One More Night

by KB Winters

  His lips twitched, and I flipped him off. “One damn time and you never let me forget it. You’re just jealous the maid of honor found me first.”

  She’d been a hot and easy little number and the wedding was for a distant Connelly relative we rarely saw. “And the wedding went off without a hitch, so E-dawg should be so lucky.”

  “Fuck that,” Eamon laughed and picked up the bottle of Jameson, pouring a couple fingers and draining it quickly. “Layla wants a small wedding with just family. God bless my woman for saving me from a year of wedding planning.”

  “Unless she changes her mind,” I told him with an evil glint in my eyes.

  “Yeah well, there’s no talk of a wedding until we settle this shit with the Milanos. I can’t start my marriage with war hanging over our heads.”

  And that was the crux of why it was so damn hard to date any woman seriously in our line of work. Organized crime wasn’t an easy life, and being born into it the way Eamon, Rourke and I were, a different life wasn’t an option. Finding a woman like Layla who accepted all the parts of his life was like finding a fucking four leaf clover sprouting up in the desert outside of Rocket.

  I wanted the best for my brother and his bride, which was why tonight needed to go off without a hitch. “Then we better make sure this shit ends tonight.”

  “Hear, hear,” Rourke said and lifted his newly refilled glass in the air. Eamon and I joined in and finished off our drinks.

  “What, none for me?” Conor appeared at the side of the table looking every bit like the O’Donnell side of the family with his dark brown hair and green-specked brown eyes. A dimple winked in his right cheek when he smiled. It gave him a harmless look that many a man had mistakenly assumed meant he was harmless, which was far from the actual case.

  “Grab a seat. I hear you have good news.” Annoyance gone now that Conor had arrived, Eamon sat up straight and flagged down Maggie for another drink.

  Conor shrugged out of his own leather jacket and took a seat beside Rourke. “Frank and Gio rented a house over near The Highlands.”

  The Highlands was a cheap apartment complex made up of nearly a dozen seven story buildings. Much of the non-tourist-related crime in town originated from The Highlands.

  “They’re trying to buy up all the freelance workers?”

  Conor nodded, accepting his beer from Maggie with a wide, flirtatious grin that she barely noticed.

  “Trying to, being the operative phrase. No one knows who the fuck they are, and they’re not willing to tie themselves to an unknown horse when Connelly money is steady and guaranteed.”

  “You know that for a fact?” Eamon didn’t give a shit about anything but stopping threats to the family.

  “Yep. I stopped by The Highlands myself to talk to a few of our frequent flyers who wanted me to know they’d be happy to act as eyes or backup guns against these assholes.”

  Conor paused and took a long pull from his beer, never one to be rushed into doing anything. “Frank and Gio have big plans for tonight, dinner and a show at Wet Kitty.”

  Conor wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he mentioned one of the low end strip clubs in Rocket.

  I knew the place well because they never checked ID’s and the Wet Kitty was the first place I’d seen my first pair of live tits. They were fake as hell with slightly lopsided nipples from a botched boob job, but they were real and shoved in my face while Brandi gave me my first lap dance.

  “There are only two exits, front and back. We could get to them inside the club and have full cover to finish our business.”

  Eamon raised an eyebrow. “Got something you wanna tell us little brother?”

  “I just told you. And if we throw around a little bit of cash, the girls will be very generous with info.” The Wet Kitty was nothing like the high end clubs that catered to rich tourists and even richer gamblers, which meant the dancers were up for just about anything for some extra money.

  “Shae’s right,” Conor said with a knowing grin, because I suspected he also had be initiated into the beauty of the female form by that club.

  “Three reliable sources are working tonight. Cammie, Boo and Sugar are lined up to be our eyes and ears.”

  “You sure we can trust these girls?” Rourke asked. “Crack heads aren’t exactly the most reliable sources.”

  “I’m positive,” he said enthusiastically. “Boo is twenty-one and bears a striking resemblance to Frank Milano’s missing girlfriend.”

