Maggie raises her hands and shrugs her shoulders, as if to say, so fucking what?
I have a feeling I know what the problem is without even hearing a word. Amelia must have seen Maggie slip into the room. It’s obvious that she thinks our behavior is inappropriate but, honestly, no one else seems to be noticing or caring. And it’s not like we’re screwing out in the open—not that I’d have a problem with any exhibitionism Maggie wanted to explore.
You’re keeping your dick in your pants, asshole. Remember?
“Enough, Amelia!”
“Everything okay here, Maggie?” I ask as I move in next to her.
Amelia looks at me and flushes, her mouth dropping into a comical “oh” like she really had no idea I was standing there.
Maggie has her arms crossed, and her mouth is a tight line. She shakes her head. “Everything is fine. We’re done here.”
Amelia drops her hand and gives Maggie one last withering glare before walking away.
I put my arm around Maggie’s waist. “You sure you’re fine?”
Maggie slumps into me, her head resting against my shoulder. I could tuck her into my underarm if I wanted to, but instead I curl my arm around and nestle her closer. It amazes me how well she fits with me. I feel like she’s meant to be curled up next to me so I can keep her close, not to protect her necessarily, but to feel connected.
That’s a dangerous thought.
She sighs and puts her hand on my chest. “I’ll be fine. I’m just getting so tired of this propriety stuff from her. She cornered me when I came out, saying she heard us moaning, and then proceeded to give me shit, again, for being so scandalous.”
“Your family has a thing about keeping up appearances, eh?” I ask, leaning down to kiss the top of her head gently, wondering why it seems so easy to be with Maggie. To hold her and comfort her. I keep having to remind myself that she’s not actually mine.
“Appearances are everything to Mom and my sisters. They’re so worried about what other people think.”
“I really doubt anyone else is noticing what we’re up to,” I say. “Everyone else seems to be enjoying the weekend and aren’t really paying attention to us.” Except for maybe the detective, but he’s got his attention solely on me and my brothers right now.
Maggie looks up at me, her lips quirking into a half smile. “You don’t think we’re being scandalous?”
“Not yet.” I quirk a smile of my own just as my phone rings. It’s Cormac’s ring tone. “Hey, I gotta take this. Give me a minute, okay?”
Maggie nods and motions toward the lobby as I take the call.
“What’s up, Mac?”
“We need you on this job.” He sounds pissed, but I know it’s not directed toward me.
“Not going to happen.” I switch hands and move to the sliding doors that will take me to a patio. There are a few benches set up with a coffee station off to the side, but no one is sitting out here.
“Liam, this whole fucking situation is a clusterfuck.” Mac is puffing away on a cigarette. I can hear him inhale and exhale like he’s in some kind of race. He quit before I went to prison, had made it two years without a smoke, but started up again while I was gone. Now he’s up to a pack a day for sure, probably more. And he looks like death, all skin and bones, dark circles under his eyes. If smoking doesn’t kill him, the stress he’s constantly under will. “Shawn doesn’t know the first thing about negotiating—”
I sigh, rub my hand over my eyes, and take a seat on one of the benches. “Listen, man, I’ve been trying to tell you guys that for months. When I brokered deals, I didn’t get involved with the negotiations or the transactions. I just connected people. The shit didn’t hit the fan until Shawn started getting involved with making the deals happen on his terms rather than staying out of it like I did. You know that’s why I ended up doing time, right? Because of Shawn’s need to control everything? He put me in an impossible situation and then left me holding the bag when the cops came. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
That wasn’t entirely accurate. I could have let Shawn take the fall. I could have made a deal.
Shawn stayed out of my shit until eight years ago when he became immensely interested in expanding my business into territory I didn’t want to go. He started with an idiotic deal to shift a load of counterfeit purses, and I stupidly got tangled up in the mess, trying to undo what he started. That’s when I got caught holding the bag, pun intended. It wasn’t until those metaphorical bars slammed closed that I realized he’d set me up. And I could have turned traitor, but I didn’t. I kept my mouth closed.
Call it family loyalty or maybe just stupid logic, but he’s my brother, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of him going to prison or, worse, my other two brothers going to prison.
Things are worse now. His current business model not only involves black market shit, but clients who have no problem killing and stealing to get what they want.
I should have turned him in when I had the chance.
“Liam, listen to me—”
“No, Mac, you listen to me. You and Ro need to bail on this fucking deal today, now. Shawn can’t do it without you guys, and he’ll come to his senses if you put the brakes on.”
Only part of that is the truth. Shawn can’t do his deal without Ronan and Cormac, but I don’t totally believe he’ll stop, even if he loses his support system. He’s been building a network of thugs while I’ve been away, connecting with people who can’t be trusted, and probably has enough guys to fill in if needed. He just likes to work with his brothers because he knows how loyal we are.
“Nah, man, he won’t put the brakes on. He’s fixated on this one. And you don’t understand what he’s like now.” Cormac coughs then takes another drag. “He won’t listen to us, but he’ll listen to you. I know he will. Come home and fix this. You can make it work; I know you can. Just smooth it out.”
