Gael: The Callaghan Mafia Book 3

by Rylan, Savannah

  “You think I’m the kind of man that resorts to murder just to get my point across?”

  She shook her head quickly. “No. I’m sorry. I just—”

  My hands came down against the front door. Trapping her between us. Between her locked escape to the outside world and the few inches that sat between my body and hers.

  “Would you really think that of the boy you once had a crush on?”

  She blinked. “You—what?”

  I dipped in and sniffed her neck. “Oh, come on, Miss Colleen. Did you really think I didn’t know?”

  My nose trailed along the shell of her ear and I swore I heard her gasp.

  “Gael. I didn’t know you knew.”

  I chuckled softly. “I don’t know why everyone always takes me for a fool. Maybe it’s because I’m not as loud as Declan.”

  I grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the door. “Or not as flashy as Brody.”

  I pinned her other wrist over her head. “Or not as stealthy as Flynn.”

  My eyes danced between hers as she drew in a shuddering breath.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.

  I placed a soft kiss against her forehead. “Why don’t you tell me about one of your fantasies?”

  “What?”

  I pressed my knee between her legs. “Now. Tell me one of your fantasies. From when you used to daydream about me.”

  She shook her head. “I-I-I—I never—”

  I shoved her wrists up the door, causing her to yelp. “Gael!”

  “Don’t you lie to me. Not tonight.”

  She nodded quickly. “Okay, okay, okay. Um, I, well…”

  “Yes?”

  Her eyes found mind. “There was this one dream I had once.”

  “Just once?”

  She blushed. “Maybe more than once.”

  “Don’t you lie to me again,” I growled.

  She nodded quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s just—kind of embarrassing.”

  My lips fell to her neck. “Mmmm, describe it to me.”

  She gasped. “Well, it’s just—I—we were, uh.”

  I kissed her skin softly. “Did I kiss you like that?”

  She sighed. “No.”

  I nibbled her earlobe. “Did I tease you like that?”

  She whimpered softly. “Not really.”

  I dipped down and gripped her thighs, hoisting her against the door. I pinned her there, my body flush against hers as her hands clung to the collar of my suit.

  “Did I take you? Like this?”

  I rolled my pelvis against her. Making her feel the thickness of my cock. Making her eyes roll back as her hands slipped around my neck. Holy fuck, I already felt her wetness. Her warmth. I already smelled her. Her body, freely caving to me. Despite the fear in her eyes.

  “Maybe,” she whispered.

  I buried my face into her tits. “Mmm, I think someone likes to be owned.”

  “I-I-I—it wasn’t like that. You—there was—”

  I gripped her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “Did I make you come, Miss Colleen? Did you cry out my name as my cock dove into your depths? Did you whimper and beg for mercy until I pulled every last orgasm from you? Did I mark your body with my teeth? Did I tie you down and make you my little cock dumpster? Huh? Is that what I did to you?”

  My cock leaked as tears rushed her eyes.

  “You told me you loved me before using a toy to take my virginity so you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Her words doused me in cold water. My grip against her cheeks softened. The anger that coursed through my veins made me snarl. But the reality of her words made me drop her. I took a step back as she leaned against the door. She panted for air and blinked back tears as I kept backing up the steps. Rising further and further until the smell of stale coffee coming from the kitchen ripped me from my trance.

  Coffee. I needed coffee.

  And I needed time to deal with my anger on my own.

  4

  Colleen

  My eyes fell open and I stared at the wall in front of me. Despite my restless mind, I slept fairly well, which wasn’t something I had expected after last night. I rolled over onto my back and stretched. I yawned, wincing at my jaw popped. I hated that sound. It happened every time I yawned. And all because I didn’t receive the proper medical attention I needed whenever I fell down the steps as a child.

  Typical of my father.

  I gazed up at the ceiling and sighed. I threw my arm over my face to see if I could go back to sleep. Last night had been nerve-wracking. I struggled between kissing Gael and crying. Holding him and pushing him away. I still felt the phantom kisses of his lips against my skin. I still felt the warmth of his body as it sat pressed against my own. He had paid for me. For my virginity. Right?

  So, why the hell had he abandoned me last night?

  That was all that happened. He backed his way up the stairs until he disappeared into the upper level of the brownstone. And I stood there, in front of the door, like an idiot. I could’ve run. I could’ve unlocked the door. But instead, I stood there like a deer in headlights. Afraid that if I moved even a millimeter off, Gael would come rushing back downstairs and take what was rightfully his.

  I stood like that until his footsteps faded away. Until he was done clanging around in the kitchen and decided to head further upstairs. It wasn’t until I heard a door slam in the distance that I realized what had happened.

  He left me at the front door to go to bed.

  Why didn’t you leave?

  It was a question I asked myself all night. As I peeled myself away from the front door and nervously walked up the steps. As I emerged into the kitchen and gazed around the room. As I walked to the back window and peeked through the curtains long enough to see the water’s edge bucking against his backyard.

  He had a really nice place.

