THE CALLAHANS (A Mafia Romance): The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  I didn’t want a man like Jack in my life. But a lawyer? Who could be more above the criminal world my father lived in than a lawyer?

  I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, a smile on my lips. Life had a way of working itself out. And mine surely had recently made quite a few interesting turns.

  ***

  My alarm woke me at the usual hour, bleating in my ear at six. I rolled over and found myself pressed against Sean, a low moan slipping from between his lips.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I have an early meeting with the development team.”

  “No, it’s fine. I need to be at the office by eight.”

  I chuckled softly as I peppered his chest with kisses.

  “What?”

  “I never dated a guy who had an office to go to.”

  “Yeah? What kind of guys do you date?”

  “Claude is a laborer. He works with a construction crew downtown.”

  “What about the guys before him.”

  “College kids.”

  He ran his fingers through my hair, pausing each time he came to knot. “I keep forgetting how young you are.”

  “Not that young.”

  “You’ve been out of school, what, a week?”

  I smacked his chest. “Two years, thank you very much.”

  “Hmmm….still so young.”

  “And you’re what, all of twenty-four?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “Oh. Such an old man.”

  He grabbed one of my pillows and hit me over the head with it. I grabbed another and fought back, smacking him upside the head before he gave up, falling back in a storm of laughter.

  “Okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re not a child.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I’m not an old man, right?”

  “Maybe.” I climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. “But you are a little slow getting out of bed.”

  He was out of bed in a flash, chasing me into the bathroom. I nearly slid into the tread of the shower stall’s lower track. He grabbed me around the waist, saving my toe from smashing against the track, but smashing my nose against his chest.

  He nibbled at my neck, tugging me tight against his hips. I responded with a rain of kissed across his chest, teasing the fine hairs between his pecs with my tongue. He groaned, wrapping his hand in my tangled hair and pulling my head back.

  “You drive me insane. Do you know that?”

  “You’ve sort of suggested it.”

  A wry smile twisted his lips. “Such a smart ass.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You should be taught a lesson.”

  “Yeah? How do you plan on doing that?”

  His eyebrows rose as he pushed me up against the cold glass of the shower door. “I have my ways.”

  “Do you?”

  “Girls like you simply need to be put in their place.”

  “And where’s that?”

  He studied my face a long moment. “You tell me. Do you think you have a right to talk to me like that? Bossing me around, teasing me? Just because you run a company—”

  “But I do run a company. I don’t need a man to tell me how to get things done.”

  “You don’t?”

  He cocked an eyebrow even as he trapped my wrists above my head and ran a finger down the length of one arm, letting his fingertip brush the tender skin under my arm, along my armpit, and down along the side of one breast. My knees grew weak, threatening to dump me on the floor in a puddle of desire even as I watched him watching me.

  “You don’t think you need me?” he asked softly, his lips so close to mine that I could almost taste them.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You implied it.”

  “No, I was just…”

  I groaned because he chose that moment to slide his fingers between my legs, brushing against my clit and then pulling away, sliding his hand around my hip to run his palm over the curve of my ass.

  “You were just what?” he asked almost breathlessly against my ear.

  “I was just teasing.”

  “You should be careful who you tease, my love.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, groaning as his fingertips brushed my clit again.

  “What do you want, Ms. Doherty?”

  “You.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d never spoken those kinds of words aloud before. How do you tell a man you want his fingers inside of you? How do you say that you’d love it if he’d suckle at your breasts? How do you ask him to fuck you until your g-spot feels like it’s going to explode?

  I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted.

  But he knew what I wanted. He slid his fingers between my legs, spreading my cunt lips carefully, his middle finger slipping along my inner lips, along the edge of my opening, brushing against my clit again and again. I leaned back against the shower door, biting my lip to keep all these sounds from slipping out.

  “Tell me,” he whispered roughly against my ear.

  “You know what I want.”

  “I do. But I want to hear you say it.”

  I wanted to scream because he chose that moment to pull his hand away. I could hear the amusement in his voice when he asked again what I wanted.

  “Tell me. I want to hear you say the words.”

  I looked at him and was encouraged by the fact that his eyes were hooded with the same need that was suddenly alive and bursting through my aching body. I tugged at his hold on my wrists, but he wouldn’t let go, or allow me to touch him. I moved my hips, but he simply stepped aside, moving so that I couldn’t touch him no matter how desperately I tried.

  “Sean…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you,” I said, a blush burning like a wild fire across my cheeks. “I want you to touch me.”

  “How?”

  “You know how.”

  “Say it, Ms. CEO.”

  I shook my head, my eyes meeting his again.

  “You had such a quick, smart mouth just a few minutes ago. Can’t you tell me what you want now?”

  “I want you. I want you to touch me. I want your fingers and your tongue and your beautiful, thick cock inside of me,” I said in a rush, almost desperately. “I want you.”

  He smiled, a warm smile that was almost wicked in its pleasure. “Was that so hard?”

