Page 35 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

I settle back against the leather seat. “We could go back. I tried to spare you before. The sheet has been shown, and if we stayed, I’d guess your humiliation would be complete.”

“And you doing all that to me wasn’t humiliating?”

Is that what she thinks? I don’t answer, just change the subject.

I can still fucking taste her and I lick my lips. Deliberately. She almost spills her drink.

“Tomorrow I have a lot of work to do. But someone will be with you, always.”

“Don’t trust me?”

It isn’t what I meant, but she’s right. I shouldn’t. I don’t. “No.”

The limo pulls over to the side of the road a few miles down and I see Seamus jump out of the SUV behind us before I hear the knock on the window. “Are you decent?”

I shove the door open and pull my bride to me as they pile in. I slide my hand along her thigh and Torin just raises his brow. “Clive, the long, scenic way back to the West Village.”

“Yes, Callahan,” he responds.

I lean back, closing my eyes.

“I’ve got to say that was fast up there. For you. I mean, a quickie on yer—ow!” Dec says as I snap my eyes open.

Seamus just shakes his head. “Really, Dec, really, the lady in question is in the car.”

“And you might be my brother, Declan,” I say in a deadly tone, “but she was nice enough to let you tramp all over her pretty feet when you danced together, so apologize.”

He opens his mouth, and I look at him.

Whatever smart comment is on his tongue vanishes. He gives Lucie a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Lucie. I was ribbing Cal.”

I cut my eyes to her, the warning clear. And she just stares back, then turns to Dec. “I enjoyed our dance.”

For fuck’s sake… “Not a word out of anyone.”

I need to talk some things over with Torin about tomorrow. I have incoming shipments, a few skulls to smash, and warnings to be issued. And I want to inspect the sex club I’ve just been given. Not the one, Silk, that the Don had to buy outright and then hand over to me, but his.

With Silk, all he gets back is the amount I said I’d pay.

Call it a test. He asked for the impossible. Kill Mitchum. He’s a small fry on paper, but the things Mitchum knew kept him protected. Maybe he’d have ended up in the White House one day, who the fuck knows, but I eliminated that, went in where others refused, everyone else in this pissant town hedging bets, watching backs, playing the mafia and organized crime version of nice.

Fuck that. Chaos controlled is lifeblood. And I like risks. I don’t give a shit about any of their politics. Not at my core. There are enemies, yes. But it’s a game of loyalty and betrayal. I never betray. I’ll tell you to your face what I am and what I’ll do, and if someone doesn’t believe that? Their problem, not mine.

And if I can keep thinking of work, keep thinking of mygoals of being the top of my chosen pile, I won’t notice how she shifts against me, the heat of her flesh beneath my hand, how that satin isn’t much of a barrier.

Her thigh’s slender, muscled, but not obnoxiously so. She’s fit slender, not diet slender. I can see her working out, sweat trickling beneath her tits. Maybe she plays something like tennis. She might run.

I wouldn’t mind chasing her down, truly chasing, so she’s sweaty, lungs and legs burning, limbs like lead when I catch her. I’d lick her the fuck all over, all that salt and perspiration, her pussy furnace hot. Then I’d make her wetter, hotter, and I’d strip her bare, the heat of the room and passion and want mingling in the air.

I’d have her on her back, legs up, and pulled closer so she’s fucking spread. That sweet, tight pussy. Pink. Wet. But I’d take her ass, watch my pierced cock penetrate her. And I’d do it slow at first, each piercing of my Jacob’s Ladder disappearing into her, scraping against her just so.

And then I’d go balls?—

“Callahan?” Seamus says, his voice jerking me out of my fantasy.

“Yeah?” I have no idea what they were talking about, but it’s not going to be anything to do with work. Not in front of her.

Even if Lucie’s my wife now.

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