KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2)

by Glenna Sinclair

She brushed some hair out of her face as she looked up at me. There was something in her eyes…I wanted to kiss her and that made me step back because I wasn’t quite sure I could trust myself.

  “Do I smell?”

  “I probably do.”

  She smiled softly. “Maybe we could take a shower together.”

  Oh, my God!

  She limped a little as she came inside, taking advantage of my distraction to invite herself in. She brushed her hair out of her face again, a nervous habit I knew all too well. Her eyes moved around the room, settling on my unmade bed.

  “You were gone when I woke up. I thought we were going to talk this morning.”

  “I was pretty drunk last night. I’m not sure…”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Only bits and pieces.”

  She blushed, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

  “Maybe I should go, then.”

  “No.” I moved between her and the door, blocking her exit. “I remember enough.”

  I lifted my hand to touch her, but I stopped myself just before I actually cradled her jaw in the palm of my hand. But she took my hand and pulled it to her, encouraging me to do what I’d wanted to do. I stepped into her, drew her close to me.

  “Is this crazy? Am I pushing you into something you don’t want to do?”

  “No.” She rested her hands against my chest, staring at her own fingers for a long moment. Then she looked up at me. “I don’t know what’s happening here anymore than you do. I just know that when you brought Sara up here, it killed something inside of me. And then when we kissed yesterday, something that had died long ago suddenly came back to life. I shouldn’t want you, I know that, but I do.”

  “Maybe I should go back to Boston.”

  She wrapped her fingers in my shirt, shaking her head as she looked up at me. “Please, don’t do that. I’ve already lost so much, and I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  I groaned as I slid my fingers into her hair. “You won’t lose me.”

  “Please, Killian…”

  We kissed, a soft brushing of the lips. Then I pulled back, drawing her tight against my chest.

  “Go home. Let me take a shower and clean up a little. Then I’ll come over so that we can talk.”

  “Promise?”

  I nodded, as I kissed her forehead lightly. “I promise.”

  I watched her go, turning back to look at me several times as she limped down the stairs on that injured foot. I rushed into the bathroom, showering faster than I’d ever done in my life, careful to brush my teeth well, using more mouthwash than necessary. I felt like I was sixteen again, spraying cologne on my junk because I was hoping my date would be adventurous with her oral talents. Funny how you never outgrow some things.

  I picked up coffee and pastries at the little shop down the street. She didn’t open the door to my knock, so I dug out my key and let myself in, thinking she might be nursing that foot. But she was nowhere to be seen in the living room.

  “Stacy?”

  Concern made my chest feel tight. I went to the kitchen, then the powder room. The last place to look was the bedroom. When I stuck my head around the door, I found her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked save for the thin blanket she had draped over her chest and lap.

  “What are you…?”

  “I thought we’d done enough talking.”

  “Stace, I don’t think—”

  “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll get dressed. I’ll call Pops myself and ask him to call you home.”

  Just the thought of leaving her made my chest ache. I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave her; I couldn’t hurt her; I couldn’t allow anyone else to hurt her. I studied her; I studied the way her generous curves seemed to turn that simple blanket into the most erotic piece of cloth I’d ever seen. I wanted her in ways I’d never wanted anyone else. I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe.

  I crossed the room, cupped her chin in my hand, and forced her to look up at me.

  “Are you sure?”

  There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded.

  “Stacy—”

  “Don’t make me beg, Killian.”

  I dropped to my knees because the need I heard in her voice was just that overwhelming. I lay my head in her lap and wrapped my arms around her hips. She ran her fingers through my hair, a few tears dropping on my cheek from her beautiful eyes.

  It took me a minute to get control over my emotions. And then I kissed the bare flesh on her thigh, the warm bronze of her skin like brown sugar, the sweet touch of her fingers in my hair like the touch of an angel. I pushed her back against the mattress and slowly worked my way up, dragging my lips over her ribs, slipping my tongue around her nipple. I nibbled at her throat and tasted the sweetness of her jaw. And then I captured her lips and nearly cried out when she responded, parting her lips ever so slightly to welcome me inside.

  She wanted me. There was nothing better in the world than knowing the woman I loved wanted me.

  Chapter 9

  Stacy

  I wasn’t sure what he would do when he came into the bedroom. But when he fell to his knees…my heart broke.

  This big, powerful man was awed by my gesture. What did that say about him? What did it say about me?

  Was I really sure I wanted to do this? No. But when he touched me, there was no doubt in my responding touches.

  He was in no hurry. His kisses lingered in a way no one else’s ever had. I was not the most experienced girl in the world. There’d been boys—there’d always been boys—but never anyone I wanted this close. Even Davis. I was hurt by the actions of my biological parents. It was hard for me to allow anyone close. Davis broke through those walls, but we were still working on some of my issues. He was patient—maybe not as patient as I might have liked, but patient enough. We were so close, and I really loved him. He was my whole world.

