Devil's Gamble

by Michele Arris

  The rapid beat of her pulse was felt in every nerve-ending throughout her body as fear and anger filled her full to bursting. She sent him a hard warning glare. “If you think you’re getting your hands on any child of mine, you must be nine kinds of crazy.”

  “Sie-Sie, I got this.” Gavin lightly squeezed her hand.

  Murtagh threw his head back in that roaring, blow-your-cheeks-back, wind-tunnel laughter, eyes crinkled tight. “Oh, lass, I do like you. Gavin, you did well with this one. Now if you birth me a grandson, you will win my favor, all the more. And we will have the wedding here.” His tone was resolute; the man expected to be obeyed.

  He took more swallows from the bottle, then cut a sideways look at Dylan, forehead creased. “Angie still has yet to give me a grandchild. It’s been a year and nothing.”

  “Pop, stop,” Gavin muttered with an apologetic look at Dylan before turning to Sienna. “Go downstairs.” He palmed her cheeks and kissed her softly on the mouth, lingering, then whispered, “We’ll leave soon. I promise.”

  With great reluctance, Sienna left the room, but not before sending Murtagh another rigid warning. “Don’t forget what I said.” The man’s roaring laughter followed her out.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “We have to hit back and hit hard.”

  “Shut up, Eddie, or get out,” Gavin bellowed.

  “Yeah, Eddie.” Dylan shoved him hard in the shoulder. “This shit’s not some fucking video game.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s war.” Murtagh rounded his desk. He sent Bran a nod of dismissal. When the door closed, he said, “Edwin is right.” Retrieving a cigar from the mahogany wooden box on his desk, he used the solid gold guillotine cutter birthday gift to clip the tip. “I need to make clear who now rules the southeast. It won’t take long before word spreads of McCrae’s death. There will be many looking to take control of his territory. A firm message must be sent branding the Kavanagh mark.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Miser stepped inside. “It was the O’Learys.” No preamble. “They were behind it.”

  “Seriously? The fucking O’Learys?” Dylan jerked his head between them all. “They’re southwest territory. What are they doing going after the southeast? McCrae has deals in place with them.”

  “There’s been a lot of infighting according to that lackey I’ve been questioning out back,” Miser commented. “The twin brothers, Declan and Finn, both want control now that their father is dead. Finn chose to take from what he thought was a weak clan to start building his own. He got his intel from a man named Mullen, a low level within McCrae’s rank. Seeing that his boss’s health was on the decline, Mullen saw an opportunity to rise up.”

  “He thought wrong.” Puffing his cigar, getting it to kindle nicely, Murtagh reared back in his chair. “Get your team in place. Find Mullen. Gavin will be heading this one.”

  “Like hell I will.” Gavin rubbed his aching forehead. “Pop, I said I’m not in this.” So much unnecessary violence. All he wanted was to live his life free of it, continue his role as GM at Lucas’s company, and live happily with Sienna and any children they might have. Take out the trash. Take his family on vacations and watch his kid open gifts on Christmas morning. Normal shit. His father coming to his feet derailed his thoughts. “Pop, I can’t be part of any of it. I have Sienna to think about.”

  The room went eerily silent for a long moment. The man’s green gaze held Gavin in a viper hold as he placed the cigar in the ashtray, came around to the front of the desk, and sat on the edge. “What do you think happened to that bloke you beat to a bloody pulp?” Murtagh cocked his head. “We don’t leave loose ends, son. You’ve been in this whether you want to admit it or not.”

  Gavin looked at Miser and was sent a Machiavellian grin. Sweat beaded the back of his neck as he imagined Dale’s awful demise at the hands of his sick and sadistic cousin. No, at his own hands. The moment he got Kavanagh involved to find Dale, he’d sealed the man’s fate. Dale’s death was on his hands. His chest constricted with excruciating torment and unrelenting guilt, so tight, he couldn’t breathe. Backing away, shaking his head, the room spun on its axis as he digested the horror of his actions. “I can’t do this . . . can’t be here,” he choked out, swung open the door, and fled from the room.

