Connelly Crime Family Trilogy

by Winters, KB

  Eamon was an island. He didn’t need anyone not born with the last name Connelly. More importantly, he didn’t want them.

  “Stay.”

  Damn him! That one word had the power to undo me completely.

  I should have listened carefully to the warning bells that sounded in my head. The really loud ones. I really should have fucking listened.

  ***

  “This is no morning blowjob but I ain’t complaining.”

  I didn’t know what came over me but after that delicious sandwich and two more soul-crushing orgasms, in the kitchen and then on the stairs, we fell into a dreamless heap on the bed. But when I woke up hours later with the sun cutting through the large windows of Eamon’s bedroom, I felt a desperate need to have him.

  The need came and it was urgent, like something had possessed me to just take what I wanted. I turned and saw Eamon and in that one split second, he was all I wanted and, still naked from the night before, my hand started a slow, rhythmic caress on his already hardening cock.

  I wanted him with a hunger I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because this was our last few moments together before we went off and lived the rest of our lives completely ignorant of what the other would be doing. Or maybe it was that my body was addicted to the painful pleasure found in his bed. I couldn’t explain it, and honestly, I had no desire to explain or examine it. All I wanted was to experience it. Enjoy it.

  And I was.

  I swung my leg over him and guided his cock to my entrance. Looking down at him, his eyes sleepy and his mouth curved into a lazy grin, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was beautiful in a way that a man shouldn’t be, not when he was a sex-trading mobster I caught beating the shit out of my dad.

  “Layla.”

  His head rolled back as his hands tightened on my hips, and he thrusted deeper into me until he was so deep, such a part of me, that real worry settled low in my belly. Was I developing feelings for this man?

  “No!”

  Eamon’s eyes flew open and he froze mid-stroke and another, embarrassing kind of fear gripped me.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded quickly and tightened around him. “Just … it feels too good.”

  “Nothing feels too good, princess.” He punctuated the words by drawing back and stroking deep inside me, touching parts of me I didn’t know existed. Another loud groan tore from his throat and Eamon grinned.

  “Okay you do feel damn good.”

  I felt the smile the moment it touched my lips and forced my hips to move. I tossed my head back, unwilling to let him see just how much his words pleased me.

  “Right back at you.”

  I didn’t want to talk, not when he filled me so deliciously. Not when our bodies communicated every single thing we needed to say to each other.

  We didn’t need words, not when his eyes spoke of endless pleasure and his grip told the tale of possessiveness. It was different. I was different that morning. Bold and daring, confident, even as his fucking shook me to my core, sending pesky emotions best left alone skittering to the surface. It was slow and sensual, the kind of sex that people wrote songs about, with lots of guitar and maybe even a saxophone.

  “You still with me, Layla?”

  I nodded and ground my hips faster and faster, chasing down the pleasure that wouldn’t be stopped until it made me its bitch, a fiend who wouldn’t stop until I had experienced total fucking bliss.

  “Right … there!”

  His thumb went to my clit, an unnecessary but not unwelcome addition to the wave of pleasure determined to carry me away. Back and forth, around and around my hips went, a rhythm of their own creation. I moved faster, grinding on him until sweat dripped down my spine, until his hands could barely grip my breasts, they were so slick from our coming together that we were just sliding against each other like animals as we both barreled toward sweet, satisfying pleasure.

  Only there was nothing sweet or satisfying about the pleasure that dropped on me like ten tons of water. It was hard and visceral, instinctual as our bodies continued to bump and grind and claw at each other, frantic for those last threads of pleasure. His body jerked with his orgasm and mine tensed, sending him deeper and triggering a second wave of pleasure before the first was complete.

  Eamon chuckled as I collapsed on top of him, his hands circled my waist and then he surprised the hell out of me when his fingertips began to dance over my heated flesh.

  “That was unexpected.”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t, mostly because I was still trying to suck down some oxygen but also because emotion clogged my throat. And I wasn’t having any of that.