  How could I do this?

  How could I not do this?

  My head spun when Killian kissed me. There was power in his kiss, but there was also a gentleness that made me feel a sense of security I’d never known before.

  I wrapped my arms around him, tugging him as close to me as I could get him. His hands slipped under the blanket, one palm so large that he could cup my ass and still have room for more. His fingers were long enough that I could feel them seeking out private places that had been so rarely touched before this moment. He held one of my breasts, not squeezing or molesting it as I’d come to expect from a man, but simply holding it, rolling the nipple against his palm. I couldn’t help the moan that slipped from between my lips. I loved the way it felt. I loved the gentleness mixed with eroticism. I was wild at the thought that this kind of physical pleasure actually existed in the real world, not just between the pages of some cheap romance novel.

  I tugged at his shirt, needing to feel the warmth of him, to feel his skin against mine. After a few desperate tugs, he pulled back and lifted it over his head, exposing a chest that was like something out of a Hollywood movie. Tattoos I didn’t know he had were scattered across his bare pecs. I touched one, but he tugged my hand away, capturing it under his own as he returned to my mouth, as he invaded me again, touching me in all these sensitive places I didn’t know I possessed.

  His muscles moved and pulled in his back, strong and ropy, so full of power that I could almost feel it vibrating under my hands. He pushed my knees apart with his own knee, laying against me, his erection hard as steel underneath the pliable denim of his jeans. My heart leapt into my throat when I felt it, a familiar fear building in my chest. But he didn’t force me to touch him, and he didn’t force himself against me. He didn’t do anything but continue to touch me with that gentle touch. After a moment, my heart moved back to where it belonged, and my fingers began to wander almost of their own accord.

  His mouth, his lips that were so much softer than I ever imagined a man’s lips could be, moved over my chin. He nibbled at my throat again almost as tho
ugh my neck was the best tasting thing he’d ever had. And then he was sucking at my nipples like a babe at the breast, the sensation driving through my body straight to my lower belly, creating this sensation of need, of primal desire, that I’d never known before. I arched my back, a low moan like nothing I’d ever heard before making its way out of my throat.

  And then he was moving lower over my body and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I was no longer in my bedroom, no longer doing something I couldn’t have imagined myself consenting to just a week ago, a few days. But then…oh, my God!

  If I’d known…

  He knew what he was doing. I was lost, falling deeper and deeper into territory I’d never walked before. But he knew what he was doing, and he was so incredibly good at it. His tongue against my clit, his fingers sliding inside of me…I wanted to scream, but I was afraid to voice my pleasure for fear that he would stop. I was afraid to move because he might stop. I gripped the bedsheet beneath me, tearing at it, biting my lip so hard that I was pretty sure I might have tasted blood.

  So good!

  The orgasm took me by surprise. I’d never had one come over me so quickly, so unexpectedly. There was always a warning, a tightening in my belly. But not this time. It washed through me, turning my vision dark. I did cry out then, unable to control it any longer. I lost track of him until he was just there, his body heavy and warm against mine, his ass heavy and full under my hands. He reached between our bodies, and a little clarity washed over me as I felt the head of his cock press against me.

  I’d never gone this far before. Fear again slid through me, quickly, gripping me with icy fingers I hadn’t been prepared for. My body stiffened. Killian must have felt it because he brushed the hair out of my face.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, as he stared into my eyes. “I won’t hurt you.”

  I knew it was true. I knew Killian would never voluntarily hurt me. In that moment, I just knew.

  He reached between us again, guiding himself to me. I closed my eyes and waited, the pleasure of my passing orgasm still rolling through me, dancing on my nerves like the lingering notes of a well-written song. I felt his head press against me and felt the resistance of my body. And then he was sliding inside, my own excitement lubricating the way. It wasn’t quite like I’d expected it to be. I’d always been told there’d be pain. But there was also this connection between him and I that was almost surreal, this tremor of ecstasy that overshadowed everything. And when I opened my eyes and watched the pleasure dance over his face, watched his eyes roll back in his head, watched him bite his bottom lip…it was intense.

  He slid his hand over my hip and lifted me to him, encouraging me to move with each and every thrust. We found a rhythm quickly, a rhythm that was ours and ours alone. I slid my feet up along the backs of his thighs, lifting my hips as high as I could, taking him as deeply as I could. There was no stopping the moans anymore, but mine were overwhelmed by his. And then that tightness in my lower belly, that sensation I knew meant the end of the wave was coming, rolled over me. Was it possible to feel so good? To feel so much ecstasy and not explode? Clearly it was.

  He pressed his face against the mattress when he reached his pinnacle. I held him, pulling him as close to me as I could. We clung to each other, the moment passing much too quickly. But when it was over, he didn’t let me go. He gathered me against him as he rolled onto his side, cradling me tight against his chest, his hands moving slowly down the length of my back.

  “I love you,” he whispered so quietly that I wasn’t quite sure I’d heard him right. But then he said it again. “I love you.”

