Boston Underworld: The Collection
Page 102
“I could lose a finger if ye sneak up on me like that again,” he tells me when he turns down the music.
“Marry me.”
I can’t see his face, but I know he’s smiling.
It’s been a running joke between us over the last month. I ask him at least three times a day now. But his only response is to kiss me.
Today, though, he turns in my arms and hoists me up around his waist, kissing my neck.
“I have something for ye,” he says.
I must have a dirtier mind than he does because I’m disappointed when he walks down the hall and my present isn’t him.
He gestures to a bunch of boxes as he sets me down on his bed.
“The lads brought your stuff over today.”
“My stuff?” I ask. “Like from my apartment?”
“That’d be the stuff.” He nods.
I stare at the boxes and tap my fingers against my thigh. Rory’s watching me carefully, probably bracing for an epic tantrum since he knows how particular I am about said stuff.
But honestly, I forgot all about it. I haven’t been back there since Alexander was there.
I didn’t want to go back.
I’ve been buying new clothes, because it was easier. But it was a nice gesture, and I am glad I have some of my books and shoes.
“I had to get rid of a few books.” Rory approaches the subject like he’s disarming a bomb. “They were… well…”
“Covered in blood.”
“Aye.”
“So, you touched all my things,” I say. “You moved them, and packed them, and disheveled them.”
“Guilty as charged,” he says. And then, a little quieter, “so how bad is it?”
He’s still mentally preparing for me to come unhinged.
“You better build a fallout shelter.”
I get up and walk towards him, and he backs away. Until I grab the loops of his jeans and yank.
“So, I guess that means I’m going to live with you, huh?”
“I suppose. I need ye close so I can keep an eye on you.”
He gives me a kiss that’s entirely too short and tries to leave again.
“Stay and make out with me.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he says. “I have work to do, and so do you. Time to unpack, Satan. And then ye better be ready because I’m taking ye out tonight.”
“You should really see what I’m doing to you in my head right now,” I say, but he’s already gone and around the corner.
So, much to my disappointment, I spend the rest of the afternoon unpacking instead of fulfilling my hot carpenter fantasy.
Rory’s planned night out consists of a gathering at Niall MacKenna’s house.
The now retired and former boss of the syndicate.
It’s a big deal for him to bring me here, and I know it the minute we walk through the door.
Even though I’ve played it off like it doesn’t bother me he wouldn’t commit, this one little act cements everything I need to know about where we stand.
I’m in this world for good now.
You don’t go to Niall MacKenna’s house unless you’re a longtime girlfriend or wife of one of these men.
Rory knows very well that I know it too, because he’s staring at me right now, gauging my response.
I squeeze his hand to convey the words I don’t want to say aloud.
I’m not going anywhere.
Mack is here, and Sasha too, and I’m in their sights within moments of entering the room. They try to pull me away from Rory, which apparently is the thing to do, so the guys can talk shop and smoke cigars or whatever.
Rory swats me on the ass before I go and leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Be a good girl, Satan.”
I kiss him on the cheek. “I’d rather be bad for you.”
He’s all dimples, and Mack is making a hushed gagging noise behind me when she finally pries us apart and drags me away.
“What happened to you?” she asks. “You’ve gone soft.”
“Speak for yourself,” I tell her.
She glances across the room at Crow, all the while Sasha is seeking out Reaper with her eyes, and both of them are still just as love drunk as the day they got married.
Case in point.
We’re just about to sit down when there’s a commotion from the other side of the room. A feminine cry, followed swiftly by laughter and clapping.
“What’s going on over there?” Sasha asks.
I’m not sure, since I can’t see anything. All the guys are standing in a circle, and it isn’t until Conor moves out of the way that I see it for myself.
A short woman with the same ashy blonde hair and green eyes as Rory. She’s hugging him like her life depends on it, peppering his face with kisses.
His mammy is here.
Judging by the expression on his face, he had no idea. But within moments, his eyes find mine across the room and he’s pulling her over to meet me.
“Oh crap.”
“You’ve got this,” Mack whispers beside me before she disappears into the void.
I don’t do well with mothers.
My own mother hates me, so how the hell am I supposed to win his over?
I am not mentally prepared for this. When Rory introduces us, I’m on the verge of panic. I don’t know what to say or do or…
She leans in for a hug and squeezes the life out of me. For such a tiny thing, she’s an aggressive hugger.
“Told ye,” Rory says, and he’s beaming with pride.
“Aye.” She nods her approval as her eyes move over me. “Ye did. Very beautiful, my son.”
I’m blushing, I think, because my cheeks are burning and how did I not know that Rory had told his mother about me?
“How long are you in town for…”
I have no idea what to call her.
“Just call me mammy.” She gives me a playful wink, and I can see where Rory gets it from. “Everyone does. And I’m here for two weeks.”
“That’s all?” Rory asks.
“Oh, hush you,” she tells him. “You two can come and visit me after.”
After what she doesn’t say.
