by A. Zavarelli
A secret smile tugs at my lips as I bury my face against the pillow. “What are you thinking?”
“Pancakes.” He nips at my shoulder.
A girlish laugh bursts from my chest, surprising me. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“No?” His other hand slips between my thighs, fingers gliding through the stickiness that’s already gathered there.
I arch against him, splaying my legs wide open like a lovesick fool. “Definitely wouldn’t have guessed that.”
Conor rolls me onto my back and mounts me, lowering his body between my thighs and yanking down his briefs like a caveman. “Maybe with syrup. Or strawberries. I haven’t decided yet.”
I wrap my legs around his waist when he pushes inside of me, and his eyelids grow heavy with drunken satisfaction. Conor doesn’t just like to fuck me, he likes to own me. He’s been rough with me. Possessive, hard, demanding. But right now, he’s soft and slow, rolling his hips in and out of me like he has all day to stay just like this.
He kisses me and inhales me and whispers in my ear how much he likes being inside of me. I come twice for him, and then he finishes with a tormented groan that seems to go on forever. When he collapses into the bed and drags me back against his chest, I’m still trying to figure out what just happened. I can’t be sure, but it feels like my husband just made love to me.
“Just a few more minutes,” he murmurs sleepily. “Then pancakes.”
23
CONOR
THE PHONE in my pocket chimes again, and I ignore it, turning my attention back to Archer. His eyes are wide with an innocence only a child can possess as he watches the prairie dogs poke their heads up at Franklin Park zoo.
“Everything okay?” Ivy asks.
I secure an arm around her waist and pull her against me, secretly groping her ass while my lips violate the soft skin around her ear. “It’s grand.”
Her eyes fall shut, and she leans into me, but it’s a false comfort. Every time she gives in, her mind resists, and little by little the tension bleeds back into her body. She’s still fighting this connection between us. Her mind is a puzzle, and at times, I don’t know if it’s me or her own feelings she’s at war with.
She looks up at me with eyes that betray her confliction. “If you have stuff to do, you don’t have to stay.”
My jaw scratches against her cold skin, and she shivers. “Aye, I have stuff to do. Like spending the day with you and Archer.”
She buries her head in my chest to hide her expression, but I want to believe that for right now, she’s content. Just as Archer is over the next three hours while we follow him over every reasonable inch of the zoo. He presses his face against each glass enclosure we come across, carefully examining the little critters that peek back out at him. He chatters excitedly, and I catch a few rare glimpses of Ivy’s pretty smile. And I think she should be smiling like that all the time. She should also be wearing my ring on her finger, but it’s something I’ve yet to sort out.
“Thank you,” she tells me on the drive home. “That meant a lot to him. He had so much fun today.”
I glance over at her. “They’re only wee for a little while. They should enjoy every second of it.”
She melts into her seat and sighs. “I’m exhausted.”
I reach over and squeeze her knee. “Then ye better get a cup of coffee when we get home. The night is still young.”
She blinks. “What do you mean?”
“I had a notion I might take ye out this evening.”
The gears in her mind are turning, that much is obvious, but I don’t know what’s going on in there until she speaks. “What about Archer?”
“I’ve already sorted out a sitter. Rory is game to hang with the little lad.”
“Really?” She arches a brow.
“Aye, he loves kids. Can’t wait to have twenty or so of his own.”
Ivy’s fingers tangle together in her lap as she stares off into the distance. She’s nervous. It’s natural that she should be, and that’s what makes her a good mother. But at some point, she’ll need to learn to trust me.
“The lad will be just fine,” I promise. “We look after our own. No harm will ever come to Archer while he’s with Rory. I wouldn’t ask him if I didn’t trust him with my own life.”
She digests my words in her own time, and I don’t bother her until she’s settled into the idea. “Alright.” She shrugs. “I guess a couple hours out would be okay.”
“What are we doing here?” Ivy eyeballs the back door of Sláinte like it’s the gate to hell.
Ignoring her tone, I reach down to help her out of the car. “Thought we’d pop in to say hi to the lads.”
She takes my hand, but her back is rigid. I didn’t think she’d turn up her nose at the club, but I suppose this is the part of the date where everything goes to shite. We’ve already been to dinner- a nice Russian restaurant owned by a mate in the Back Bay. Ivy kept insisting she didn’t need anything fancy, and I almost laughed when her eyes roamed over the menu prices. That sort of thing is nothing to me, but it’s a lot to her. Sometimes, I’d like to forget that she was sleeping on the streets and going without food just a short time ago. Those days are over, and I want her to know it.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She slips her hand into the elbow I offer as we walk toward the back door.
“I think it’s a grand idea. This is where all of my mates are, and I want ye to get to know them.”
She looks nervous as all get out but doesn’t argue about it any further.
“There’s just one wee little detail.” I stop before we go inside and turn to face her. “It’s an important one.”
Her brows pinch together in concern. “What is it?”
“The lads don’t know we’re married. Not just yet. We need to keep it that way for a while.”