  Behind the kitchen was a spare room that didn’t have anything in it. It was bare. No furniture. No pictures. No boxes. And just to the left of the staircase was a set of curtained double doors. That was where I found the bed I crashed in. I threw open the doors, found a beautiful queen-sized bed, and flopped onto my face. I hadn’t heard another peep out of Gael all night. After he slammed his door upstairs, there was nothing but silence. He didn’t come back down to slip into bed with me. He didn’t come downstairs to cash in on what he had purchased.

  He didn’t even come into my bedroom this morning to peek in on me.

  What does he expect me to do?

  The smell of coffee wafted underneath my nose. My arm slid away from my face and I slowly sat up. Coffee was my vice. Anyone could entice me to do anything with a good mug of coffee. And the stronger the scent grew, the more I slipped out of bed.

  He owns you. Step carefully.

  I froze. I looked down at my clothes and I noticed my breast hanging free from my dress. I cursed softly to myself and shoved it back in, trying to rearrange the dress in an orderly fashion. I looked around for my heels. Where the hell had they gotten off to? I found my glasses on the floor and I picked them up. I spotted a mirror hanging on the wall and I rushed over to take a look at myself. And the sight was awful.

  “You look like death frozen over,” I murmured to myself.

  I heard the sound of a chair scratching across the floor as I ran my fingers through my hair. I grimaced at the clip-in hair extensions my father forced me to put in my hair at the last minute. I went through and unclipped them all. I tossed them to the floor and fluffed my hair out. I needed a bathroom to clean up the makeup running down my face. The mascara that had smeared. The lipstick that tainted my cheek.

  Oh, no. His pillow.

  I whipped my head back over to the bed and stifled a groan. My God, Gael was going to kill me for that. It didn’t take a wizard to know the thread count on that bed was more than what my life was worth. And the pillowcase was covered in makeup.

  “White sheets. Who the hell owns white sheets anymore?” I whispered. />
  As I stood in the mirror, trying to fix my eyes beneath my glasses, I tried to stop the barrage of memories. It was stupid how much I had thought of Gael over the years. I always wondered how he was doing. How he was getting along. Where he was and what he was up to. I never did understand the feud between our families. My father always preached that we were neutral with the Callaghans. But then he’d act a completely different way toward them. It boggled my mind. It made me sick. I didn’t understand why we couldn't all just get along and not slaughter one another in the process.

  “Maybe he’ll let you take a shower,” I murmured.

  My hands fell to my sides in defeat. There was no cleaning up my face without a sink and a washcloth. But the room down here didn’t have a bathroom. Or maybe the bathroom was somewhere else.

  I have to pee so badly.

  I looked over at the double doors and sighed. I’d have to go out there. I’d have to see him eventually. I couldn't stay cooped up in this bedroom. Nor could I avoid him in his own place. He’d find me eventually. I’d have to face him.

  Maybe then, he’d tell me why in the world he was so angry.

  Well, his father did die recently. And his warehouse burned down.

  Pain blossomed in my heart for the man.

  I knew he was hurting, and I cursed the part of myself that wanted to hold him. That wanted to soothe his hurt and his fears away. Because I had to play this as cautiously as possible. That man owned me until ten o’clock tonight. And if I stepped wrong, it would spell disaster for me.

  He’s not the same boy you grew up with. Tread lightly.

  After giving myself a necessary pep talk, I reached for the double doors. I slowly inched them open, the smell of coffee battering my nostrils. I needed a mug. Or possibly two. But what I needed more than anything else was a bathroom. I prayed Gael wasn’t out here. That the kitchen was empty. That he had gotten his coffee, sat down to drink it, and dispersed.

  I wasn’t so lucky, though.

  His figure sat at the kitchen table, hunched over some open files. I heard the scribblings of a pen going on as he ran his hand through his hair. He was in a pair of khakis. A white button-down shirt. And as his bare feet planted themselves firmly into the hardwood flooring of the kitchen, I watched him crack his neck.

  “Bathroom’s upstairs,” he said flatly.

  I peered over at the stove, thinking there might have been food to accompany coffee. But there weren’t even dirty pans signaling that something had been cooked. I searched around for the coffee pot. But all I found was one of those single-serving machines. I walked over to it, keeping my footsteps as quiet as I could. I quickly fixed up the machine and searched around for a mug, quietly opening and closing the cupboards.

  “Cream is in the fridge. No sugar, though.”

  His smooth tenor voice filled my ears as goosebumps caressed my arm.

  I didn’t dare say anything. I didn’t dare make a peep unless he asked me a question. Mostly, because I was hoping to come out of this with my life still intact. I pressed the button to brew myself a cup of coffee then headed for the stairs. Taking them two by two, as silently as I could, just so I could put more barriers between us.

  Between me and the carcass of the boy I once had a crush on.

  The boy you still have a crush on.

  I shook the thought from my head as I raced up the steps. It didn’t take me long to find the bathroom, and I rushed into the room. I locked the door and sighed with relief. I strode for the toilet and started my morning routine. Well, as much of it as I could do. I washed my face with hand soap. I swished some mouthwash around that I found. And after running a wide-toothed comb I found through my hair, I felt a little more presentable.

