Dirty Truth: An Irish Mafia Romance (Dirty Liar Book 2)

by KB Winters

  Emmett couldn’t argue with me. Not with that logic. He didn’t have any brothers of his own—he only had the brotherhood. But he’d go to the wall just the same for any of his brothers the way I was for Flynn—of that, I had no doubt. And I knew he’d even do the same for me. He’s the only brother who could say the things he did to me and get away with it. But that was because deep down, I knew he had my best interests at heart.

  “Your father would be proud of you, son,” Emmett finally said.

  It seemed like an odd thing to say, but it still meant a lot to me. My father and I might have had our differences, but he was always me da and deep down, I always wanted his approval. It wasn’t something I ever got, so to have Emmett—who knew my da, arguably, better than anybody—say what he did, made me feel good. Me da would always hold a special place in my heart. Maybe I didn’t take the path he’d set out for me, but we were family.

  And there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for family.

  ***

  “Dave, you have some contacts within Mayhem MC, right?” I asked.

  He nodded. “They come in a lot, sure.”

  When Emmett mentioned their ties to the Russians earlier, it gave me an idea. While most of the MC was tight with the Russian mob, all it took was one, tiny little fracture within their group for us to get our foot in the door.

  I was hoping to expand our gun dealings with them, for the sake of the syndicate, but I thought we could also exploit those contacts we had with the hope someone could shed some light on who was trying to kill me as well. Maybe one of the Russians—or somebody else altogether—had said something, or let something slip, to somebody in the MC. Or maybe it was one of the Mayhem crew behind the actual attempt on my life.

  I had no idea, but it seemed like it might be worth a shot. If nothing else, we were going to be able to expand our gun deals and bring in some extra cash. Not to mention giving the brothers a common goal to work toward.

  “Know anyone who might be on the outs with the Mayhem boys?” I asked. “Maybe somebody struggling under the current leadership who might be interested in having a little chat?”

  Dave seemed to pick up on what I was asking and where I was going with it, and he nodded. “Hell yeah. A few of the guys have been coming in, getting drunk off their asses and talking about the MC’s president. Not sure about the Russians, but not everyone is happy with the current leadership, that’s for sure. I don’t doubt we could get some of them talking. Swing ‘em over to our side.”

  “Think we might be able to flip any of them?” I asked. “Get them to turn on the club president? Because I’m thinking a regime change might be in our best interest.”

  “Hard to say. MC’s are tight,” he said. “I reckon anything is possible, though.”

  I nodded. “Get on that. Find out what you can, please,” I said. “See if there’s someone who might talk to us and be willing to work with us.”

  “Good idea, mate.”

  Sometimes things came together. Not often, but sometimes. It was a bit of a Hail Mary, but it was worth a shot at the very least. Emmett was right. Lately, all I’d been focused on was trying to figure out who was trying to kill me, and even more so, who had framed my brother. My attention hadn’t been on the syndicate’s agenda, but my own. After giving it some thought after I’d talked to Emmett, I could see how that might rub some of the guys the wrong way.

  And considering the fact that these guys already didn’t trust Flynn, by letting them see how much time I devoted to clearing his name, I was slowly eating away at the little trust they had. And all the while, because I’d been so focused on my own personal agenda, business deals were passing us by. I needed to clean this mess up. My position at the top of the syndicate—if not the syndicate itself—depended upon it.

  I figured it could only help us if I put some feelers out there, see if I could find a weak spot within the MC and then exploit the hell out of it. If this thing fell through with Mayhem, I had a backup plan in place. I was going to talk to the Mexicans. And if that failed, there were smaller street gangs we could get behind to help us expand our business interests.