  Murtagh rushed to the door. “If you walk away, you keep fucking walking, you hear me! Things are about to get hot, and you’ll get no protection from me, boy, understand! Nothing! Banished!” he barked.

  Gavin stumbled; his breath hitched. He pivoted, facing his father. Dylan and Eddie stared back at him within the frame of the door.

  “Pop, don’t! You don’t mean that. Tell him you didn’t mean it,” Dylan pleaded.

  “Yeah, Pop, come on, don’t banish him,” Eddie followed.

  “You heard me! He’s banished!” Murtagh thundered and pointed a stiff finger across the room. “If I find out that either of you had any contact with him, you’ll be granted the same.”

  Doing his best not to let the anguish of those words affect him, Gavin turned, and headed to the basement.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Sienna came out of the bathroom wearing a towel wrapped around her. She dropped it to the floor, sat on the edge of the bed, and began rubbing moisturizer over her body. “That shower felt fantastic . . . just what I needed.”

  Giving a look over her shoulder, Gavin lay with his back to her. He hadn’t said a word the entire ride home.

  When he came to the basement to get her, the weight of the day showed in his weary eyes. He’d kissed his grandmother, hugging her tightly while whispering something in her ear that actually had the crabby woman tearing up. Then, he did the same to both Caren and Abela. Both ladies’ expressions mirrored Nana Rue’s. His behavior was like that of a man about to go on a long, faraway journey.

  The car ride was filled with one word responses to everything she’d said, until he’d finally muttered, “‘I’m tired. Please, no more questions.’” She’d let the matter drop. Now that they were home, away from the wackadoo Kavanaghs, her curiosity outweighed her understanding of his need to rest. She wanted to know what took place after she’d left the office.

  “Gavin?”

  “Hmm?”

  She turned off the lamp and slid in beneath the covers. Her bare breasts brushed enticingly at his back. She draped a leg over his hip, intent on grinding against his bare buttocks, but he was in his underwear. That was a surprise. She’d expected he’d be naked and eagerly waiting for her to join him.

  Slipping a hand inside his boxer-briefs, stroking his surprisingly flaccid length, while administering kisses on the back of his neck, she asked, “Are you going to share with me what happened in the meeting with your father after I left the room?”

  “Nothing happened,” he muffled into the pillow.

  “Nothing happened, huh? So, for about forty-five minutes I waited in the basement while you, your brothers, and your father just hung out, shooting the shit with one another?” Silence. “Fine, don’t tell me.” Getting frustrated, she rolled away from him and jerked the comforter up over her shoulder. “You want to shut me out of your little family meeting? Whatever.”

  Slowly, he turned and got on top of her, settling between her thighs with his legs spread, his knees baring most of his weight. But that was it. His face stayed buried at the side of her neck. Wetness slicked against her skin. He was crying. Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! Concern jolted her pulse, pounding rapidly. With both arms, she enveloped them protectively around his back and locked her ankles over his hips, sheltering him tight.

  “I love you,” she whispered and stroked his body, soothing fingers massaging as more hot tears soaked her flesh. “Babe, what’s wrong?” The room was pitch dark. The digital red numbers on the clock its only illumination.

  “Babe?” Witnessing this strong, powerful man so broken, worry welled up inside her, so strong that she could hardly breathe. Gathering her nerves, she tried to focus. He’d taken care of
her. It was her turn to do the same for him.

  As she continued to run a caressing hand up and down his back and threaded fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp, she voiced softly, “Sweetheart, whatever it is, we can get through it together. But we can’t do that until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  A heavy, shuddering breath left him. “You deserve better,” he said, his tone, a low, plaintive murmur as an unsteady hand palmed her cheek. “When I look at you, I see pure light, goodness, perfection. Me? I’m my father, a thug perpetrating as a business man. A thug, that’s what I am. I’m not destined to be anything more than that. I proved it when I went after Dale.” His voice shook on those last words.