  Other than this hideous, pathetic scrap of fabric men called a “dress.”

  The seductive smell of my coffee pulled me back downstairs. With Gael still hunched over his papers. I creamed up my coffee a bit and picked up the mug, humming over its scent.

  “I need silence.”

  I swallowed hard as I leaned against the kitchen counter.

  His scribbling continued as I studied him from behind. The breadth of his shoulders. The soft taper into his waist. The slim legs, still powerful yet spindly. Gael had always been lanky. But the body he filled out now very much boasted of the man he had turned into. Gone was the childlike voice and the impish quality of his strut. Gone were the questionable glances and the hesitation in his voice.

  Gael had become a man.

  But what kind of man?

  I decided to make a choice. One that might seal my fate in a direction that left me scarred for life. However, I felt the little boy still trapped inside Gael was worth it. We were all still down there, somewhere. The clumsy little bookworm that held his stare for a bit too long was still inside me. She was just… hurt. Scared. Afraid to peek out. Afraid that the world might bury her without a second thought.

  Maybe that little boy was still inside Gael. Itching to come out for the right person.

  Or he’ll take what’s his and leave you crying.

  Gael was worth it, though.

  He’d always been worth it.

  “Whatcha working on?”

  His scribblings ceased as I walked over to the kitchen table.

  “Hmm?” I asked.

  I sat down in the chair across from him before his pen started scribbling again.

  “Work,” he said.

  “What kind of work?”

  “Operations.”

  “So, warehouses?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Nice.”

  Silence filled the air again as I sipped my coffee.

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “So, you couldn't imagine yourself doing anything else?”

  He sighed heavier. “No.”

  “Do you ever get to travel like you wanted?”

  His pen stopped moving again and his eyes slowly met mine. His face was set in stone. The bags under his eyes were heavy. The blank stare he afforded me froze my soul. But something about it made my heart ache.

  What happened to you, Gael?

  “When I can,” he said curtly.

  “That’s really nice. Where have you been?”

  “Ireland,” he said as his gaze dropped back to his paperwork.

  “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. Is it really green year-round?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I bet it’s gorgeous. Where else have you been?”

  He clicked his tongue. “Australia.”

  My eyes widened. “Holy shit, seriously?”

  His head snapped up and I closed my mouth. I rolled my lips over my teeth and brought my coffee mug up to my chin. As if it would defend me the second Gael decided to lunge for me over this table. His inquiring eyes danced along my face. He narrowed his eyes before leaning back into his chair. And as he dropped his pen, he folded his arms over his chest.

  “Does this conversation have a point, Miss Colleen?”

  I blinked. “Not really a conversation if you’re not participating.”

  He didn't respond, though. He simply waited until I answered his question.

  “Yes, Mr. Callaghan. It does,” I said.

  He winced. “Care to fill me in on it, then?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I’m just wondering if you’re happy with your life.”

  And at my question, he slowly rose from his seat.

  5

  Gael

  As I stood, watching Colleen’s eyes follow me, only one question entered my mind. One simple word that encompassed every emotion rushing through my muscles as my thighs contracted to stand me tall.

  Why?

  Why did this woman give one single shit about my happiness? Why the hell did she want to play as if she cared? Because I knew it wasn’t possible for her to care. To actually care. We hadn’t seen one another in years. It had been longer than that since we talked.

  Unless she s
till has feelings for you.

  “Gael?”

  “Hush,” I said plainly.

  I drew in a deep breath. It didn’t matter if she still had feelings. If, for some misguided reason, this woman was still looking for the lost puppy inside me. Despite how I might’ve felt about her once before, it didn’t change things now. It didn’t change her predicament or the fact that I owned her for my own self-doing.

  Stop wasting your money, Gael. Take what’s yours.

  “Gael, all I want is—”

  “Hush,” I said again.

  She stood to match me. “No, I won’t.”

  She doesn't get it. “You will. You’ll do as I ask.”

  “Just talk to me. That’s all I want.”

  “And what I want is for the woman that is now mine to go upstairs, get undressed, and lay down in bed for me.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  I came around the table. “You heard me. Go upstairs, get undressed, and lay down in bed. Now.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  I paused. “Come again?”

  “What if I don’t? Are you going to kill me? Like my father would’ve had no issue doing?”

  I snickered. “What your father might or might not have done no longer matters. You’re mine, and you’ll do as I say.”

  “I’m yours until tonight. Then—”

  “You’re mine forever. It’s why I bought you.”

  Her lips parted in shock. “Excuse me?”

  I cocked my head. “Miss Colleen, I bought you last night permanently. There is no going back. Your father doesn’t matter now because you don’t belong to him. You belong to me.”

  Her eyes watered. “But I was told—”

  “Did you really think I’d spend millions of dollars on something I could only have for a day? What kind of investment is that?”

  She licked her lips. “But I—they told me—”

  “I don’t care what they told you. I signed a contract. If you’d like to see it, that’s fine. But that contract I signed last night makes you mine. Flat out. I don’t pay millions of dollars for things I don’t keep, Miss Colleen.”

  She held her head high. “I won’t let you hurt me.”