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

by Glenna Sinclair

  The last thing I grabbed was a photograph of my family that was tucked into a book in my nightstand. Shoving it into my shoulder bag, I turned to Kyle.

  “Ready.”

  He held out his hand, and I thought I might blush again. The memory of his touch was still there, this pulsing in my clit and this sense of fullness inside of me…I didn’t know what to do with it. I was overwhelmed with shame and excitement all at the same time. It was as if I’d done something wrong, but it was so much fun I wanted to do it again.

  And again and again…

  I walked toward him but didn’t take his hand. He slid it over my shoulder as he followed me out the door, resting his hand against the small of my back and that was worse, somehow. There was a rented Cadillac Escalade waiting for us at the curb. It was late, an hour or two until dawn. I should have been exhausted, but I was energized with a nervousness that made my hands shake and my knees knock. Kyle helped me into the passenger seat before slinging my bag into the back with his and climbing behind the wheel. It wasn’t but a few minutes before we pulled through the gates of a private airstrip just outside the city.

  “You have a jet?”

  “It belongs to Callahan Industries, my father’s side business.”

  I just nodded, my eyes drawn to the slim lines of the jet and the model-perfect people standing beside the steps leading into the interior. They must have been the pilot and the rest of the crew. There were two men, both impossibly handsome and well coifed despite the hour, and a woman who filled out her skimpy uniform the way a woman was supposed to fill out a tight, little outfit like that. She made me feel frumpy in my jeans.

  Kyle helped me out of the car, his eyes moving over my face for a long second.

  “I’m sorry for the rush. Hopefully things will settle down in a day or two.”

  I wanted to say that things could rush for as long as they needed to. This situation—whatever it was—had saved me from having to do something I knew was coming, but was hoping I could avoid. I knew he’d expect me to sleep with him. But I…I barely knew him. How could I give him something I hadn’t given the boy I dated for three years in high school, or the man I was briefly engaged to after a two-year relationship in college?

  But, again, if his touch could do what it did back there in the hotel, how could I deny myself that kind of pleasure? Did it all feel that way? Was it all that delicious, that mind blowing? Or was it just something about his touch, on this night, in this situation?

  I was afraid of the answer. And I was afraid I’d never feel that way again.

  Kyle slid his arm around me and led the way to the plane. He tossed his keys to one of the men—they all seemed to know him and they greeted him with respect—gesturing back to the car.

  “It’s a rental. Make sure it’s taken care of. And our bags are in the back.”

  “Of course, Mr. Callahan,” the man said, moving immediately to do as he was told.

  “I’ll never get used to that,” he whispered against my ear, as he turned me and pushed me gently toward the steps that would allow us access to the interior of the plane.

  I walked up them slowly, feeling judged, as though they knew I didn’t belong here. But then Kyle was behind me again, his arm sliding around my waist as he guided me to a long, couch-like spot toward the front of the plane.

  “Have you ever flown before?”

  I nodded, my eyes moving slowly over the carpet and the leather upholstery and the wood accents that filled the plane’s cabin. I’d flown many times before, but I’d never thought I would fly on a private jet again.

  Kyle reached around me and secured the seatbelt to my waist before doing the same for himself. Then he leaned close and nuzzled my neck.

  “Once we get going, we’ll have a couple of hours to fill.”

  “We should probably sleep.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for that, too.”

  Dread built in my chest. So much for assuming I was out of the woods.

  The flight attendant came aboard behind us, a bright smile on her lips that revealed perfect teeth that must have cost her parents a fortune at some point.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  Kyle straightened a little. “Do you want a little something before we take off?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t drink very often. But this situation seemed to scream for a little oblivion.

  Kyle didn’t wait for me to make up my mind.

  “Why don’t you bring us both one of those Irish coffees you make so well, Samantha?”

  She smiled, tilting her head ever so slightly before quickly heading off to the back of the plane where a tiny kitchen was hidden.

  “You know their names.”

  “My father taught us that it’s good business to be respectful to those who work under us. He taught us to learn their names and to be as polite as we can without letting them think we’re soft. It’s a fine line, he told us, but he taught us how to navigate it.”

  “Your father’s a smart man.”

  Kyle nodded. “Pops is…he’s not above making the occasional mistake, but he’s a good man and he’s never failed to let all six of us know how much he loves us, even those of us who were adopted.”

  “Six kids? You mentioned you had siblings, but you never mentioned you had so many.”

  “Yeah. Killian, Sean, Ian, me, Kevin, and Stacy.”

  “How many are adopted?”

  “Four. Only Killian and Sean are biological. But Abigail made sure that we understood that that didn’t matter.”

  “Why do you call her Abigail? Why not call her mom?”

  “Because I had a mom and she wasn’t that great,” he said, pulling away from me a little. “I didn’t want to equate that woman with Abigail in my mind or in any other way.”

  There was anger in his voice. And, deep down, I could hear the hurt of a little boy, too. Whatever that woman did to him must have been something awful.