  The table fell silent at that little bit of information. She’d been missing for nearly a year, and it was widely suspected that he was the source of her disappearance and her likely death.

  “He’ll almost certainly book her for a private dance and that’ll give us the opening we need.”

  “What about Gio?”

  “Gio won’t leave the club without his brother, but we’ll have our guys surround him the minute Frank goes to get his dick wet.”

  Conor had thought everything out, which was exactly why he was the right man for this job. For all his flaws, Patrick had a knack for putting people in a job they would succeed at time and again. So far, Conor had yet to let him down, which was more than I could say for the rest of us.

  Eamon smacked his hands together and a slow grin spread. “You got everything all figured out for tonight?”

  “Yep. I do. I have eyes on Gio and Frank so we’ll know the moment they get moving.” A quick glance down at his watch and Conor said, “I assume they’ll go between eight and ten, which means we need to have our men in place and ready to strike when they leave.”

  “Not a problem,” Rourke said. “We’re ready when you are.”

  “I need to pick up Ivy and get her back to my place, but otherwise my schedule is wide open.”

  Eamon nodded his agreement. “We need Shamrock, so relieve him and put someone else in his place.”

  It was an order, not a suggestion. Under normal circumstances I might have bristled at his tone, but Eamon was right. Despite his fluffy teddy bear appearance, he was a mean son of a bitch when the situation called for it.

  “I’ll let him know now and get someone over there ASAP. Shamrock needs some downtime before tonight anyway.”

  I hated to put anyone else in charge of Ian’s protection, but tonight was important, too important to go in without our best men. I sent a quick text to Shamrock and turned back to the table. “We got dark weapons?”

  Conor’s grin split his face at the mention of weapons.

  “Fuck, yeah, we do. Just got a new shipment of semi’s, handguns and a few beautiful pieces of automatic machinery. We’re all good to go on the weapons front. Just make sure you guys are dressed for the occasion.”

  He finished his beer and eased himself out of the booth, pulling the black leather jacket back over his shoulders.

  “Keep your phones on boys and don’t forget to kiss your women and tell them you love them. See you lads around.”

  The table was quiet as Conor flirted with Maggie, paid the bill and left with her sassy rejection fresh in his ears. Eamon stood and shoved me out of his way.

  “Asshole,” I muttered.

  “Since Conor paid for the drinks,” Eamon said expansively. “I’m gonna go spend some time with my woman before tonight’s activities get under way. See you fuckers tonight, by then I’ll be ready to fuck some shit up.”

  He grinned happily, the look of a man who knew what was waiting for him when he got home. Lucky fucker.

  It was still early afternoon which gave us all a few hours to get our minds right before tonight, and I knew exactly how I planned to spend that time.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ivy

  Shae picked me up from the hospital, and as soon as I buckled myself into his fancy ass Lambo, he asked, “Did you have a good visit with your brother?”

  But he was acting weird, even when I said, “I did, we had a nice talk.”

  He kept quiet and sort of distracted, which wasn’t like Shae,
but since I was respecting the limits of our relationship, I kept my mouth shut and just talked about Ian.

  “I think my visit will change the dynamics of our relationship. Thanks for going to bat for me, Shae, but you really didn’t need to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Yeah, distracted. Had he forgotten what he’d said to Ian?

  “You know, when you visited last night.”

  It was a nice gesture, but it was the gesture of someone who gave a damn about me and my relationship with my brother. It was not what I expected from a guy who wanted to ‘see where things go,’ so I refused to read anything into it other than the fact that Shae was a guy who liked to solve problems.

  “Oh yeah. That. I know I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. Your brother seems like a good kid, but he was being a shit where you were concerned, It’s good for a man to be called out once in a while.”

  His mouth curled into a grin that was too damn appealing for a woman trying to keep her emotional distance.

  “Is that true for you, too?”