  Damn, the sex was too good. I knew the trouble with good dick and great sex. They made women stupid. Perfectly reasonable women were made irrational and emotional when it came to a man who could make their clit swell and toes curl on command. I refused to let myself be that woman, so I slapped a smile on face and sat up so I could look down at Eamon.

  “Not that unexpected, it’s what I’m here for, right?”

  He looked confused and the minute I tried to get away by leaping from the bed, he held me down, our bodies still connected.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. It was great. Hot and amazing. Incredible as always but it wasn’t really unexpected. Was it?”

  He sighed, apparently annoyed that I’d mucked up his post-orgasmic glow with a bit of realism. “Fine, it wasn’t. Happy? Or do you want a big fight to make you feel better about enjoying yourself?”

  I tried to wiggle my way free of Eamon’s grip, which seemed a pretty fitting metaphor for what was going through me as my gaze slammed into his ice-cold stare.

  “Damn, Eamon. I’m not trying to start a fight and the sex was great, so there’s no need for an ulterior motive. Just stating a fucking fact.”

  He released me and I scrambled off the bed like it was on fire. It might as well have been as far as I was concerned. Eamon’s hand had felt like a brand and everywhere he’d touched felt cool and lonely without his warmth. No, dammit! I shook it off and looked at him, doing my best not to feel vulnerable or humiliated standing there butt naked.

  “Bullshit.”

  His cool dismissal made it easy to remember that we were nothing but a fuck to each other. And yeah, that thought might have stung a little but I knew from experience that the aftermath of a guy like him hurt far worse.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway. We’re done here.”

  I gave his big, ultra masculine bedroom a final sweep to make sure I didn’t forget anything I couldn’t live without because there was no way in hell I’d ever come back here.

  “For today, yes.”

  I’d already taken a few steps outside the bedroom because my clothes were still by the bank of windows in the main room when his words registered. They stopped me in my tracks.

  “No, for good. Today is Saturday. Day four.”

  I didn’t think it took a lot of brains to become a mobster, especially when it was your family’s mob or whatever, but this was ridiculous.

  “Day. Four.” Was he trying not to laugh at me? “Something funny?”

  “You have a shit poker face just like your old man.”

  “That’s fine because I don’t play poker.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively and swung his legs around the side of the bed, his cock was still flying at half staff. And still leaking. Damn. “It’s a good thing too since your thoughts are written all over your face.”

  “Again, irrelevant. Goodbye, Eamon.” I turned on my heels with my stilettos in hand and padded down the hall on my bare feet so I could get my clothes and get the hell out of here. For good.

  “Goodbye for now.” His smooth voice, deep and seductive, sounded behind me making my core tighten and my nipples bead with arousal.

  “Today might be the fourth day, princess, but it marks the end of the third night.”

  I turned to him, ready to argue my case wh
en he held up a hand that pulled me up short. “Wednesday, Thursday and then last night. Three days.”

  “What about the limo ride at my office? Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “It counts for a good fuck. But the agreement was four nights. Not three nights and a quickie.”

  “A quickie?” I snorted. “Okay, you know what? You win.” I was actually more excited than pissed off to find out we had one more night together. That was as sure a sign as any that I needed to get away from him and fast. I located my lingerie and slid it on and then my jeans and shirt, scooping my stilettos as I darted past him. “I’ll see you tonight, Eamon.”

  “Unless you don’t want to?”

  I barked out a laugh. “As if it matters what I want at this point. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’ll take you home.” His tone brooked no argument and even if I’d planned to argue, which I did, he was halfway down the hall, presumably to put some clothes on.

  “I can get home myself, you know!” Two seconds later the shower came on, just in case I didn’t already know he wasn’t listening. It was a meaningless gesture, but I grabbed my purse and fled out the front door, coming up short because there was no limo waiting.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eamon

  “Is this car necessary?” Layla’s green eyes bore a hole in the side of my head even as her hands couldn’t stop molesting the buttery soft leather seat. “I mean, what is the purpose of this car?”