  “Yes.”

  But he was already dropping to his knees, his hands firm on my thighs as he pushed them apart. I cried out, splaying my fingers against the shower door, as his tongue brushed the swollen tip of my clit. And then he was inside of me, his fingers and his tongue doing things I’d never even imagined. My knees were so weak, but he held me up, his palms supporting my ass as I leaned back, so much pleasure rushing through me all at once that I thought I might lose my mind. I forgot where I was; I forgot the humiliation of what he’d just forced me to say; I forgot everything but how good he felt there…between my legs.

  Who knew it could be this good? And why didn’t they tell me?

  I could feel my orgasm building, the fire beginning in my clit and roaring through my lower belly. I could feel it in the base of my spine. I cried out, shoving the heel of my hand between my teeth to keep from screaming and to stop insanity from taking complete control.

  I didn’t even realize we were moving until I found myself bent over the space between the double sinks, his eyes glued to mine in the mirror as he thrust his cock deep inside of me. He held my hips and thrust quickly, already nearly lost. I could see it in his eyes; I could see the excitement that my pleasure brought to him. I fell again, another orgasm rushing through my body, darkening my vision and making me nothing more than a pile of flesh, a weak and pliable bit of humanity, brought to my knees by the touch of one amazing man.

  He held me up until he reached his pinnacle, and then we fell, quite literally, into a heap on the floor. And then he l
aughed, and it was the most amazing sound I’d ever heard.

  I knew in that moment that my life would never be the same. For better or for worse, Sean had just upended my world and nothing would ever be as it was before.

  I was falling, and I was hoping he’d be there to catch me for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 9

  Sean

  “That’s him over there,” I said, gesturing to a guy climbing slowly out of a pickup truck at a construction site across the street.

  Killian watched him over the rim of his coffee mug. “He doesn’t look all that impressive.”

  “We could take him out with a heavy sigh,” Kyle said.

  I took another huge bite of the pancakes the waitress had just set in front of me, the second helping since we arrived at the diner half an hour ago. I was starving. Delaney was an amazing cook, but we didn’t exactly take a lot of time to cook yesterday.

  Ian was watching me, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “So what’s going on with you and this girl? Who’d you say she was?”

  “A friend of Jack’s. He asked me to watch over her, make sure this guy stopped bothering her.”

  Ian cocked an eyebrow. “A friend of Jack’s? Sounds more like one of his mistresses.”

  “It’s none of our business,” Killian said.

  Ian dropped the subject—Ian always did what Killian said he should—but he continued to look at me with interest. Kyle didn’t seem to care either way, and Killian was watching Claude as if he was aching for a fight.

  “I gave him that black eye a couple of days ago,” I said, “but it doesn’t seem to have made the impression I was hoping for because he was texting her again this weekend.”

  Ian opened his mouth, a question on the tip of his tongue, but Killian chose that moment to stand.

  “Let’s go do this.”

  The four of us must have made quite a sight as we crossed the street. Killian tall and dark, his broad shoulders casting quite a shadow for the rest of us to walk in. Ian was Killian’s opposite, blond where he was dark, but just as tall and broad. Then there was me, just slightly shorter than Killian, but pale with my fiery red hair. Then there was Kyle. He was tall, broad, and solid, his skin like milk chocolate, his handsome face delicate like a china doll. A lot of people have made the mistake of thinking that Kyle was a pushover because of his pretty face. It was a mistake they didn’t make twice.

  “Hey, Claude!” I called as we made our way into the construction site, aware of the stares we were getting, but not really caring. “Remember me?”

  He turned from the guys he’d been sharing his morning coffee with while they waited for the day’s instructions. He was already pale, clearly nursing a hangover, but what little color there was in his face disappeared when he recognized me.

  Killian grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him around the side of the structure the crew was just beginning to frame. He shoved him up against a heavy metal beam, hitting his bare head solidly enough to make the beam ring.

  “I believe I told you to stay away from Delaney Doherty.”

  “I haven’t gone near her,” he said, his chin shaking so hard in his fear that I could barely understand him. “I swear, man. I haven’t been near her.”

  “Yeah, but you sent her a series of text messages yesterday that she didn’t really appreciate.”

  Color came briefly back into his cheeks as his eyes jumped from Killian—who still had his shirt wrapped around his fist—and Ian and Kyle. Then his eyes settled on me.

  “I was drunk, man. And someone told me there was a strange car in front of her place…I was jealous. But I didn’t really mean anything I said.”

  “It’s over between you and Delaney. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah, man,” Claude said, a small spark of hope jumping into his eyes. “I won’t go near her again.”

  Killian glanced at me, then dug his hand around in Claude’s back pocket, pulling out his phone. He handed it to me, and I immediately dropped it on the ground, crushing it beneath the heel of my shoe.

  “Hey!” Claude cried. “That’s my phone! Those things are expensive!”