  He shrugged. “Believe me, Eamon and Rourke call me out constantly. They spent half the afternoon grilling me about you.”

  His tone was light, but I didn’t miss the way his grip tightened around the steering wheel.

  “Wanted to know if I was some plant to bring down the Irish mob?” I had to make light of it all because if I didn’t, well I might just break down at the surreal-ness of it all.

  “Nah, they were just giving me shit about having a woman at my house. I like to keep sex separate from my personal life.” And there was another glaring reminder just in case I had stars my eyes and imagined something that wasn’t there.

  “Noted,” I said and looked out the window at the passing traffic. Nothing to say after that convo shut the door for real on any ideas I might have about a future with Shae. Not that I had any, right?

  The car came to a stop right outside the front door, and I stepped out without waiting because things like opening doors were a surefire way to give a girl the wrong idea.

  “I’m sure you told them it was just to keep me safe.”

  He grunted a response, but I didn’t bother turning to see his expression. I didn’t want to see relief or any variation of it, despite the distance I was keeping, so I stayed facing the door as I waited for Shae to enter the seven digit code that turned off the alarm.

  “Ivy sweetheart, you drive me mad.”

  I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but I knew it was not a romantic overture, just a figure of speech.

  “I have that effect on people but don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

  His body heat warmed me from head to toe as he pressed against me, pulling an unstoppable shiver from me as he input the code.

  “I’m not sure I want it to,” he growled and pushed the door open, steering me inside where he pushed me up against the door with hell and fire in his eyes. Spearing his fingers through my hair seconds before his mouth crashed down on mine.

  I didn’t want to sink into that kiss, to melt in his arms, but I was powerless to do anything else when his taste – whiskey, mint and a hint of something that was undeniably Shae – exploded on my tongue. Shae was too much man, too damn appealing and too damn potent for me to resist, especially when his hands and mouth were on me, bringing me pleasure.

  God, he kissed like a man on a mission, and I was the sole target of that mission. His hands roamed while his mouth laid siege to mine, plundering, exploring and teasing me until I moaned, until my body vibrated with need.

  “Shae,” I whimpered, pulling away to catch my breath.

  He let out a growl of his own, giving me a long, assessing gaze before he tore every stitch of clothing from my body without regard to where they landed, giving his own clothes the same treatment.

  “I can’t wait,” he said, voice low and dark as if possessed by something darker.

  “Don’t wait, then.”

  “I won’t.”

  His mouth was on mine again, a slow drugging kiss that turned my knees weak before his mouth left mine and explored warm, sensitized skin. Every place his lips touched turned to fire, melting my flesh along with my resolve to hold a piece of myself back because there was nothing left to hold back. Shae had taken it all, leaving me with no defense against his particular brand of charm. And seduction.

  “Oh, oh yes!” I purred as his tongue touched my clit. Gently at first before he gave long, slow licks that sent goosebumps running down my skin.

  “Shae, please.”

  He pulled away and looked up at me, mouth slick with my juices and a naughty grin on his face. “Please what, babe?”

  “I need you.”

  He kissed me again between my thighs, a loud smacking kiss that pushed me that much closer to the edge before he stood, smiling.

  “Good because I’ve been thinking about fucking you since I was last inside you.”

  How could he make such dirty things sound so good? So enticing?

  Shae lifted me in the air with my back up against the front door and slowly slid me down the length of his cock until he was buried so deep that I felt him in the one place I didn’t want to.

  My heart.

  “Oh fuck, love, you’re so tight.”

  Love. It was a word spat out in the heat of passion, nothing more. It meant nothing, I told myself, even as a small part of me held on to the hope and let it fester. Love. The word echoed in my mind with every thrust inside my body, giving him the chance to take another little piece of me with him.

  Love.

  Every grunt and moan pulled from me made me a liar because no matter how much I denied it to him and to Ian, I couldn’t keep lying to myself.

  Love.

