And then we left, and we made out in the back of the taxi as if we were sixteen. Her lips tasted like good food and great wine, her tongue knowledgeable in a way Abigail’s never was. I’d been with a lot of women in my time, and Rachel was probably on the top of the list as far as experience went. Women in my day—they were innocent even when they weren’t. But it was fun, being with a woman who knew what she wanted.
We got to her place, and my hands had a mind of their own, slipping under her skirt, searching for that swollen bit of sexuality. However, she had other things in mind. She pushed me down on the couch and knelt in front of me, tugging at the zipper of my pants while my hands were still seeking, sliding under the top of her dress, brushing the hardened nubs of her nipples. It was a beautiful sight, such a gorgeous young woman on her knees in front of me. I thought I might lose it when she took my cock into her hands, sliding them both over my length, leaving nothing uncovered. And then her sweet, painted mouth sliding over my cock head…
Fuck!
Could anything feel so good? I had to concentrate to keep from blowing my wad the moment she took me in, the second her sweet tongue traced a line around my thick head. I lay back, forcing my thoughts onto something else as she swallowed me, taking more of my cock down her throat than I would have thought possible. I buried my fingers in her hair, guiding her to all the places that felt the best and losing myself in the sensation of her incredible mouth.
Fuck!
They didn’t do it like this back in the old neighborhood!
“God, baby!” I moaned, pushing at her forehead. “You got to stop!”
“It’s okay,” she said with that flirty smile.
Hell…
I lost it. I’d never come in a woman’s mouth before, but this was…you’re never too old for a new experience!
She climbed onto my lap as soon as I was spent and slipped me inside of her. She didn’t seem to mind that I wasn’t fully into it. I was still catching my breath. And watching her writhe on top of me was…I was getting into it. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. I slid my hands over her hips and tugged her down closer to me, groaning even as she dipped down to kiss me.
I could get used to this.
Chapter 3
Brian
Killian checked the rounds in his gun, making sure he had a full load. Kyle and Ian were both doing the same thing, shoving the pistols in shoulder holsters when they were done.
“All set?” I asked.
Killian lifted his leg, checking the smaller gun he had in an ankle holster. When he was done, he looked up at me, a long look that seemed to read something that I didn’t know was there.
“What’s going on with you, Pops? You look almost happy.”
“Do I?”
“Getting laid?” Ian asked.
“Don’t be crude,” Kyle said.
“Everyone knows their job,” I said. “Make sure the shipment gets in with no problems. Ian, if you spot anything at the warehouse that doesn’t look right, you give the signal to abort. Got it?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t worry, Pops,” Killian said, slamming his hand down on my shoulder. “We know what to do. We’ve been doing this long enough.”
I watched them head out, wondering what Abigail would say if she could see them now. She’d be proud of our boys, but she wouldn’t be thrilled with what I’ve exposed them to. They’ve each gone to jail at least once or twice, but I don’t allow them to run jobs for Jack anymore. Now it’s just the protection racket. We’d help Jack’s guys out when they needed extra security, and we’d act as bodyguards to special members of the family when necessary. Everything was on the up and up these days. No reason to put ourselves in danger.
But Abigail still wouldn’t like it. She’d never liked my relationship with Jack.
That man will get you killed one of these days.
She’d always been convinced I’d make her a widow. Instead, she died on me.
I followed the boys out and got into a car with Ian. He was quiet as we drove across town.
“You been to Vegas lately?”
Ian shook his head. “Things are running smoothly there. But I’ll probably fly out in a couple of months, just to make sure.”
“Who do you have in charge out there?”
“Mickey.”
I nodded. Mickey was one of the old guards, a guy Jack and I grew up with. I’d trust him with my life, but I wasn’t sure I was happy trusting him with my casino. It was a business venture that I got into some years ago. The idea was to move the whole family to Nevada. It was still the plan, sort of. The thing was, Abigail wanted to retire first, and then she got sick and things just…life has a habit of getting in the way. And then I put Ian in charge, and he put Mickey in charge…
I had to trust him.
“Have you heard from Stacy recently?”
“She’s engaged.”
My eyebrows rose. “To whom?”
“I don’t know. Some guy she met at school. I think he’s a professor.”
“Why hasn’t she called me?”
“You know she’s pissed at you since Mom died.”
Most of the kids had always felt closer to Abigail than me. Especially Stacy since she was the only girl. And when Abigail got sick, she didn’t want the kids to disrupt their lives and come stand around her hospital bed to watch her die. Stacy was still living with us at the time, but she was busy with school things. She was more than pissed when she found out our trip out of town was really a two-week stay at the hospital. She hasn’t said more than a few words to me since.
Maybe it was time for me to head to New York and set her straight.
Ian glanced at me. “She’ll come around.”
I shrugged. “Have you heard much about this delivery? I know you keep your ear to the ground.”
“Cops have everyone scared. Between them and Reilly’s gang, I’m surprised Jack went ahead with this. Should have waited another month or so.”