  Her words tugged a reluctant laugh from me. As a rule I didn’t explain myself to anyone but Patrick and especially not to women. Then again, I couldn’t remember a time when a woman had ever criticized one of my vehicles. “Purpose? To go fast and look good doing it. Isn’t that enough?”

  A husky laugh sprang free and she smacked a hand against my thigh, making my leg twitch. “If that’s your goal, mission accomplished but you have to admit that it is kind of ridiculous.”

  “You’re calling my Bugatti Vision GT ridiculous? I think you’d better take a look in the mirror sweetheart.” This car was a goddamn work of art. Royal blue and black with shiny chrome wheels.

  “I’m sure it’s a real boner inducer for a certain kind of guy but it’s got four wheels and an engine. Does it really need all this?”

  She waved her arms around the interior and laughed again.

  “Okay sure, it’s pretty. But also ridiculous.”

  “I’m a car guy. I collect them. You prefer the limo?”

  “At least the limo is appropriately ridiculous.” Her hands scrubbed over the leather again with a smile. “I do love this leather though. I’d kill to turn this into a skirt.”

  She would look damned hot in this blue leather with her long legs on display. “So not so ridiculous after all?”

  “Still ridiculous, but I’m starting to get the appeal. A little.” Her hands slid up and down the leather a few more times. “So you like cars?”

  “I like all machines. Cars, motorcycles, boats …”

  “Yachts, you mean?”

  I shrugged. “Boats of all sizes.”

  She laughed again and the sound bounced around the inside of the car, adding an unexpected warmth.

  “Yachts. Do you know how to drive a boat or whatever?”

  “I know my way around quite a few different boats. Speed boats, yachts, sail boats. I don’t like to be inside something I can’t navigate if I need to.”

  “Of course,” she snorted and rolled her eyes. “God forbid.”

  The car stopped in the spot beside Layla’s car and she darted out of the car before I even killed the engine.

  “Layla, wait!” She kept going, eager to escape for some reason.

  “Dammit, Layla.”

  I cut the engine and caught up to her at the top of the stairs and reached for her arm. “What the hell?”

  She smiled but it didn’t come close to reaching her big blue eyes. “Thank you for the ride, Eamon. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Oh fuck that. “Not good enough, princess.”

  Her expression changed as she jerked away from my grasp. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t owe you a damn explanation, isn’t it?”

  Ah, kitten wanted to play? I backed her up against the wall, not giving a damn whose door I had her pressed up against, my leg between her thighs.

  “You don’t owe me an explanation, but I want one anyway.”

  “Too. Bad.” That’s what her mouth said but one little tug of her earlobes between my teeth and she was moaning, melting into me.

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  She was already breathless and panting, that little pulse in her neck beating a drum solo.

  “Why you’re running away from me.”

  Layla pulled back and licked her lips.

  “I’m not running away, Eamon. Just going home.” She slid between me and the wall, walking a few short feet to her door, but I grabbed her arm at the last minute and pulled her back to me.

  “Looks like running to me.” I cut off her denial with a kiss, holding her at the waist with one hand as I tangled my fingers in her hair with the other, my mouth devouring hers. It was dark and hot and something else I couldn’t describe but it didn’t matter because her taste got better every fucking time.

  “See you tonight, princess. Seven p.m.”

  She looked too dazed to keep her walls up and her eyes were filled with something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Affection.

  “Don’t call me that,” she said but her words lacked their usual fire and I knew she was getting ideas.

  “Better get those stars out of your eyes, Layla.”

  The sparkle in her eyes dimmed and she took another step away from me. “Those aren’t stars, dork, that’s just a post-orgasm glow.”

  She put a fake smile on her face and batted her eyelashes. Then, without a look back, Layla walked away and slammed her door shut.

