Page 7 of Stolen Mafia Vows
My phone vibrates with her reply:Make it day four and we have a deal.
Family stuff?I ask.
You got it.
My phone settles down, and I succumb to the smooth purr of the car engine and my dad’s favorite opera. I can appreciate the beauty of the music even if it doesn’t move me to tears the way it does most opera lovers. Give me Steven Tyler’s gravelly voice belting out ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’ any day.
I can imagine undressing Emily with Aerosmith playing in the background, devouring her body with my eyes before I taste every inch of her, inside and out. She is the only woman I’ve wanted to fuck on first sight. Sure, I’ve had my share of one-night stands. But they generally occur when sufficient alcohol has been consumed for it to become a consensual fumbling accompanied by a series of grunts rather than something that either party is so desperate for that they can’t wait a moment longer.
But that’s how I felt when I saw Emily walking towards me, like she was drenched in pheromones that I was powerless to resist.
Scratch that. I was powerless to resisther.
That the feeling is mutual makes me feel like I could carry a mountain on my shoulders and set it down at her feet as a gift.
Another message arriving on my phone drags me out of my own head where my throbbing cock is currently king, and back to the present. My dad and Ruairi are talking in low tones in the front of the car, and for one sobering moment, I wonder if I imagined the whole text message conversation.
Then, I unlock my phone and see Emily’s name, and the blood starts pumping through my veins all over again.
Will you be gentle with me?
That’s an easy question to answer.Never.
Do I get a say in that?
No. I hit the send button and sit back in my seat.
The conversation continues in the front seats of the vehicle. I’m excluded, which means that, whatever they’re discussing, my opinion won’t count. Which in turn makes it easy for me to zone out.
Until we arrive home and my father signals for me and Ruairi to follow him into his study. The fatty aroma of roasting lamb wafts through to the foyer from the kitchen; Gran is preparing Dad’s favorite meal to welcome him home, and I can hear her singing along to Elvis Presley’s ‘Suspicious Minds’.
This was the home she shared with my grandfather; when my parents got married, they simply never found their own place and stayed here instead. The house is so large that even when my uncles and aunts and cousins come to stay at Christmas, we don’t get in each other’s way. Besides, I think Gran loves having people around.
I already know that she’ll love Emily. She’s been waiting for one of us to find ‘the one’ and settle down, but Ruairi seems incapable of handling business and a personal life, and I’venever met anyone who wanted me for me before. Mostly, they want to get close to the Boss’s heir. My brother. It’s refreshing that Emily had no clue about our family background.
“We’re home, Gran,” I call out from the foyer.
“Not now,” my dad growls, unlocking the door to his study and dropping his travel bag just inside the door.
I see Gran’s face appear in the doorway at the end of the corridor and give her a wave as I follow him inside, closing the door behind me.
My dad walks around his desk, pulls the lid from a crystal decanter filled with brandy, and adds slugs to three heavy glass tumblers.
He slides two drinks across the desk to me and Ruairi and sits down heavily in his high-backed leather seat. Despite the journey, he looks as alert as ever, his gray-blue eyes skipping between me and my brother as we sit down opposite him.
“We’ve got a meeting scheduled to start in around—” he checks his wristwatch “—fifteen minutes.” He swallows a large mouthful of brandy and rocks back in his seat, studying the glass like it’s an important piece of art.
“Who with?” I leave my drink on the desk, untouched.
“She’s American.” My dad directs a level gaze my way, as if daring me to question the vagueness of his response. “We’re branching out.”
Ruairi downs his brandy in one go, and I sense that he was already aware of the meeting and the potential business venture. Maybe this is what they were discussing in the front of the car while I was picturing the many ways in which I want to fuck Emily.
“How far?” I return my dad’s stare.
“New York.”
A niggling sensation starts up at the back of my skull. An American visitor, I’m guessing from New York, arrives the same day that I meet Emily.