  We could make this work. I had no illusions—I knew I wasn’t an ideal leader for the syndicate. But because of the blood in me veins, I was the only man left to run the operation. Otherwise, it would be placed in the hands of someone other than an O’Brien. And at the mere thought of that, I knew it would be the final nail in Donal O’Brien’s coffin—so to speak. He was barely hangin’ on by a thread as it was, and allowing the syndicate to fall from our family would dishonor the very structure and leadership he’d founded.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Maggie

  “A penny for your thoughts,” I said, as I rubbed Aidan’s shoulders.

  He was tense, I could feel it in his shoulders, back, and neck. Not only that, he’d been a bit shorter and more snarky since that phone call from Amon earlier in the day. I didn’t know who the guy was or what he was about, but I didn’t like the tension it caused. I was hoping he would talk to me about it.

  We curled up on his couch after dinner. It was the second night in a row I stayed over with him, but as we sat there on his couch, he seemed more distant than usual. Quieter, too. All throughout dinner, he’d hardly said a word, letting me do most of the talking. Not that I had a problem with that, but it worried me to see him so lost in his thoughts. Getting him to carry on a conversation with me was like pulling teeth.

  Aidan sighed, relaxing and let his body melt against mine with his eyes partially closed. He seemed content as we snuggled together on his sofa, letting some soft jazz music wash over us and fill the room.

  “I’m just being pulled in too many directions, you know? Spread a little thin.” He surprised me by opening up so easily. He opened his eyes, but instead of looking into mine, he stared straight up at the ceiling. I could see the tension and strain on his face. “The syndicate, work, my own brother—and let’s not forget the fact that someone, somewhere, wants me dead.”

  “Not to sound bossy, but I think staying alive should probably be your biggest priority,” I said with a wink.

  “Aye, I know,” he said. “Where do I even start? I’d like to think there were so few, it would be easy to narrow down a list of people who want me dead. But all things considered—”

  “In our line of work, it could be anyone. Disgruntled clients, families of disgruntled clients. Anybody, really.”

  He nodded but said nothing. And then, of course, there was what he does in addition to his career and the family he belonged to. But that went without saying. That lifestyle had plenty of inherent risks. But as lawyers, we tended to make a lot of enemies, too. So he was right about that, it could be anyone. A past client he failed to free, the victim of one of the clients he’d freed. There was an incredibly lengthy line of people who hated Aidan’s guts—and that was even before we’d even gotten into the whole organized crime thing.

  “What can I say? I’m a wanted man,” he said with a smirk.

  He turned to me, and I stared into his eyes as he looked into mine. We both smiled.

  “Fuck yeah, you’re wanted. You’re not entirely wrong on that count.”

  “Mmm... I’d say that counts for a lot.”

  He leaned into me, kissing me, and my heart still palpitated like the first time we’d kissed. As I relished in the feel of his lips pressed to my own and his tongue dancing with mine, I knew I’d never get tired of this man kissing me. No matter how many times he did it. And of course, the kiss ignited a fire between my thighs and gradually turned into something more—just as I’d hoped it would. Fucking him was something else I’d never grow tired of.

  With my hands sliding from his shoulders down to his chest, I worked at the buttons of his shirt, the fire inside of me starting to burn out of control. As I popped his buttons, Aidan’s hands moved to the back of my head and he pulled me toward him, forcing me even closer to him than before as our kissing grew more intense, more p
assionate.

  I made quick work of his shirt and ran my hands down his chest. Every other time we’d hooked up, it was quick, frantic, rushed and full of so much need, we didn’t stop and explore each other’s bodies. Not like I was taking the time to do now.

  Aidan’s smooth, muscular chest was magnificent—soft, with a light dusting of dark hair. Not too much, but just enough to run my hands through it as I trailed my fingertips lower, sliding them down to work at the buckle on his pants.

  Aidan’s mouth moved to my neck, kissing and sucking and I gasped in delight. His soft kisses sent chills down my spine, but it was his eager love bites that really drove me wild. I shuddered against him, working faster at removing his pants but finding the pleasure coursing through my body made me tremble, made my fingers clumsier and not quite as nimble as they normally were.