But Niall’s calling everyone in for dinner, so I follow beside Rory and his mom and take a seat where I’m told.
It’s a large dinner. With traditional Irish fare. There are stews and pies, breads and sausages. Potato dishes and cabbage dishes. A little bit of everything.
And I learn why it’s so frigging delicious when Rory’s mammy proudly tells us she made most of it herself.
When we finish and the plates are cleared away, Niall rises and instructs everyone to move into the sitting room, where he has a special announcement to make.
It’s at this stage that Rory departs from my side, with a kiss to both mine and his mammy’s cheek. And then he goes up to stand beside Niall, who wraps an arm around him the way a father would.
And I can see it now. Niall is like a father to him.
“I would like to thank all of ye for joining us here this evening,” Niall begins. “I cannot tell ye how proud I am of the young man Rory has become. From the time he was only a wee lad, delivering groceries for my shop back in Ireland, I knew he was special.”
The men raise their glasses and chant ‘aye’ in agreement with him at this point, and then Niall continues on.
“So when he came to me last week, to ask me a very important question, a question that if asked right… should only be done once in a man’s life, I told him I had to think on it. For ye see, his mammy asked me to look after his best interests, and selfishly, I agreed to do so, but only because it pleased me. I wasn’t quite ready to share him, to be honest.”
There’s some quiet laughter, and then Niall gestures across the room to me.
“Scarlett, would ye come up here for a wee moment?”
Rory’s mammy pats me on the back when I freeze in place and then gives me a little shove when that doesn’t work.
It’s also at this point that Rory takes over the speech.
“He obviously gave me his blessing,” he tells the crowd as he takes his hands in mine and gets down on bended knee before me.
There is laughter and I’m in shock.
“Scarlett, my beautiful little devil, would ye do me the honor of raising hell with me…”
He winces and glances into the crowd, “sorry mammy.”
“What I’m getting at is that I want ye by my side. To do nice things with. At least for the next two weeks, and then we can raise hell when mammy leaves.”
More laughter from the crowd, and me too.
“Satan, will ye do me the honor of being my wife?”
The room goes still and quiet while everyone waits for me to accept.
I focus on Rory.
On my steadfast, handsome, mischievous, and deadly Rory.
He really is a Saint. And I really am the Devil.
But together, we’re a match made in heaven.
“Yes,” I say. “In fact, that’s a hell yes.”
The room erupts into laughter and clapping and chaos and a few sarcastic hecklers as Rory puts a big fat rock on my finger and then pulls me up into his arms.
He kisses me in front of everyone, and then Niall raises his glass.
“The way I see it,” Niall says. “I’m not losing me son, but gaining a daughter.”
The toasts continue over the next ten minutes, and in true Irish fashion, they are funny and clever.
Everyone is happy. But Rory’s mom is the happiest, and she can’t stop crying or fussing over the two of us.
“Grandbabies,” she says. “I want grandbabies.”
“Aye.” Rory smirks at me. “We’re working on it.”
And then he leans in to whisper in my ear.
“The minute you sign that marriage certificate, ye’re coming off the pill.”
EPILOGUE
RORY
MAMMY IS ON THE TEAR.
Running around the church and trying to make sure everything’s perfect. I can’t escape her reach even for a minute, and I am five years old all over again.
She won’t let me out of her sight because she still believes that silly superstition about seeing your bride before the wedding.
Which is why I’ve devised a plan.
Conor’s over in the corner, canoodling with his girlfriend, who I rarely see not attached to his face anymore, when I snap my fingers at him.
“I need ye to do something for me.”
He groans and Ivy smiles up at him, genuinely head over heels for the poor lad. I’m glad he finally found someone to make him grow a pair of balls.
“I’ll be back after,” he tells her before he swaggers up to me.
“What do you need?”
“Well for one thing, you can wipe that shit eating grin off your face,” I tell him. “It’s my wedding day and I’m the one who should be getting laid.”
He smirks, and it really isn’t helping.
“Got a bad case of blue balls?”
“You have no bleeding idea,” I say. “Mammy hasn’t let up all week. Scarlett’s not been in my bed for seven days.”
“Well she will tonight,” he assures me.
“Nah, it can’t wait mate.” I shake my head. “I need a distraction.”
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“Something with the flowers, maybe. Make the bouquet disappear for a wee bit. Leave a ransom note. I don’t bloody care, just fucking make it happen.”
“On it,” he says, whistling as he walks away.
Next, I flag down Crow, because I know my mammy, and one distraction isn’t going to be enough.
“Already got it handled,” Crow tells me before I can say anything. “Mack’s about to require some emergency repairs on her dress. It should buy you twenty minutes, at least.”
“Thanks, mate.” I slap him on the back and then roll my eyes when I see his disheveled shirt. “Let me guess, you helped her with the dress issue?”
He shrugs, and I shake my head.
Everybody’s getting laid but me.
Once Mack is in mammy’s sights, I’m peeling out of there like my shoes are on fire. Scarlett’s in the dressing room when I find her, and she smirks when she sees me sneaking in.