I shake my head. “No, Mac, I can’t and I won’t. I’m not going to jail for Shawn again. And if I were you, I’d clear out, too, because if he goes down, so will you. Fuck, even if he doesn’t go down, you might.”
“Liam—”
“I lost four years, man. Four fucking years!” I close my eyes, remembering the feel of confinement, the restrictions on my daily activities, what I ate, when I ate it, what I could do with any free time, if I even had free time, danger and deception at every turn. Thinking and thinking about the things passing by, about the missed opportunities. I might have met someone. I could have married, had kids. I might have had a different life.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Mac’s words are sincere. I know he feels badly about it all, even though none of it was his fault. He visited me as often as he could in the time that I was away, and I clung to those visits. It gets so damn lonely in there.
“I can’t get involved. Not like that.”
“I know, man. I shouldn’t have asked.” He takes another drag. “Hang on, Ronan wants to talk to you.”
I take a moment to regroup, to shove those dark pointless thoughts away where they belong.
There’s a muffled sound of the speaker being covered, and then Ronan’s on the line.
“Liam, how’s things going with watching the detective? He recognize you?” He’s laughing as he says it, and I can’t help but smirk. “I think it’ll be hilarious if he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he recognized me. Said a few things to let me know he’s got his eyes on me. So I guess we’re watching each other this weekend.” I don’t mention the detective’s offer to rat on my brothers and save myself. I would never do that to Ronan and Cormac, and ratting on Shawn means harming them, too.
Loyalty may not be something Shawn gets, but I’ve got my own set of morals.
“Really?” I can tell Ronan is walking; there’s wind whistling into the phone. “Hey listen.” He lowers his voice. “Shawn’s g
oing nuts here, man. I’m not sure…” There’s a muffling sound before Ronan speaks again. “I think it’s going to go sideways just like you said. Mac is freaking out, but I think I have a way to derail this thing without Shawn suspecting. We don’t need you here getting all caught up in this shit, but I’m going to send you a file with some paperwork, just some things that Shawn overlooked. I could use your eyes on it, see what you think.”
“Will this lead back to you in any way?”
“Nah, man.” There’s a heavy pause. “I mean, I don’t think so. I need you to look it over.”
I sigh. That will mean I will have some specific knowledge of what Shawn’s up to tomorrow. That will take me into territory I don’t want to go and could land me in some heat if the wrong people find out. But I can’t leave Ronan hanging. I just can’t.
Fuuuuck.
“Fine, send it. I’ll take a look.”
“Great, just give me an hour to get home.”
I check the time. An hour. Right. “Listen, I’m heading into a big family lunch—I mean, I’m meeting this girl’s parents for lunch. Don’t ask.”
“You’re meeting her parents? What the actual f—”
“I said, don’t ask. It’s complicated.” Maggie is waving at me from the door. “Just don’t expect an immediate response, okay?”
I’m a few steps away when Aunt Chrissy slides in front of Maggie and pushes open the door, holding a pair of what looks like juggler’s balls.
“Oh, Liam! I saved a set of balls for you!”
“A set of what!” Ronan barks in my ear. “Bro, what kind of lunch is this?”
“I told you not to ask.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Take your time. I just need to hear from you before tonight, k?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Later.” Ronan disconnects before I can say anything else.
Worry races through my head and pools in my gut, twisting unpleasantly. The stress of getting sucked back into Shawn’s shit is distracting. But then I shift my eyes to Maggie, and her smile is enough to lower my blood pressure.
Aunt Chrissy is looking at me expectantly.
I take a deep breath and smile. “What do I need some balls for?”
“For the race, of course!” Aunt Chrissy rotates the balls in her hands then motions for us to follow as she beelines to the lobby.
Of course. I look at Maggie for some kind of explanation, and her shit-eating grin tells me all I need to know.
“How humiliating is this going to be?”
She sidles up next to me, her arm around my waist. “Don’t worry, everyone is playing except for Grandma, so the humiliation will be a group experience.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She squeezes my waist and leans into me, the side of her tit pushing against my chest as she goes on tiptoes to lick my ear. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
How I’m ever going to keep my cool around this sweet girl, I will never know. “You are incorrigible.”
She laughs.
“I’m only doing this because it’ll make you happy.” It was always the plan to make sure Maggie was happy this weekend, but I’m feeling things that I wasn’t expecting to feel. Crazy, heart-thudding feelings. Gotta shove that shit aside and stay clear of that rabbit hole of a complication. It’s better for emotions to stay in check.
“I know.” She cocks her head to the side. “You’re actually way sweeter than I thought you’d be. All that brooding you do at the coffee shop…I would never have guessed you’d be so good at the family thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Her comment catches me off guard. My family hasn’t felt like a family for a very long time, and I definitely haven’t felt like I’m good at anything where my brothers are concerned since well before I went to jail.
But she’s still smiling. “Yep, that whole tall, dark, and dangerous thing is a complete front, isn’t it? You’re all soft and mushy on the inside.”