  Sienna reached over and clicked on the table lamp. His head lay cradled within the well of her right neck and shoulder. “Gavin?” she called softly after a stretch of silence. A faint sniffle, then he released another breathy sigh. She palmed his wet cheeks and brought his head up. “Baby, look at me.” His eyelids lifted. Tears soaked his blond lashes. “What happened in the office after I left?” Anguish sealed his features down tight. “Please, talk to me.”

  “I’m not worthy of you, but I love you, and I don’t know how to let you go,” he said through ragged pulls of his breath.

  Fear gripped her. “What do you mean, let me go? What are you saying? Did your father tell you that you had to stop seeing me? He couldn’t have checked me out already.” She got a puzzled look. “Caren said your father has everyone checked out before they can become part of your family.”

  “No.” It was all he said as he peeled out of his underwear, then captured her left breast in his mouth, nipping and sucking like it was his last meal before kissing a path up her neck to her mouth, tonguing her greedily. His lips trailed a warm path down her body, and lower, licking her inner thighs. A soft moan reverberated against her clit.

  “I love your scent, your taste, I love you.”

  He devoured her pussy with long, tongue-stroking skill, so much so, she was quivering through an amazing orgasm in seconds. With haste, he came up and entered her on a whisper of her name, but kept up a slow rocking, measured and controlled, yet his kisses were feral, rough as if starved, desperate.

  Their push and pulls gained the slightest momentum before they pitched over the cliff together. With a final shudder, he eased off her, but remained snug against her body with one leg snaked between hers, the slickness of his semen smearing between their joined thighs. A soft sniffle left him as he placed a gentle kiss upon her shoulder.

  Sienna released a long, glorious sigh, slaked beyond coherent reasoning. “Wow, though it was pretty quick, I think that one takes top honors.” No playful reply. “Babe, please talk to me.” And he finally did. He spilled it all, the impending retaliatory battle his father was about to wage, his banishment from the family, right down to him feeling responsible for Dale’s demise. The things she learned rocked her to her core with fear and grief, but the remorse and sorrow she could see in his drowning blue eyes, his guilt over Dale’s likely cruel death would be a lifelong punishment for him.

  Holding him close, she administered light kisses upon his cheek, forehead, chin, and a gentle peck upon his lips, then reared back to meet his gaze.

  “Even after everything Dale did to me, I hurt for how he may have suffered. As for your father, that’s his war, not yours. You’re not him.” Sienna came up and got on top of him; their warm naked bodies pressed tightly together. “You have a great career with Lucas and a wife-to-be who loves you.” A tear slid down his right temple that she swept away with her thumb. “Hey, let’s get married in Vegas.”

  He blinked rapidly, then his blue eyes leveled, fixed, tentative. “Really? You still want to marry me even after everything I’ve told you?”

  “Yes, and I’m sure as hell not getting married at the Kavanagh compound.” A man died in that house, there was no way she would host her wedding there. Nor did she want to invite the Kavanaghs to her happy day. “Not gonna happen. And no offense, but your people are cray-cray.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, and I’m banished, so you don’t have to worry about inviting any of them.”

  Hurt and anguish were visible in his gaze. “Give your father time to cool off.” No reply. “Are we getting married or not?”

  He sat up, taking her with him. “I’ll hit up Sean to see if we can borrow his gulfstream.” He reached to the nightstand for his cell.

  She caught his wrist. “Perfect, but not yet.” She took hold of his semi-hard cock, and delivered swift pumps, her hand working his shaft, easily giving it life, then lifted, and guided the length of him along the wet walls of her eagerly clutching channel. “First, I’m going to ride you, Mr. Crane.”

  A slow smile grazed his lips as firm hands latched onto her bare buttocks. “Oh most definitely.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  A quarter past midnight, standing before the officiant, surrounded by his buddies, all of whom came to stand as witnesses, Gavin was about to marry the woman of his dreams, a woman far out of his league, and far more than he deserved.