  Aidan slipped his hand underneath my skirt, pushing my panties aside, and used his fingertips to gently slide across my lips—circling my clit, but never actually touching it. I moaned as he teased me, made my entire body grow wild with need and desire.

  “Please, baby—” I muttered, biting my lip. “Please.”

  “Please what?” he asked, teasing me with a sultry smile. “What do you want me to do to you, Maggie?”

  “I thought you were the boss…”

  “I am, and I’m telling you—no, I’m demanding that you tell me exactly what you want.”

  “I want you to fuck me, baby.”

  “How? How do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, leaning down and biting my neck a little too hard.

  I jumped and cried out, but not in pain. I wasn’t the dominant sort, not in the slightest. Which was yet another reason I was so attracted to Aidan. He was always the boss, always the one in control around the office—and as I was learning—in bed as well. I liked when he took control, told me what to do and how to do it. It made me grow so incredibly wet when he did.

  “I want you to fuck me, right here,” I said, my voice a little too soft.

  “What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he teased, continuing to circle my clit with the tips of his fingers, but never sliding them inside of me.

  “Take me, baby. Right here, right now. Fuck me.” I was squirming against his hand, yearning for him to really touch me, to go deep with his fingers—or even better, with his cock.

  “Not just yet,” he said, drawing a frustrated moan from me.

  He gave me a sultry grin as he slid down my body, moving down between my legs. I watched him part my thighs, spreading me open and kiss me. He teased my pussy with the softness of his lips. I wriggled on the couch, his soft touch teasing me, driving me crazier than I’d ever felt before. The fire inside of me was raging and I needed him to quench my need.

  “Please, please, Aidan—”

  The tip of his tongue circled my clit—much like his finger had before. It only made me hotter and wetter as I squirmed beneath his touch. He moved down, pulling me down too so I was lying flat on the couch and he positioned himself between my legs, staring up at me, making sure I was watching. He flashed me a salacious grin and lowered his head.

  There was no way I couldn’t watch him—especially as he licked me, slowly, taunting my opening with his tongue. I fisted his hair, pulling him in closer, pressing his face down into me. Aidan responded by sliding his tongue inside of me, making me almost scream out with the intensity that had built up—thanks to his prolonged teasing. He fucked me with his mouth, teasing, licking and then sucking my lips and clit, his tongue doing wicked things causing me to thrash wildly beneath him as he pleasured me.

  “Oh God... Oh God, yes...”

  I could feel the climax building up within me quickly. I was so close—so very close. And just when I hit the peak and was about to topple over that edge into ecstasy, he pulled back, leaving me there, waiting. Yearning. Wanting. On the very edge of orgasm, but not reaching it.

  “No, no, don’t stop!” I gasped. “Please don’t stop!”

  He looked at me with a mischievous grin on his face. He was enjoying this. Tormenting me. Making me squirm. Making me hungrily anticipate my blissful release.

  Desperation took hold. “Please, Aidan. Please—”

  “Please what?” he asked again.

  “Fuck me,” I said. “Please, fuck me until I come, baby. I need you so badly. I need you to make me come so hard. Please, baby, make me come.”

  I reached out to him, touching his face and trying my damnedest to get him on top of me. But Aidan wasn’t a man to be bossed around. That devilish grin appeared upon his face again, his lips and chin slick with my juices.

  He stood up and commanded me, “Turn around.”

  I quickly did as I was told, getting to my feet, and turning my back to him. He roughly grabbed my shoulder with one hand and put his other on my waist. With an animalistic growl, Aidan bent me over the arm of the couch. I was dripping wet, eagerly anticipating what was to come. My ass in the air, I looked over my shoulder with hungry eyes as I felt him press himself up against me.

  His cock was so close to my quivering pussy, and I moved backward, trying to close the distance and slide that beautiful shaft deep into me. Aidan took a step back and smacked me hard on the ass. I cried out as the sound of his hand meeting my flesh echoed around the room. Aidan smiled as he rubbed my stinging ass cheek tenderly.