She stares down at her shoes like they hold all the answers to her problems. “I won’t say anything.”
If she has any questions about my reasoning, she doesn’t say so. It’s a discussion I intend to save for later, when I have more time to explain the dynamics of our brotherhood and Crow’s request. For now, I lean down and kiss her just because I can. Once her lipstick is good and thoroughly messed up, I’m satisfied that the lads won’t have any question about who she belongs to anyway.
Inside, the club is packed like it usually is on Friday nights, and the lads are scattered throughout the bar. I spot Crow and Mack through the crowd and make a beeline in that direction with the intention of introducing Ivy to her. But before we get that far, Reaper appears out of nowhere.
“Conor, I need a quick word with ye in private,” he says.
He wants to talk shop and being that I asked for his help keeping eyes on the Locos, this could be important. I don’t want to abandon Ivy to the wolves, but I know Crow’s missus will take good care of her.
I give her arse a good squeeze and bring my lips to her ear. “Head on over to Crow. I’ll be back shortly.”
She looks less than pleased when I send her on her way, and I tell Reaper we need to be quick. We sneak into Crow’s office for a bit of privacy and I get straight to business.
“What have ye heard?”
“You were right,” he says. “They’ve been looking for her. I snatched up one of their latest recruits, not a very bright one at that. Only had to cut off three of his fingers to get him talking.”
Ronan discusses the gory details of his job with a blank face. He’s got the stomach for torture, but right now the specifics don’t matter. I need to know what was said, and I tell him so.
“The lad says the Locos want to perform some sort of honor killing,” Ronan goes on. “They all plan to have a go at her first. Then—”
“Okay.” I bite back the bile that rises in my throat. “I get it.”
He shrugs. “Crow gave us the go ahead to start finishing them off. I’ve got two fresh ones in the basement now if ye want to have a wee bit of fun with them.�
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“Can it wait until tomorrow morning?”
“Aye.” He nods.
“Grand. I’ll be back then.”
“Ye best keep a close eye on her,” Ronan adds. “You know this is going to start a war.”
There isn’t even a question in my mind when I answer. “Then it’s a war they will have.”
24
IVY
I NEVER MADE it across the bar to Crow and his wife. The minute Conor disappeared into the crowd, I found an empty table and sat down, thinking it was the safer option. Crow doesn’t seem to care for me too much, and I had no interest in pretending otherwise while I waited for Conor’s return.
I don’t know why he brought me here, but my gut tells me there’s going to be an issue, and after only a couple minutes, there is.
“Hey.”
I swivel around to find myself caught in the sights of a burly patron palming a glass of whiskey with his meaty hand.
“Hi,” I answer out of politeness.
“I’ve been wondering where you were.” His eyes rake over my body with a familiarity that sickens me. “Haven’t seen you around the last few weeks.”
I swallow down the hot humiliation threatening to choke my voice. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t seen you up on stage,” he clarifies.
I offer him a weak smile. This is exactly what I was afraid of. One night of dancing, and already, it’s starting. Everyone in this club will think they can have a go at me simply because I worked here and showed them my body.
“I don’t dance anymore,” I inform him.
The guy smiles but it isn’t at all friendly. “That ain’t how it works. When Crow hires a dancer, you’re done when he says you’re done. You must think I’m pretty stupid.”
“Not at all.” My hands squeeze into fists at my side, and I hate Conor for putting me in this position. “I’m just informing you that regardless of what you might believe, I no longer dance here.”
He cocks his head to the side, studying me. “Do you think you’re too good for me, is that it?”
“Will you please just go away,” I snap. “There are plenty of other women—"
“Look here.” He snatches my arm and drags me up out of my seat. “You lose the lip and give me a lap dance, and we’ll forget about your shitty attitude.”
“Leave me alone, asshole.” I try to shove him away, but the guy is like a brick wall, and I swear it only makes him more excited. He hauls me even closer and grabs a handful of my ass like he has that right.
“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll let you suck my dick too.”
My lips purse together with the intention of spitting in his face, but before I get the opportunity, he’s dragged backward and dropped to the floor with a single punch to the head. Conor is between us, his fist still clenched at his side while his eyes move between us in question. They aren’t the calm, soothing green I’ve come to know. Right now, they are a raging sea of pure wrath, and my immediate instinct is to step back.
The instigator scrambles to his feet, dazed, and Conor grabs him by the shirt. “What the feck do ye think you’re doing?”
“Lay off.” The guy pushes against him. “She’s a fucking dancer. I was just—”
“You were just touching what’s mine, and now ye can say your final words before I bury what’s left of your body in the Charles River.”
“Do we have a problem here?” Crow interjects, his eyes darting between the three of us.
“Fecking right we do,” Conor bites out. “This chump thought he could touch my…”
The words get caught in his throat as he looks to Crow. He stopped himself before he could call me his wife, but right now, that’s all I want him to do. I wrap my arms around my chest and wish to God he’d never brought me here tonight.
Crow inserts himself between Conor and the other guy. “Is that true? Did ye cop a feel of this girl?”