  I was in love with Shae Connelly, a member of the mob. Man whore. Commitment-phobe. In love with a man programmed not to love anyone but himself.

  “Yes! Oh fuck, yes!”

  That thought, along with the combination of his mouth on my overheated skin and his cock pounding into me, sent me spiraling into oblivion, wicked thoughts fighting to make their presence known when all I wanted to focus on was the pleasure of the orgasm, shaking my body until it trembled with white hot pleasure.

  Then Shae’s own pleasure took over, his chest pressed against mine so hard it nearly burned, but it changed the angle of our coming together and allowed him to thrust harder and faster into me until he let out a loud grunt. Slick skin smacking against slick skin was the only other sound in the room.

  “Oh fuck, Ivy. Yes!”

  His gaze landed on mine, looking satisfied and pleased with himself, but there was also something else, something that looked a bit too much like affection for my liking. A look that made me want to share with him the beauty of my feelings. Knowing they wouldn’t be appreciated was the only thing that kept my mouth closed.

  I slid down his body on wobbly legs, and without asking, Shae tossed me over his shoulder and carried me to his bedroom, where he started pleasing me all over again. The second time it was slower, more intimate and intense, and I knew it wasn’t about me.

  After he filled me the second time, I gripped his face in my hands until his gaze met mine.

  “I know you can’t or won’t tell me what you have to do tonight, and that’s fine. I don’t expect you to and it’s not what this is about. But please, be careful Shae.”

  His grin came slow and sweet and his kiss was even sweeter.

  “I’m always careful, sweetheart. But it’s nice to know you care.” He tossed a wink over his shoulder and made his way to the shower. When I heard the rush of water hitting the wall of tile, I fell back against the bed and groaned.

  The problem was that I cared too damn much, and Shae, well, he didn’t care at all.

  Story of my fucking life.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Shae

  Leaving Ivy naked and sleeping was harder than I thought it would be. Harder than it should be for a temporary relationship. But tonight was the ni
ght we made the Milano family regret fucking with the Connelly Organization, and I couldn’t think about her or a relationship right now. I couldn’t afford any distractions. That was what Ivy was, a big damn blue-eyed distraction that could get me killed if I didn’t stop thinking about those sensual curves or the sweet husky sound of her voice when she exploded around me.

  “Earth to Shae? What the fuck, man?” Eamon punched me in the arm, glowering at me like I’d gone crazy. “You okay to do this tonight?”

  I shrugged off his hand. “Fuck yeah I’m okay to do this. More than okay, actually.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, sucked in several deep breaths, and pushed them out slowly, ridding myself of the final thoughts of Ivy. Until later.

  “I’m fine, bro. Trust me.”

  Eamon continued to eye me like I was just released from the fucking hospital yesterday. “This is why you don’t bust a nut before a big fight. I need you on edge, not relaxed with that goofy, fucking grin on your face.”

  I glared at him and silently cursed Ivy for invading my thoughts at the worst possible time. “I said I’m fine so don’t go worrying about where I put my nut.”

  Rourke snorted a laugh and Conor clapped his hands together, drawing the attention of at least a dozen men his way. “If you boys are done with the dick talk, maybe we can get on with busting some goddamn skulls?”

  Conor flashed his boyish grin, looking every bit like the kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. “Once we’re done here, beers on me and you can tell all the dick jokes ya want, aye?”

  A few of the guys we’d brought in for muscle laughed, clapped and whistled their appreciation. Right now everyone was high on the fight to come, but once everything was done and the shock and adrenaline wore off, they’d all want to crash on a soft, warm surface. Maybe seek comfort in the tender, willing body of a woman; food; family; or some combination of them all.

  The high would wear off and even though the satisfaction would linger, so would other feelings, the ones you couldn’t think about.

  “Calm down,” E-money demanded. Arms folded with a look on his face that was so eerily Patrick, Eamon stared at every man until there was absolute silence around us all.