  Engaging both locks.

  Message fucking received.

  She was pissed off now, but by the time night fell she would be aching for me to fill her, the same way I ached for her already.

  One more night and Layla would be nothing more than a smoking hot memory. Then my life would be back to normal.

  As I got back in my car and drove home, all I could think about was how suddenly normal didn’t seem all that appealing.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Layla

  I felt out of sorts after Eamon kissed the hell out of me, so I took a quick hot shower until his scent no longer lingered on my skin and my body only burned from the scalding water and not his touch.

  The whole Saturday stretched ahead of me. I got dressed and sat around my house in search of something to do or someone to talk to. I’d been too busy building my career and taking care of Dad that I didn’t have any real close friends, just a few acquaintances I could go out drinking with when I needed to unwind. My apartment was in order, so I couldn’t do a few hours of mindless cleaning to keep me busy, either.

  I went to the gym and spent thirty minutes on the treadmill pounding out anything that might resemble feelings or emotions. I ran out the anger I felt at my dad for keeping this huge thing from me and then for letting it get so bad that it got to this point. I ran out the feelings that were bubbling just beneath the surface for Eamon. I ran and ran, then I swam, focusing on nothing but the next stroke through the water. But even ninety minutes at the gym couldn’t tire out my overeager mind.

  Which meant I needed to venture outside again, something I had no desire to do while I still felt raw and a little shaken by my time with Eamon. But maybe a bit of grocery shopping with a few hours of retail therapy was exactly what I needed, at least that was my excuse when I grabbed my purse and reusable bags and got in my car.

  Rocket wasn’t a big metropolis by any stretch of the imagination but a girl had options. There were two malls in addition to all the shops and boutiques inside the two dozen or so casinos in t
own. I turned out of the parking lot and got ready to blast Queen Bey when I saw something that stopped me cold. At first I didn’t even realize what it was, but my body recognized it before I did.

  The sleek red car that I saw yesterday rolled down my street at a much slower speed than most drivers use. It didn’t matter much that there was no reason for anyone to be following me but tell that to my overactive imagination that had me convinced they were sex traffickers looking for pretty young girls to sell to rich dudes overseas.

  Since there was clearly no way to reason with me, had anyone been with me to reason with, I reversed out of my parking spot and sped away like a bat out of hell. I drove and drove, my eyes flying to my side mirrors and my rearview mirror like I was the getaway driver for a bank heist. If there were any cops around, I would’ve been pulled over and given at least three tickets, but the traffic goddesses were smiling down on me because there wasn’t a black and white in sight.

  I merged into the traffic at the mega shopping center complete with the biggest supermarket in town, which was surrounded by at least two dozen stores, shops and boutiques.

  My heart still raced, even as I threw the car in park and rested my head on the steering wheel.

  “No one is following me. I’m being ridiculous.”

  My emotions had to have been on edge if I thought some random red car was the same car as yesterday and following me through Rocket, Nevada. “Yeah, right.”

  A laugh bubbled out of me at just how silly I was being and how real my fear was. The laughter helped and with one final look around, I stepped from the car with my handy canvas bags and got lost in rampant consumerism for a few hours.

  Mostly rampant consumerism mixed in with a sickening dose of obsessing over a certain hard bodied gangster. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? He wasn’t my boyfriend or some guy I met in a bar and hooked up with a few times or any variation of that scenario. Nope, he was a guy who’d demanded my body in payment for a debt.

  No more and no less.

  But still, when I thought of last night, which I did for damn near the entire afternoon, I swore there were flashes of emotion there. Something beyond lust and desire, more than simple pleasure seeking. But it could have been the pleasure he gave me that was clouding my vision and making me see things that weren’t there. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made that particular mistake and I swore after the second time, I was done with that. But that was said with the bravado of a twenty-two-year-old and in the three years since I made that teary promise, I hadn’t broken it.