She’s dead gorgeous.
My mammy actually convinced her to wear white. Some princessy poofy gown and all. And just the thought of knowing how bad my little Satan is, wearing such an innocent color, makes me harder than I’ve ever been.
“It’s about time,” she says.
“How’d ye even know I would come?” I ask.
“It’s been seven days,” she says. “I knew you would come.”
She told me last week about this fantasy she’d always had in her head about her wedding day. While most girls dream of the flowers and the cake and the jewelry, Scarlett was thinking how hot it’d be to have her groom sneak in and fuck her dirty before she walks down the aisle.
Which is precisely what I intend to do.
“Come on.” I grab her hand and drag her into a closet that locks from the inside. “We don’t have much time.”
“You’re really scared of your mom,” she laughs. “Aren’t you?”
“Have ye bloody seen the woman?”
“Why do you think I’m wearing white?” she retorts.
“Mmmm.” I nuzzle into her neck and give her a love bite. “But ye look so good in it.”
“Just wait until you unwrap me,” she leans up to whisper in my ear.
Of course, her words make me curious as hell. So I bunch up the fabric of her dress to find a lacy pair of red panties.
Perfect.
A devil in angel’s clothing.
I smash my face between her thighs and inhale her, rubbing myself all over her like a dog. It’s been too long since I’ve had her, and I tell her as much as I suck the fabric of her panties into my mouth.
“Nuh-uh.” She grabs my hair and shoves my head back. “We only have a little bit of time. So do something really dirty to me.”
There’s a knock on the door, interrupting us.
“Fuck.”
“It’s me,” Conor whispers. “She’s heading this way in about two minutes.”
I stand up and give Scarlett a quick kiss on the lips and tell her about plan B.
“Meet me in the confessional booth in five.”
“Are you serious?” she laughs.
“As a heart attack, baby.”
I grab her hand and wrap it around the hard on in my trousers. She pumps it twice and my head falls back on a groan.
“Five minutes,” I tell her hoarsely. “Don’t be late.”
And then I’m out the door, dragging Conor along with me. Luckily, this part of the church is empty at this stage while everyone’s getting ready for the wedding.
“Ye’re gonna have to be my lookout,” I tell Conor.
He nods.
I bolt into the confessional booth. Which is smaller than I remember. But it’ll do. I’d fuck Scarlett in a tin can right now if I had the opportunity.
My little devil is a minute early.
And I reward her by spinning her around and jamming a hand inside of her panties.
“Conor’s outside,” she says.
“Do you care?” I ask, knowing full well he can hear everything that we’re doing in here.
“Fuck no.” She grinds her ass against me. “Let’s show him how it’s done.”
And we do.
I bunch up her dress and grab onto her hair, bending her over and fucking her right there in the confessional.
Nothing has ever felt so good.
Or wrong, when I think about my own childhood confessions in one of these booths.
It’s quickly forgotten when Scarlett comes all over me in two seconds flat. I just want to keep fucking her forever.
I ne
ver want to leave this booth, or the warmth of her body.
But Scarlett ends it with a single sentence when she reaches back to brush her fingers over my neck.
“I’m not on the pill anymore.”
I come so hard I almost black out. Even just thinking about knocking her up has me getting hard again inside of her.
“That wasn’t very dirty,” I apologize.
I’m off my game.
But still.
Seven days.
“No,” she agrees. “But this will be.”
And then she sinks to her knees in her white dress, wrapping her mouth around my cock to clean me up.
As it turns out, Conor wasn’t a very good lookout.
I choke back a laugh and try my best to look remorseful as mammy scolds us. But eventually, she just gives up and throws her hands into the air. Stealing Scarlett away from me to make her look more like a bride again and less like the heathen who just let me come all over her tits.
Before the wedding kicks off, the men do their man things. Drinking and heckling me mostly. Telling me life is over as I know it, now.
But it’s all in good fun.
And honestly, I couldn’t be happier to wear a ring.
Because it isn’t just for anyone. It’s for Scarlett.
“When are you going to get her in a family way?” Dom teases me.
“About five minutes ago,” I remark.
They all congratulate me again… because we’re men and this is the type of bullshite we do.
All the lads are here. Their wives and girlfriends too.
And a visitor I didn’t expect.
Booker.
He shakes my hand when he comes in, and his eyes bounce around the room. It’s risky for him to be here, in the open like this. Associating with us.
But I suppose it’s a risk he’s willing to take.
“She isn’t here,” I tell him. “Haven’t seen her since she bailed at Alexei’s.”
“Of course.” He nods, but he’s disappointed. “Just came to congratulate you.”
We shoot the breeze for a few minutes and have a drink before something over my shoulder catches his attention.
There’s a girl.
In a blue wig.
Her face is turned, and I don’t think it’s her, but Booker’s already after it. He follows her down the aisle and taps her on the shoulder.
When she turns around, she winks and smiles.