  As it had been at Lucas’s wedding, a best man hadn’t been chosen. Each one of his buddies that stood at his back, physically and figuratively, held the title. Behind Sienna, Bailey’s bright white smile of approval was blinding as she clutched in her hand the platinum band within the black velvet box. Thanks to Lucas’s jeweler’s impeccable customer service, Gavin picked up the rings before they’d left for Vegas.

  “Dearly beloved,” the officiant started, “love is an adventure. It cultivates like the universe itself only by perpetual exploration. Love between two people whose passion for one another brings them to this point of sharing a boundless . . . ”

  As the man went on, Gavin wanted to tell him to speed it up. He held his breath, expecting the roof would cave in, something, anything that would prevent Sienna from saying the two most important words in the world in that moment.

  Dressed in a simple white sleeveless dress and white strappy heel sandals, his lady resembled a beautiful angel. She’d picked out his wedding get-up—black button-down, long sleeve shirt over a black suit coat and black slacks. She’d told him it was her day to have him however she wanted. She could’ve put him in a rainbow beanie, and he wouldn’t have objected . . . well, maybe a little. As long as she didn’t back out, he didn’t care what he wore.

  “Please join hands,” the officiant finally said after a lengthy speech.

  Gavin took her hands in his; his gaze locked with hers. Her smile lit up her beautiful eyes, not appearing the least bit nervous. Yet, he was close to sweating through his tailored shirt.

  “Do you, Sienna Grace Keller, take Gavin Rowan Crane to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have, to hold, and to love, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

  “I do.”

  Releasing a quiet breath, Gavin lightly stroked his fingers at her palms with a subtle look upward. The roof hadn’t caved in on them. So far, so good.

  “Do you, Gavin Rowan Crane, take Sienna Grace Keller to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have, to hold, and to love, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

  “I do.”

  “Do we have the rings?” the officiant asked.

  Gavin retrieved the five-carat emerald cut solitaire from his jacket pocket, and Bailey handed Sienna the platinum band.

  The officiant turned to Gavin. “Please repeat after me. With—”

  “Wait. Let’s do this part together.” Sienna brought up the wedding band. She stuck out her left hand, fingers splayed. “Cross your arm with mine.”

  Gavin was a bit confused for a moment but quickly caught up. He extended his arm beneath hers, their wrists crossing. She nodded to the officiant to continue.

  “Please place the rings on your fingers and repeat after me. With this . . . these rings, I . . . we thee wed.” Gavin heard one of his buddy’s soft chuckle behind him at the officiant’s confusion from being thrown off sc
ript.

  Together, they slipped the rings on each other’s finger, repeated their vows, and then linked hands, hers squeezing lightly.

  “By the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Gavin took his wife into his arms and kissed her, unable to stop, unable to let go.

  “Uh, bro?” Dax tapped him on the shoulder. “You might want to come up for air sometime soon.”

  He forced himself to pull away and rested his forehead gently against hers. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “You love her. She loves you. Great. Let’s celebrate.” Dax pulled a small toy horn from his inside jacket pocket and blew.

  Chapter Forty

  Sienna’s gasps of pleasure fell in chorus with the delicious pounding Gavin was giving her from behind. On her knees in the middle of the bed, legs spread, his cock slid rapidly in and out of her with precise deftness. She could hardly catch her breath. The nonstop, hard thrusting went on for long minutes as she gripped the sheets for some semblance of purchase, her body caught in a tidal wave of pleasurable sensation.

  A sudden, deep guttural moan escaped him. He tensed, gripped her buttocks tight, and took his release, filling her so full that his semen streamed down her inner thighs. He kept pumping his hips, draining his penis to depletion, then blew out a ragged breath and rolled off onto his back. She collapsed to the mattress in exhausted bliss, yet looked forward to being woken later for another round. It had been that way for the past several nights. He’d been fucking her at last count three times a day. He’d said he couldn’t get enough of her. The feeling was mutual.

  Sucking in much needed air to soothe her parched lungs, she turned her head on the pillow to look at him. Eyes closed, his sweaty chest heaved. She smiled at his weary look of utter gratification. “How would you rate that one?”