“I think the suppliers in Ireland were getting antsy.”
“Should have waited anyway. Getting everyone arrested isn’t going to make Ireland any happier.”
“No one’s getting arrested tonight. That’s what we’re here for.”
Ian gripped the steering wheel a little harder, but he didn’t say anything. We were getting close to the warehouse where Jack’s people wanted to bring the supply of guns they were taking off a ship tonight. Jack brought guns in from Ireland and sold them to local gangs for drugs. Then his people sold the drugs to rich assholes who thought they were the first generation to discover the benefits of cocaine. Then half the money went back to Ireland for more guns. It was a good system that had worked for fifty years—since the old crew was still in charge. Jack changed a few things when he took over twenty years ago, but not much. He was smart enough to know you don’t change something that works.
“Cops,” Ian said, his voice low and hard.
Sure enough, there was a dark sedan parked a block up from the warehouse. I tugged my phone out of my pocket and sent a text that was already written and prepared for this occasion. Best not to waste any time in these situations.
Ian pulled to a stop beside the sedan. The driver’s side window rolled down, and a smiling detective with alcohol-reddened cheeks smiled out at us.
“Hello, Brian,” he said.
“Anthony,” I said politely.
“Detective Scarsorsi,” he reminded me.
“Yes, of course.”
We looked each other over, as though we hadn’t seen each other last month when we had lunch at a local Italian place. Anthony and I grew up in the same neighborhood. His Irish mother lived with a distant cousin of my mother’s, so we were practically related. Everyone in an old Irish neighborhood is practically related.
“How’s your sister?”
“Good,” he said, touching his temple. “Husband of hers is a loser, but she’s making do with what little he offers her.”
“How’s Jack?”
I shrugged. “Man’s running a multi-billion-dollar conglomeration. How do you think he is?”
“Rich.”
I laughed. “You could say that.”
“And you? How you been?”
“Can’t complain.”
Anthony looked me over for a long moment. “Well, I guess you’ve called the dogs off.”
“That would be the wise thing to do.”
“If you don’t mind, we’ll just sit here a little longer, see what develops.”
“You do that, Anthony.”
Anthony leaned against the window and nodded to Ian.
“Take care of yourself, boy. Abigail would roll in her grave if she knew what you were up to tonight.”
“I think my mother would be right proud of me, Detective Scarsorsi.”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose, but then he settled back in his car and rolled up his window.
Ian guided the car into a careful U-turn and took us back toward town. MCorp had a couple of warehouses under the names of some of their smaller, less profitable businesses. One was right downtown, three blocks from the police station, a warehouse that was once a storefront housing the barbershop where Jack’s predecessors hung out. That’s where we were headed now.
It was so obvious the police likely overlooked it.
Ian and I arrived less than five minutes ahead of the trucks. Four trucks. A fucking lot of guns.
I must be getting old because just being here was making me nervous.
Ian and I opened the big doors at the back of the warehouse and watched the trucks drive inside, one at a time. Not as much space as there would have been at the other place, but they fit. I got my boys out of there, leaving Jack’s people to deal with whatever came next. Our job was done for the night.
***
“To another job well done,” I said, holding up a glass of good old Irish whiskey.
“Amen,” Ian said quietly, as the others said, “Salude.”
We downed our drinks and smacked the glasses on the bar. The bartender didn’t have to wait to be asked, he came over and poured more drinks.
“The cops are getting too close,” Killian said. “Jack needs to do something about that.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“He’s going to lose a shipment one of these days,” Sean added. “Those cops…”
“As long as you boys stay out of jail, that’s all that matters to me.”
“What if Jack goes down?”
I shrugged. “I’m protected. As far as the law knows, he and I are just business associates. He goes down, MCorp is mine.”
“Sweet deal.”
“Your mother was a good woman. She insisted we all sit down with a lawyer before we got into business together.”
“She thought you were legit,” Ian pointed out.
“For a while, yeah, she did.”
“Did she know about this, about us?” Killian asked. “Before she died?”
I looked over at him, but I didn’t think it was something I needed to answer. I swallowed the fresh drink in one gulp and picked up a handful of peanuts, swallowing them in one bite, too.
“I should go,” I said. “Got meetings in the morning.”
“Busy man,” one of the boys grumbled.
“Aren’t we all?”
I was stumbling out the door—booze seemed to go straight to my head these days—when I nearly ran into a beautiful woman I knew instantly. I’d thought I’d seen her a few times over the last week or so, but I kept telling myself it was just my imagination. But here she was, on the arm of some ruddy-faced man I’d never seen before.
“Cassidy?”
I had her arms in my hands to hold her up—or maybe she was holding me up—and her pretty face turned up to mine, a soft blush and the dim light hiding the expression in her perfect blue eyes. I’d never known a woman like her before or since I’d met her. She was a student at Boston College when I first met her over twenty years ago. Abigail and I were separated for the first time, her disillusionment with my association with Jack getting in the way of our blissful marriage. Killian was a toddler and Sean on the way, but Abigail was set on the idea that she couldn’t be with a man who could so carelessly break the law.