“She’s a dancer! What the fuck does it matter. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
“She’s not a dancer anymore,” Crow answers. “And even if she were, I believe ye’re well aware of the fact that’s not how we do things around here, Slick.”
His face pales, and Crow gestures to Conor. “Take him downstairs and teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget. Just make sure he’s breathing when he leaves here. Ivy, you can come to the office to visit with Mack.”
I don’t want to go, but Conor won’t even look at me. He’s hell bent on retribution and so deep in his anger that he’s already dragging the guy toward the basement.
“Come on.” Crow gestures for me. “He’ll be back soon enough.”
“So…” Mack says.
I nod in answer. We’ve been sitting in silence for the last five minutes and it’s beyond awkward. I’m not exactly in the frame of mind to visit with anyone right now but it occurs to me that I should probably make the effort.
“Thank you for the clothes,” I tell her. “Conor mentioned you picked them out.”
“Of course. It’s probably the only time I’ll ever get to shop in those teeny tiny sizes. It was fun while it lasted.”
My eyes move over her, and it doesn’t take long to understand what Crow sees in her. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark hair and a pretty face are just a couple of her best features, but I can’t find a single thing that she shouldn’t be proud of. She’s lean and strong in a way that can only be earned in a gym, and I admire her for that.
“You look amazing,” I assure her. “I wish I was in such great shape.”
She shrugs and pats her belly. “I have a weakness for Dunkies, and I pay for it. But it’s totally worth it.”
The room falls quiet again, and I start getting sucked back into my own thoughts before Mack interrupts me.
“Okay, I just have to say it,” she blurts. “I think it is so freaking cute how wrapped up in you Conor is. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Oh?” I squeak. “Really?”
She nods enthusiastically and scoots closer to me on the couch, waving her hands about as she talks. “He’s such a grumpasaurus sometimes, but you can’t help loving the guy. I’m so happy he’s finally found someone to make him act like a total caveman.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I wrap my arms around myself. “He’s not really with me by choice.”
“Oh, please.” Mack laughs. “Crow told me about your situation. Conor wouldn’t have married you if he didn’t have major feels for you.”
She seems so certain of it that I don’t want to argue, but I don’t know what to believe anymore.
Mack pats my arm. “Honey, he wouldn’t be down in that basement fucking up that guy for touching you if he didn’t care. It might seem barbaric, but that’s his way of saying he cares about you. He’ll protect you. And he damn sure won’t let anyone degrade you.”
I release a breath and laugh. “It really is a different world, huh?”
“I know it’s a lot,” she says. “Living this life is kinda nuts, believe me when I say I get that. When I first got into it, I thought I hated every one of these mafia guys. But it takes a while to see that they are the best brothers you could ever ask for. And things with you and Conor will get easier too.”
“I hope so.”
“You’ll have to come hang with me and the girls one of these days. Trust me when I say that we love our husbands, but it doesn’t mean they don’t drive us batshit crazy half the time either.”
“That would be nice,” I tell her, and I mean it.
“Good.” Mack gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Now that we’ve settled that, we can move onto the important stuff.”
“Like what?” I ask.
She walks over to Crow’s desk and wiggles a Dunkies box with a devious smile. “Like what kind of donuts are your favorite?”
25
CONOR
“HAVE ENOUGH YET, MATE?”
Slick sputters out a choked affirmative, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference. He
caved within the first five minutes of seeing Reaper’s room of torture. He started carrying on like the spineless coward he is when it came down to it.
The racket only got worse when I broke his arm. That should have been it. Crow gave me orders, but I can’t let it die that easily. I have an example to set. To him or any other maggot who thinks they can touch what’s mine.
There is no satisfaction in the cracking of his bones as I count off the fingers on his left hand one by one. It irks me that I can’t even tell him what the real crime is. Crow has me bound to silence about Ivy’s position in my life and this club, and it rubs me the wrong way. He sure as shite wouldn’t be willing to do the same if it was Mack. From the minute he claimed her, he made no bones about it to everyone who might think of toying with her.
Regardless, Ivy is alive, and that’s better than the alternative. I should be grateful, but the uncertainty of our future pricks me like a hot knife. She can’t even follow a simple request from me, which is rule number one of being a mafia wife. I don’t know how in the bleeding hell I’m going to keep our marriage a secret when I want to murder every tosser who looks her way.
I need to blow off some steam, so I beat the hell out of Slick with my bare hands. I fuck up his face and hit him in the kidneys until he’ll be pissing blood for a good week, and that’s when Ronan decides to interrupt me.
“What?” I scowl at him.
He offers Slick a cursory glance. “I think the bloke has had enough. He won’t be bothering with your missus anymore.”
“Would ye have the same sympathy for him if it were your wife?”
Ronan’s brows pinch together because I just fucked up, and he’s too smart to miss it. I may as well have printed him an invitation to the wedding with that statement. The gears in his head are turning, and he’s already figured it out, but he won’t say anything. Ronan understands better than anyone the madness a woman can impart on a man.