  “Again,” I said, shocking myself.

  I’d never thought of myself as a girl who was into spanking, so my words—and the sincere desire behind them—caught me by surprise. And for his part, Aidan seemed just as surprised as I was. But he gladly obliged, smacking my ass once more— this time, with a little more zeal. Though my skin stung where he’d smacked me, I cried out in pleasure, my body shuddering as I grabbed hold of the couch with my hands, my nails digging into the fabric.

  Before I could ask for a third smack, Aidan surprised me once more—not by smacking me before I asked—but by shoving his cock deep inside my tight, little pussy. My eyes grew wide as he filled me up completely, stretching me open, and plunging deep inside of me.

  Grabbing my hair, I winced and then smiled as he pulled my head back and positioned me just right. When he had me where he wanted me, Aidan started thrusting his long, thick shaft in and out of me. I was his little rag doll. With one hand pulling my hair, the other holding my ass in place, he fucked me like a wild man, driving his cock into me over and over again, deep and hard. I groaned and called his name as my entire body trembled with pleasure.

  I was completely lost in the moment, relishing the sensation of Aidan’s dick deep inside of me—which was yet another sensation that I’d never, ever grow tired of, no matter how many times we fucked.

  “Oh Mags, fuck yes...” he said, his breath shallow and ragged.

  His nails were digging into my flesh, and I could tell he was losing control. He let go of my hair, and my head fell forward against the arm of the couch. I dug my fingers into the fabric tightly, holding my body in place as he pounded his cock into me harder and faster than ever before. We might have started off slowly, savoring each other and taking the time to explore our bodies, but now it was like Aidan had finally let himself go. He was letting himself enjoy my body in ways I never imagined, and judging by the sounds escaping his throat, I could tell he was enjoying every last second of it.

  As was I. Words were lost on me. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, and I was nothing but a bundle of intense sensation. All I could do was mutter his name—over and over again. That, and “Oh God.”

  My eyes rolled back into my head, and my toes curled up, almost painfully. Aiden was the best fuck I’d ever had in my entire life. And I knew it could only get better from here. The more comfortable we got with each other—the more free we’d feel with one another. And the more free we felt, the better it would be.

  But for the moment, I couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

  My vaginal muscles started to tighten around him, clenching and unclenching, as a wave
of pleasure hit me hard, nearly throwing me for a loop. It was a precursor to an orgasm of incredible intensity, I knew. But not yet. Not yet, but oh, was it close to crashing down over me.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I muttered, feeling my entire body tighten up, preparing for the moment of bliss that was just around the bend.

  But Aidan had other plans.

  He pulled his stiff cock out of my pussy, causing me to cry out once more—this time in desperation as I was denied my climax for the second time.

  Picking me up, Aidan turned me over and laid me back down on the couch, crawling on top of me. There was fire of madness in his eyes and a look of pure lust on his face—both things combined to make me even wetter, make my pussy pulse, and make me need him inside of me in ways I’d never experienced before.

  “I want to look into your eyes when you come, Maggie,” he said, smiling as he lowered himself on top of me.

  I reached for his dick, grasping it in a tight fist, and stroked him as I guided him to my opening—not that he needed the help. He slid right inside of me like our bodies had been made for this. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I dug my nails into his shoulders and held on for dear life as he began to pound me wildly, thrusting and driving his cock deep inside of me. It wasn’t long before he brought me back to that amazing and glorious peak once more.

  Holding himself on his arms above me, he fucked me like before—quick, fast, and with a strong sense of desperation in his movements. The need was written on his face, too—in the way his eyes kept rolling back into his head every time he thrust inside of me to the way his jaw was clenched tight. He grunted and groaned, almost like he was fighting with himself to not lose too much control too quickly. He wanted this to last, to savor every second—and I loved him for it.