I growl, crush her against me, and capture her lips with mine, plunging my tongue into her mouth so fiercely that she gasps against me. She arches her body up, and I grip her ass firmly, not caring who’s watching or who might not approve. Her lips are puffy when I pull away.
“Was that all soft and mushy?”
Her eyes are glazed, and she wobbles a little on her feet as I let her go. “No,” she sighs.
“Come on, you two! The game is about to begin!”
The distraction gives me time to unwind my twisted-up feelings. My control is slipping. Too much emotion, way too much heat. All I want to do right now is drag Maggie up to our room or, fuck, I’d be happy pounding her up against the nearest wall. Not good. Not good at all. I’ve got to keep my head.
We make it to the doors of a large banquet hall where Aunt Chrissy is waiting for us. She shoos Maggie off of me and holds up what looks like a couple of heavy balls in the end of one leg of some pantyhose.
“What the…”
Aunt Chrissy takes one end and wraps it around my waist then quickly ties it at the front so that the balls are hanging between my legs, low enough to almost touch the ground. I look past her into the room where the dance floor has been converted into a racetrack. All of the men are lined up at the start, and each has a different colored balloon at his feet.
Aunt Chrissy takes my hand and pulls me inside, directing me to the end of the starting line, and puts a purple balloon down in front of me.
“Now remember, men, this is a race, but there will be no hanky-panky going on! No hands, no feet, just swing your hips and move those balloons with your sac of balls.” She laughs. “Don’t forget, be gentle! You don’t want to burst your balloons!”
I shoot Maggie a look to let her know how serious payback is going to be, but she’s laughing too hard to notice or care.
Uncle Bernard motions to a waiter who has just brought in a tray of shots. “Fortify yourselves, gentlemen!”
I take my shot and down it. Ugh, tequila. It burns its way to my gut like a lump of fire.
“Practice, fellas! Make sure your balls work!” Aunt Chrissy yells.
I lick my lips, then with a deep sigh I position myself, taking a couple practice swings with my hips to get the momentum.
“Men, no one will speak of this outside of this room,” Detective Chandler says.
“Too late for that, Fred!” Aunt Geri says, holding up her phone. “I bet it goes viral!”
Chapter Twelve
Maggie
Having a pretend boyfriend is actually fantastic. You don’t have to worry much about saying or doing the wrong thing. After this weekend, Liam and I go back to being coffee slinger/coffee guzzler, so there’s no feeling of pressure to do all the right things to keep him interested. And that is a weight off that makes this whole thing way more fun.
I’m not feeling my usual inhibitions, but that could just be because of Liam himself. Everything about him is sexy, and I feel so sensual when I’m with him, like whatever I do or suggest I feel like he’d be totally game, and that makes me even more willing to try things out.
I squirm a little in my seat, my thoughts still on the blowjob I gave him in the massage room. I like how hard he was in my mouth and how forceful his cum shot down my throat. First time I’ve ever done that and all I can think about is doing it again.
With Liam, I’m having a lot of firsts, and yeah, it’s fun as hell.
“You really know how to move your hips,” I tease when the race ends. Surprisingly, Uncle Bernard won the balloon race, but Liam came in a close second. The men are still cheering and jeering, but Liam and I are off to the side and away from the crowd. I help him untie the pantyhose that are still around his waist. “But I guess I already know that.”
“You…” He pulls me against his body as I come around his front, pantyhose in hand. “Re
quire some serious punishment for that little trick.”
“Mmm. I think I’d like your kind of punishment. Tell me more.”
He pulls me closer, crushing me against his chest. I know everyone is watching us, and I realize I like being the center of attention when it comes to this, scandalous or not. It’s nice to have someone to fool around with.
His eyes look dangerous, the spark of something that lets me know just what he’s thinking…or at least the direction that his thoughts are going, even if I don’t know exactly what he might be thinking up for my punishment.
He kisses me softly, not in a way that I was expecting, and it makes me gasp because it feels different from the other times he’s kissed me. When he pulls away and looks down at me, a curl of a smile is on his lips. “I’m having fun,” he says, almost like that’s a surprise to him. “I mean, I didn’t know what to expect, but this…it’s refreshing. My family…” He bites his lip, something flashing in his eyes. “Well, they’re just not into doing this kind of thing anymore.”
“You two should get a room.” Charlotte is smiling as she says this, so I don’t take it like a dig. She’s got Doug next to her—who always seems to lighten her mood—and she’s nodding to the table of relatives, letting them know she’s going there next. “Liam, this is my husband, Doug.”
Liam unlatches himself from me and shakes Doug’s hand. “The surgeon.”
“Yes, and you’re the broker.” Doug is nodding vigorously as he shakes Liam’s hand.
They’re about the same height, but where Liam is tall and broad, densely packed and muscled, Doug is wiry and athletic looking. Doug runs marathons, of course, and does yoga. Somehow in his impossibly hectic life, he finds time to hit the gym every day. I’m not sure what Liam does to keep himself in shape, but he’s got to be doing a serious regimen of some sort, because there isn’t an ounce of fat on the man. If he does have any, he’s hiding it somewhere I haven’t seen.
Keep Me Wanting Page 11