  I touched his hand, and he immediately intertwined his fingers with mine, giving my hand a little squeeze.

  “You said I told you about my biological mother,” he said after a moment. “What did I say?”

  I shook my head. “Not a lot. Just that you had another mother before Abigail came to see you in juvie. You said that she gave you options when you thought you didn’t have any. Said that if you’d had to go back to the streets you probably would have died.”

  He was quiet for a long minute. “That’s funny,” he finally said, “because I never talk about that part of my life.”

  “I told you,” I said, sliding my hand over the back of his, “we had a connection the other night. We both felt it.”

  He glanced at me, but he didn’t say anything else. Then, of course, the flight attendant chose that moment to return with our Irish coffees. Kyle slipped his hand away from mine and settled back, sipping at the coffee and exchanging small talk with the flight attendant and then the pilot as he boarded the plane. It was as if that dark cloud hadn’t been there, as though the depth of our conversation had never really existed. He was acting almost as if he didn’t want to admit that he’d ever let anyone in, even the tiniest bit. And maybe that was true. Maybe he was embarrassed by what he’d said to me the night we got married. And that made me feel like a real fool for being the one who stole that little peek into his soul.

  The flight attendant collected our cups and we got under way. I turned sideways so I could watch the ground race away as we rose into the dark sky. A part of me wished we were headed to Oregon, going back to the security of the world I once was a part of. But that world was gone now. There was never going to be a homecoming for me ever again.

  Kyle unhooked my seatbelt the moment we were at cruising altitude, his hand slipping under the bottom edge of my shirt as he did. I closed my eyes even as he pulled me back into him, his hand sliding further up over my ribs, his fingertips sneaking under the bottom of my bra.

  “Where were we?” he whispered
against my ear.

  “We’re not exactly alone here, Kyle.”

  “They know how to make themselves scarce.”

  I started to protest again, but he pulled my jaw around and took the words from my tongue. I couldn’t resist his kiss. It was like some sort of drug. With that first touch, I could feel myself melting against him, remembering how good his touch was and wanting it again and again, over and over. He touched me in places I’d never been touched. And, while that might seem like a given, I wasn’t as much of a prude as everyone thought I was. I’d been kissed. Just not the way Kyle kissed me. It was…I couldn’t even come up with words that described the way he made me feel when he touched me like this.

  His hand continued to slide under my shirt, slipping over my belly, up along my side. I turned into him, and he pressed his finger under the band at the back of my bra, pulling it apart with more skill than I would have imagined from a man. But he was something of a womanizer. And then his hand was cupping my breast, my nipple hard against his palm, and my thoughts just disappeared. I melted as his mouth moved down my throat. He pulled my t-shirt up and out of his way, running his tongue softly around my nipple, his breath creating a cool breeze that felt like electricity against my damp skin. I didn’t think it could get any better, but then he drew my nipple between his teeth and nibbled until I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Beautiful,” he sighed. “You’re so beautiful.”

  He kissed me hard on the mouth again, a kiss that was lacking all the gentleness of his earlier kisses. This one meant business. It was a kiss that made demands. He pushed me back against the couch, the weight of his body both reassuring and frightening as he nibbled at my throat before returning his attention to my breasts. And then he was working his way down my belly, his lips grazing my skin as his fingers began to work the top button of my jeans.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I was about to lose my virginity thirty-thousand feet up in the air. I couldn’t do that.

  “Kyle—”

  I ran my hand over the top of his head, pushing him back a little as I tried to sit up.

  “Don’t ask me to stop.”

  “I can’t. Not like this.”

  “Like what?” He kissed my neck again, tugging at my shirt in an effort to pull it completely off.

  “That flight attendant…”

  “Sam? She’s knows how to disappear. I told you. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a woman on this plane.”

  That wasn’t a great way to convince me. I didn’t want to know about the succession of girls who’d come before me or to think about the succession of women who would come after.

  He must have felt me stiffen because he pulled back and smoothed the hair out of my face.

  “You’re really uncomfortable with this?”

  “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “The thing is, I’m not the kind of guy who can just turn it off, just like that. And you…you’re my wife.” He studied my face with a strange sort of determination in his eyes. “I think you owe me a little something.”

  “Do I?”

  “I gave you a lovely little bit of pleasure back at the hotel, right?” He ran his finger along my jaw as I turned my head away, already burning with a shameful blush. “Don’t you think I deserve a little relief, too?”

  “Kyle, please…”

  “You show me a little love and I’ll back off.”

  He pulled back so suddenly that I nearly fell off the little couch. I sat up, so busy readjusting my clothes that I almost missed what he was doing. But then he took my hand and drew me close to him, kissing me roughly before he pushed me to my knees. That’s when I realized his pants were unzipped.

  I started to shake my head, but he had my ponytail wrapped around his hand and he was tugging me toward him. I was scared, but there was this part of me that was kind of excited. It felt so wrong, but so exhilarating all at the same time. As much as I didn’t want to do it, I felt this tension building deep down in my belly that couldn’t be denied.