  Chapter 10

  Killian

  “And this one?”

  I looked down, lifting her hand so I could see which tattoo she was pointing to.

  “County jail. I was held for three months last year.”

  “What does it mean?”

  I lifted her hand to my mouth. “Aren’t there other things you’d rather talk about?”

  “I hadn’t realized you’d gone to jail so often.”

  “Not so often. I’ve only been to the county jail a few times. Ian served three years in the federal pen.”

  “You say that like it’s a badge of honor.”

  “It sort of is.”

  “Mom didn’t think so. Do you remember when Kyle went to juvie? I thought she would cry herself into an early grave.”

  “She was a mom. She didn’t want to see any of her babies hurt.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “That’s a woman thing.”

  She sat up and pretended she was going to climb out of the bed. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down against me.

  “That came out wrong,” I said. “You have to understand that the guys we work with when we go on protection runs for Jack’s people are tough guys who grew up on the streets. They didn’t have the money and the privilege we have.”

  “You mean Pops has.”

  “I mean we have. I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t making chicken scratch at MCorp. And we each have a very generous trust fund, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’m just not sure I want to touch mine because I know it didn’t all come from an honest place.”

  “You sound like Mom.”

  “She was a good woman.”

  “A good woman who turned a blind eye to what Pops was doing because she loved him.”

  “Do you think people can really do that?” she asked softly. “Love someone enough to forget all the awful things they’ve done?”

  “I do.”

  She was quiet for a long moment, her fingers playing over my chest, over the myriad of tattoos on my chest. I wasn’t proud of my past, but I wasn’t ashamed of it either. It was a part of who I was. It seemed like a waste of time to regret any of it.

  “But you think she made a mistake.”

  “I think you have to accept the person you’re with. Everything about them. If you don’t, then you can’t be completely intimate with that person.”

  “But Mom made it work for twenty-five years.”

  “But can you imagine what their private time alone together was like? They couldn’t talk about the one thing that occupied almost all of Pops day, his thoughts, his worries. What kind of marriage doesn’t allow both people to share the things that are most important to one or the other?”

  “Spies manage to make marriages work.”

  “Not always.” I slid my arm around her and tugged her closer to me. “I don’t like secrets. I wouldn’t want secrets between me and the woman I’m sharing my life with.”

  “What if those secrets could hurt you?”

  “I don’t care. You can’t make a relationship work with secrets.”

  She was quiet again, hardly moving except where her fingers continued to dance over my tattoos. I took her hand and pressed it against my lips before moving it to my shoulder. I ran my fingers down the length of her arm, watching the goose bumps appear over her smooth flesh.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask anything. I just won’t promise to answer.”

  “Fair enough.” I kissed her forehead lightly. “You and Davis…” She stiffened before the words even came fully out of my mouth. I rolled into her, pressed my lips to her throat. She began to relax again, moaning softly as I slid my hand over her hip and moved lower over her chest, teasing a nipple with the tip of my tongue.

  She sighed, sliding her fingers through my hair.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said, sliding back up to study her face. “I have a place in Connecticut.”

  “You do?”

  I shrugged. “It’s always good to have a place where you can escape when you need to. It’s just a little farmhouse on a bit of property.”

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  I jumped off the bed and started to dress before she could change her mind. She laughed as she watched me, the
laughter changing the look of her face. It smoothed the hard lines of her jaw and brought a light to her eyes. And then she climbed off the bed, hobbling over to the closet to get some clothes.

  “You should let me look at your foot.”

  She glanced back at me. “Later. Let’s just get out of here.”

  She grabbed a duffle bag and threw some things into it before sliding on a pair of jeans. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched, finding it difficult to keep my eyes off of her. The way she moved, the way she made this funny little sound when she tugged her shirt over her head…she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever known. If this was all I got, it would be enough.

  She came over to me and climbed into my lap.

  “What are you staring at?”

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  I ran my hands over her jaw and pressed my fingers into her hair, turning her head just right.

  “Because I can’t get enough of you. Because I’ve wanted this for so long that it feels almost surreal to have it become a reality. Because I love you.”

  “How can you say that? We’ve been together for all of an hour.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ve been in love with you since you were fifteen. Since that summer after my college graduation.”

  Her eyes widened. “You mean—?”

  “I stopped coming home because I didn’t want you to know. If we were alone together too much, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hide the way I felt.”

  “Killian,” she whispered.

  “I told myself it was just a stupid little crush, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I saw you when Mom was sick… My mom was dying and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make things right for you.”

  “You did. You made me get out of bed, made me go back to school. You rescued me.”

  “I wanted to do more than rescue you. I wanted to take away the grief and the anger that was consuming you.”

  She shrugged. “No one can do that but me.”

  “I know. But I wanted to.”

  She touched the side of my face, the gesture more affectionate than any that’d come before it. “You’re too good to me.”