And then Cassidy…she was young and beautiful and fresh and new and everything I needed at the time.
Those days with her were the best six months of my life.
“Hello, Brian,” she said softly.
“What are you doing here? I’d thought you’d gone home long ago.”
“I did. Lived in Austin for years. But I’ve decided to make my home in Boston now.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
I studied her face, sensing there was something wrong with what she was saying. But I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
“We should go inside,” the man behind her said. We’d both forgotten about him.
She glanced back, then at me again.
“It’s nice to see you, Brian.”
I slipped a business card out of my wallet, somewhat relieved that I still carried them despite the fact that I hadn’t handed one out in months.
“Call me. We’ll get together sometime.”
She nodded, studying the card as she held it between her delicate fingers. I had a flash of memory of those fingers moving over my chest as I laughed at something she’d said. She hadn’t changed. She had the same beautiful curves and the same lovely smile she’d had back then. There were a few new wrinkles around her eyes, a splash of white in her dark hair. But otherwise, she could have been that same blue-eyed beauty I’d met all those years ago.
She moved around me and slipped into the bar, gone like a ghost. Like she’d never been.
I was suddenly less interested in going home than I had been before.
Chapter 4
Cassidy
My hands were still shaking. I spoke to him. That was the first step.
And now…lunch. It was just lunch. Why did I have to keep reminding myself of that?
I stared at myself in the mirror, patting my hair with wet hands, trying to smooth my already smooth hair back away from my face. He’d always liked my hair. I remembered how he ran his fingers through it when we lay together, the things he’d said about my resemblance to all these Greek goddesses…he didn’t even get their names right all the time. But just the thought was enough to make me putty in his hands.
I was a fool back then. A young girl who didn’t have the experience required to guard her heart properly. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I straightened my spine, pretending it was filled with lead. No one could hurt me as long as I could hold myself up and keep my dignity in place. Right?
I walked out into the restaurant and tried to smile when I saw him. Years of anger had built up, years of disappointment and grief for what might have been. Seeing him opened the floodgates and let it all come flowing out. I’d been watching him, following him, trying to figure out how to get close to him again. Last night had been a fluke. How was I supposed to know that the same random bar a friend—I did still have friends here in Boston—took me to would be the same he’d come stumbling out of? But it was fortuitous, and it made everything seem so random when it really wasn’t.
“I’m so glad you called,” Brian said, as he stood and held out his hands to me. “It’s been too long.”
“It has,” I agreed, trying to pretend I was just as happy to see him.
He hugged me, and I was a little surprised to find that he smelled the same. It wasn’t his cologne—though the expensive cologne he wore now was far different from the drug store variety that was all the rage twenty years ago—but something basic about him, a natural scent that was beneath the spice of his new cologne that was familiar. And it wasn’t just his scent. His height, his breadth, just the feel of his arms around me, was all the
same. It took me back and reminded me how much I enjoyed the feel of his touch all those years ago.
If only I’d felt half as much comfort in my husband’s arms, maybe we wouldn’t be divorced today.
I stepped away, a little confused by the tremble that rushed through me, the imbalance that struck and caused me to practically fall into the waiting chair. Brian didn’t seem to notice. He slipped into his own chair with a grace men shouldn’t possess.
“How have you been?”
I looked over at him, wondering if he wanted me to summarize the entire past twenty-some odd years of my life, or just the highlights. Like he had a right to know. He could have been a part of it, if he’d wanted. But…
“I’m good,” I said, quashing the anger as best as I could. “And you?”
He was still wearing his wedding ring, the same ring I once took off and slipped into his jeans pocket whenever he’d meet me at our little spot, a diner not far from the college campus. It almost hurt to look at it, to remember what it felt like to watch him slip it back on his finger whenever he left my bed.
“I can’t complain,” he said, a spark coming into his eyes as he looked at me. “Business is good. My sons are still living in the area.” He sat back a little and seemed to think about it. “Life is pretty good, actually.”
“And Abigail?”
He glanced down at his hand, his thoughts moving to that ring as mine had done. “She died. Five years ago.”
That caught me by surprise. She was older than I was, but not by much. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, as though it was meaningless. However, I could see the hurt and the grief that came into his eyes.
“It was quick. Pancreatic cancer. She was gone a little over a month after diagnosis.”
“That’s tough.”
He shrugged again. “What about you? Are you married?”
“Divorced.”
He inclined his head slightly, his eyes looking through me the way they’d always done. I once swore he could read my thoughts before they were born in my mind. He denied it, but he could see me in a way no one else ever had. I thought that meant something, all those years ago. But then I realized he was just a charmer, a man who knew what to do and what to say to get a woman to do what he wanted. I was just a naive child who fell for his schemes.
COLE (Dragon Security Book 1) Page 33
