me.
Maeve sighed, unsure how to handle any challenge to her perceived authority. The woman was a horrible manager because she issued orders with no reason so when she was challenged she had no response. “The office is more intimate.”
“We don’t need intimacy, we need space Maeve. If you need me you know were I’ll be.” Without waiting for whatever reply she would come up with next, I opened the door to the conference room and stepped inside.
Let the games begin.
Keane
Sitting inside my car, eyes glued to the monitor Fiona had set up, my heart raced and I was pretty sure I’d ground my teeth to dust by the time this little show of hers ended. Cool air blasted through the vents, offering little relief on the blistering hot day. Frozen like a goddamn statue, I couldn’t look away from the screen as Fiona stepped inside the large conference room with a serene look on her face.
“How can I help you, Agent?” Her hands were clasped together in front of her on the table, the laptop positioned so I could see them both.
The agent looked like a fucking Boy Scout with his crew cut and cheap suit. “Agent Halloran, Ms. O’Malley. Have you seen your father recently?”
“Not in nearly two weeks. Is there a problem?” I couldn’t help but smile at the way she kept returning questions onto the obviously rookie agent.
Halloran sat forward, elbows propped on the table. “That’s what I’m hoping you can help me with. I assume, since Maeve said you occasionally work here, that you know abut the drugs found in one of your shipments that originated in Canada.”
She nodded thoughtfully as though she had to jog her memory. “I had heard about that, but I can’t believe it.” Sitting forward she pulled her laptop close, fingers poised over the keyboard. “Do you know exactly which truck they were on?”
Somewhat flustered by her question he flipped open a notebook and rattled off the ID number for the truck along with the tracking numbers the drugs were found in. “Does that help?” he asked sarcastically.
Completely unbothered by his tone, she looked up. “Can you read that tracking number again?” I had to laugh at his clear frustration with her, especially because it seemed to conflict with his desire to be polite.
Fiona gave a sexy little pout, though I don’t think she intended it to be sexy, when the agent repeated the number. “That isn’t possible Agent Halloran. Maybe your numbers are mixed up.”
“They’re not, I assure you.”
She gave him that sweet smile that I was sure had the college boys panting after her. A second later the buzz of the printer sounded and she handed him a few sheets of paper. “This is the manifest for that entire truck and as you can see these numbers all share a base set of numbers that indicate where they originated, where they’re headed and which client sent them.”
I had no idea where she was going with this, because I had no idea how the company was run, or really what she did. I didn’t know if I should be relieved or worried.
Agent Boy Scout gave the sheet a cursory once over before giving Fiona a bored look. “I see it, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. The drugs were found on the truck.”
Her sigh was the only indication of her frustration. “So you say, but I’m telling you for a fact Agent, those drugs did not originate with Cerulean Shipping or our client.” Arms crossed, her big blue eyes boring into him.
“Of course you would say that, O’Malley is your father.”
“Yes he is and I love him very much.” Her chin
jutted out, tilting slightly in defiance. “But that’s not why I’m saying this.”
I frowned at her words. They sounded like a trap yet I couldn’t be sure. I just hoped like hell she knew what she was doing.
Halloran leaned forward and I could see that even he thought he’d caught Fiona in something. I was worried too. “So you don’t care if your father goes to jail?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid Agent, of course I care. Just as I’m sure you’d care if your brother flunked out of rehab again.” She let the words linger as they hit their mark. Even I squirmed at the ferocity in her eyes. “My point here is simple. I created the program that generates the shipping numbers we have been using for years. If you’d actually open your mind to the possibility, you’d see those tracking numbers don’t match up to the new system.”
The agent froze at her words, then finally gave the print out the proper attention Fiona seemed to feel it deserved. He slid a highlighter tip across a few different parts and then leaned back in his seat.
“It could be a computer error.”
So that’s what they were gonna go with?
“Yes Agent Halloran it could be, but there are two things wrong with that. First, my programs don’t make errors.” I’d never seen her so confident, borderline arrogant before and damn if it didn’t make me proud.
“And second?” he asked, curiosity obviously getting the better of him.
“These numbers are how Cerulean use to do things. Before I came on board.”
Before? Shit, that meant Fiona thought someone on the inside was helping the Red ‘Rocks. Why hadn’t she said anything?
“I can see your skepticism,” she told him with a satisfied smile. “But I can show you if you’d like.” At his nod, Fiona stood and took the seat beside him, explaining the whole boring process that she brought up on her computer. It seemed like a perfect streamlined way to do business, but it was fucking boring as shit. The glazed look on the agent’s face showed he agreed. “So you see there is absolutely no reason at all for anyone to manually enter a code for a legitimate package.”
Fake Fiancé Next Door_A Small Town Romance Page 17