  “Yeah, well, you should have thought of that before you texted Delaney.” I moved closer to Claude, shoving a finger against his cheek as Killian continued to hold him hard against the beam. “If you so much as breathe in her direction again, I’ll know about it. And I’ll come looking for you. You understand?”

  Again Claude’s eyes jumped from me to Killian to Ian to Kyle, then back again. He nodded.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Delaney’s our friend. She’s under our protection. My brothers and I will not take kindly to anyone messing with her. You understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You tell anyone else who might be interested in messing with her that they better think twice.”

  Claude nodded. “I will.”

  I stepped back and Killian let Claude go. And then he slammed his fist into his stomach in three quick successions. Claude fell to the ground, throwing up what little was left of his liquid breakfast before he fell forward into the dirt. Kyle kicked a little dirt at him and Ian stomped his foot, making Claude jump back right into the puddle of vomit. We walked away, leaving the guy on the ground where he belonged.

  There was no curiosity in the eyes of the construction crew. The foreman didn’t even try to approach us. This was Jack’s territory. These people knew who we were and that we weren’t to be trifled with. They knew the consequences of crossing the Callahan family.

  There wouldn’t be any more trouble with Claude.

  ***

  Killian came down to my office at lunch, a takeout order from a local Chinese place in his hands.

  “God, that smells good!”

  “Thought you’d be hungry despite the number of pancakes you devoured this morning.”

  “I am. Thanks, big brother.”

  Killian set a paper container in front of me along with a fork, then took a seat in one of the chairs set in front of my desk. He didn’t open his own container right away. Instead, he watched me as I dug into mine.

  “Things seem to be settling down with the Italians.”

  I nodded. We’d had some trouble with a rival organization a few months back while Killian was in New York watching over our sister, Stacy. Pops thought there might be a mole in our organization feeding them information, but he wasn’t able to prove it. And then the leak seemed to stop almost as abruptly as it’d begun. The Italians were still trying to move in on Irish territory, but they didn’t have the information they’d been getting before, so they weren’t making much headway. In fact, we’d managed to push them back a little, regaining a little of what we’d lost.

  “Jack thinks they’ll try another big move this summer.”

  “Why then?”

  I shrugged. “Because we have a couple of big shipments coming in then, and he thinks they’ll try to hit us while we’re distracted.”

  “They’d have to know about the shipments to make that plausible.”

  “They knew about the last three. There’s no reason to believe they won’t know about these, too.”

  Killian nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think it’s all connected with whoever was behind Brianna’s kidnapping?”

  “Do you think the guy behind Brianna’s kidnapping was behind the hitman who nearly took you out?”

  We all had the same suspicions. Someone was out to get the family. We couldn’t quite put a finger on who it might be, but someone had kidnapped a daughter Pops didn’t even know he had and used that to blackmail the girl’s mother into stealing information that might help him take Pops down. The mother—Cassidy—was Pops’ former lover and she eventually told him what was going on, but only after she’d handed over several dozen contacts and a few important documents related to the Irish mob.

  Then the kidnapper made a threat against Stacy, so Pops sent Killian to New York to watch over her. They ended up falling in love—all
very complicated since Stacy was technically our sister even though she was never legally adopted—got married, and then Stacy announced that she hired a hitman to take Killian out because she thought he’d killed her former fiancé the night before their wedding. It was all very complicated, but it turned out someone predicted that Stacy would call the hitman off, so he paid the guy twice what she’d paid him to continue with the contract. He did, but then he kidnapped Killian and tortured him because whoever this person was who hired him had turned against him, leaking information to Jack that threatened the hitman’s life.

  It was a big mess that also included half a dozen of Jack’s men going missing or being picked up by the cops. But then it all stopped, and it looked like whoever had been leaking information about the family and Jack’s organization had run out of things to leak.

  Or he was working on something bigger that was taking up all his time.

  “The cops got wind of that meeting with the Harbor Point Bloods. Do you think that’s part of all this?”

  Killian shook his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t like this.”

  “The calm before the storm.”

  Killian nodded. “And with Stacy about to give birth…”

  “You shouldn’t be worrying about it. Let Ian and Kyle and I deal with it.”

  “You were never supposed to be part of all this.”

  “I know. But it is what it is.”

  Killian set his food on the edge of my desk and stood. He paced the small room, dragging his fingers through his hair.

  “I promised Mom—”

  “Don’t.”

  He looked at me. “I did.”

  “And I promised her that I would live my life the way I wanted to. This is what I want.”

  “But Sean—”

  “This is the family business. If I can keep things from falling apart, that’s what I’m here to do.”

  “But you were supposed to walk the straight path. Go to law school, work for a legitimate firm. This was never part of the plan.”

  “Yeah, well, Mom wasn’t supposed to die, and we weren’t supposed to all come home and circle the wagons around Pops. But we did. And this is where I belong.”

  Killian studied my face for a long minute. “Tell me there’s nothing else going on here. That you’re not trying to prove yourself because Pops got married, or because I’m distracted with Stacy and the baby.”