  He sat back as I slipped my hand into his pants, grasping his cock in its nest of soft boxers and heavy denim. He was hard as a rock, his cock surprisingly silky soft despite the rigidity just below the surface. And his head…I was a little surprised to find it moist when my thumb ran over it, and even more surprised to feel him jump as I touched him.

  “Easy,” he said, brushing my thumb away from him.

  I didn’t know what was sensitive, what wasn’t, what I could be rough with, and what I had to be a bit gentler with. All I knew was how he reacted when I ran my hand down along the length of his shaft and how he jumped when I accidentally brushed my fingers over the bare head of his cock again. I watched him, growing fascinated by the way the muscle in his jaw jumped, the way his mouth opened just slightly, every time I did something he liked. I learned a lot just by gaging his reaction.

  I stroked him for a long few minutes, watching my hand move over the length of him, watching his reaction. I ran my fingertip along the bottom side of the mushroom-like roundness of his head and bit my lip when he groaned, his hand still wrapped in my hair, pulling me closer. He wanted me to take him in my mouth…I knew this. I just wasn’t sure it was something I was capable of doing. I’d heard stories in high school, talked to girlfriends about the things they’d done with their boyfriends. I’d even walked in on one such scenario when I was in college, catching my roommate in a compromising position that wasn’t much different from this. I’d always thought it was something I could never do. But now…now? I was thinking maybe it wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be.

  My mother would be spinning in her grave if she could see me now.

  I ran the tip of my tongue down along the underside of his shaft, surprised again by the softness of his skin here. He groaned as my breath brushed against the moisture left by my tongue, sending those little shivers of electricity through him that he’d given me when his mouth touched my nipple. And then I ran my tongue back up, moving it around the outer edge of his head until he groaned long and loud.

  “Damn, babe,” he groaned.

  And that’s when I realized what it was about this that made it exciting. It may have appeared that he had all the power but, in truth, I was the one with the power. And that was more exciting than any touch, any kiss, anything.

  I teased him with another pass down the bottom side of his shaft, and then I ran my tongue over his head, sliding it against the tenderest places until I thought he was going to jump off the couch. Not until then did I slowly take him into my mouth, surprised at how pleasurable it actually was. I’d thought it would be…well, not like this. But it was actually quite fascinating, not just the way it made him moan or the texture of it, but the taste and the tingle of his precum as it ran over my tongue.

  It almost hurt as he guided me with that hand wrapped around my ponytail. But that added to the excitement, too.

  There would be time for regrets later. But right now, I was actually enjoying the power of making him moan, of making him whisper words of encouragement to me, as I did the best I could to offer him some of the same pleasure he’d given me back at the hotel. After a few minutes, he relaxed his grip on me, relaxing back against the couch, the greatest sounds coming from between his lips. He didn’t touch me again until he swelled a little more, until he cried out.

  When it was over, he pulled me back up onto the couch with him and pulled me back against his chest. That’s when the good Catholic girl shame began to settle over me. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be. He kissed my neck a few times, then he lay me carefully down on the couch, pulling a blanket over my shoulders. I felt him get up a moment later and move toward the back of the plane. His voice traveled back to me, low and deep, steady. I worried for a minute that he was talking to that pretty flight attendant, but then I realized he was talking to his brother on the phone.

  I closed my eyes and let the sound of his voice flow over me. He had a nice voice. There
was a lot about him that was nice. His kiss. His touch. He was so hot! And he was a gentleman when he wasn’t being aggressive, when he wasn’t sleeping with any girl that looked his way, when he wasn’t gambling away his incredible trust fund.

  I fell asleep, the taste of him on my lips, my dreams less filled with darkness than they had been in a long time.

  Chapter 6

  Kyle

  “The Italians have taken out three of our warehouses. Someone’s been slipping them information and they’re using it to creep into our territories.”

  I listened to Ian, trying to imagine what a mess I was walking into as I headed back to Boston. And then I turned and caught sight of Amelia, realizing I was dragging her into something she’d probably never imagined, let alone would understand. It wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t leave her back in Vegas and ever hope to find out what really happened the night we got married. Not to mention the hit to Pops’ reputation, especially if she used our marriage to try to leverage the family for money. I wouldn’t put it past any woman, especially if she knew who I was when we walked down that aisle. There were so many reasons why she had to be on this plane with me, but there was still a little twinge of guilt in my gut whenever I looked at her.

  “What does Jack have to say about all this?”

  “He’s trying to get a meeting with the leader of the Italians, but there hasn’t been much success in that area so far.”

  Not going to happen.

  We’d tried to meet with the Italians before, but they didn’t want to have anything to do with us when they thought they could take over our territories. It would probably be the same now.

  “I should call Jack.”

  “Probably,” Ian said. And then he made this little sound in the back of his throat. “So, we’ve heard a few rumors about you.”

  “Rumors? What kind of rumors?”

  “That you got married while you were in Vegas.”

  “Where did you hear that?”