KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4) (6 page)

I wanted her. Really, desperately, wanted her. And that scared me a little.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said, taking her hand even as I pressed my lips to hers again.

“Kyle…if we’re going to get an annulment…”

“Fuck the annulment.”

She sighed against my mouth. She opened to me again and moaned as I touched a place on the roof of her mouth that seemed to have the power to make her press her hips tighter against me, making her do things with that gorgeous body that I doubt she’d ever done before. And she was already a pro at it, sending a fire rushing through my body.

I tugged at her skirt, pulling it up one painful inch at a time. When my fingers brushed the bare skin of her thigh, fireworks seemed to explode inside my head. I pulled higher, slid my hands under the light material, searching for the bottom edge of her panties, that sexy spot that announced the nearness of the source of the ultimate pleasure. But, instead of touching silky panties, I found myself sliding my fingers over bare skin, barely brushing the silky flesh of outer lips.

“Kyle!”

She tried to push my hand away, but all that material from her skirt trapped me there. And I took advantage of it, pressing my palm to her ass, as a mixture of a groan and a laugh slipped from between my lips.

“If I’d known you were going commando, I would have done this sooner!”

“I only had the one pair, and they caused a line…”

She blushed as the words slipped from between her lips. She wouldn’t look at me, her face turned to the side. I kissed her jaw and nibbled at the skin just below that first curve.

“I like this,” I said in a low, deep whisper. “I like having access to you without having to fight your fancy underwear. I like knowing that just a little lift of your skirt and I could have what I want anywhere, any time.”

She shook her head. “Please…”

“You can pretend that you don’t like it, but I know you do.” I slid my fingers over her luscious cunt lips, dipping my fingers between them as a groan and a word of protest got tangled as they came from between her lips. “I can feel how much you want me.”

“Please,” she whispered again. “We can’t. I can’t.”

“We did last night, didn’t we?” I pulled back slightly so that I could see her face, still turned to the side, even as my fingers sought out more depths, more of her, more of the moistness that told a story she couldn’t hide. “You were quite naked in my bed this morning.”

She opened her mouth, but then my finger found the swollen nib of her clit. She bit her lip so suddenly I briefly wondered if it was bleeding, then this long, deep moan slipped from her throat. I liked that reaction, and I liked the pleasure that was clearly dancing in her eyes before she closed them and the excited blush that rose over her cheeks. I pressed my finger harder against her clit, crushing it back against her pelvic bone, rolling it until she responded with a little roll of her hips.

She was so wet my finger slipped off her clit. But it wasn’t so bad because it slipped down to her tight, little entrance, sliding deep inside of her with a minimal amount of effort on my part. She stiffened slightly, pressing her back tighter against the wall. I kissed her neck, loving the feel of her pounding pulse against my lips. And then I pulled my finger out of her and slid it against her clit again, catching it between two fingers and rolling it until she looked as though she might collapse right there, straight into my arms.

“That’s good, isn’t it, baby?” I asked softly against her ear. “Has anyone ever made you come with just his fingers before?”

Her blush deepened and I chuckled, dragging my lips over her throat again, moving down into the valley between her breasts, sliding my tongue between the firm tissue there. She tasted like salt and warmth, like a sunny day at the beach. I buried my face against her throat as I continued to play with her clit, feeling the tension grow inside of her, feeling the quick movement of her breath. I knew the moment she hit her orgasm because her entire body stiffened and she made the most beautiful sound, like the highest note of a perfectly tuned piano. I stilled my fingers and held her close as she rode the waves, then I lifted her into my arms and carried her into the bedroom as a proper groom should do.

She turned away from me when I lay her on the bed, her face hidden in the pillows. I didn’t mind. We had all night to play this little game of cat and mouse. I slid her shoes off her feet before settling on the side of the bed, slipping my hands slowly over her legs as I worked my way back under her dress. She pulled her knees up, trying to protect herself from my invasion. But I just followed, stretching out behind her, pressing my face to her shoulder for a long second.

“You are my wife. Isn’t this my right?”

She didn’t answer. But the tension in her body grew, as though she thought that by stiffening every muscle in her body it would stop me from taking what I wanted. I kissed her neck, rested my hand on her hip, and stretched out behind her for a long moment, waiting for the tension to disappear. It didn’t.

What the hell was going on here? She could take me when we were both drunk, but she couldn’t take me tonight when she was sober and I was…well, not sober. But not black out drunk, either.

I started tugging at her skirt again, but the vibration of my phone against my hip pulled me away. I sat up and pulled the phone from my pocket.

Ian.

“What’s up, brother?”

“We need you home, Kyle. I’m sorry, but the Italians are going to town on us and Pops needs everyone he can get. But with Sean MIA and Killian wrapped up with Stacy and the baby, it’s kind of just you and me, you know?”

“Yeah, of course. But you realized Kevin’s just hanging around Pops’ house.”

“Pops won’t bring Kevin into this, you know that. He wants Kevin to be an artist, or whatever it is he’s trying this week.” There was clear frustration in Ian’s voice as he spoke. But then his tone softened as he said, “But maybe that’s for the best. Things are really crazy right now and the fewer of us involved is probably better.”

“Probably.” I glanced over my shoulder at Amelia. “I’ll fly out as soon as I can get myself together.”

“I’ve already sent the jet. It should be waiting for you in less than an hour.”

Then it was serious. Ian rarely sent the company jet for me unless I begged. He liked to have me beg for things.

I disconnected the call and stood, grabbing my bag off the valet sitting in the corner.

“Go change your clothes. We’re flying to Boston.”

Amelia sat up slowly. “We?”

I glanced back at her. “Yeah. Until we can arrange an annulment, you’re my wife, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then you come home with me.” I turned to face her, crossing my arms over my chest. “Unless you’re prepared to go down to the courthouse the moment they open and file for a divorce.”

She shook her head. “No divorce.”

“Then get changed.”

I started shoving clothes into my bag, but realized she hadn’t moved as I was almost finished.

“What?”

“I don’t have anything here to change into. Just that other dress…”

I cursed under my breath, amused that it brought another blush to her full cheeks.

“Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand, “we’ll stop by your place so you can pack. Can’t have you meet the family wearing that.”

She snatched up her shoes as I dragged her out of the room, her in one hand and my bag in the other. I glanced around to make sure I had everything, dropped the room key on the bar—Mickey could deal with that later—and headed out.

This was going to be interesting. Imagine me coming home with a wife. Pops would shit bricks, and I could already see the I-told-you-so’s from Ian and Killian. Yeah. This was definitely going to be interesting.

Amelia

I could almost feel the derision coming from Kyle as I unlocked the flimsy door to my tiny efficiency apartment. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes scanned the place slowly, taking in the second-hand furniture and the lack of electronic equipment. I didn’t even have a television because it would have cost more than it was worth to hook it up for cable.

I ducked into the bathroom and quickly slipped into a pair of jeans and a light t-shirt, tugging the bobby pins from my hair and replacing them with a simple elastic band as I pulled my hair into a ponytail. I was back to that girl who’d come here seeking a quick way to make a lot of money, the sad girl who never seemed to get ahead even with the generous tips waitressing two jobs provided. It was depressing.

I shoved my little bit of makeup and my toiletries into a bag, then returned to the main part of the apartment to shove jeans and t-shirts, a few nice blouses, a pair of slacks, and my one good dress into a worn, pathetically used duffle bag. Again, Kyle didn’t say a word, but I could feel his judgment in the way he watched me move.

“Just a week’s worth,” he said. “Anything more you might need, we’ll buy in Boston.”

I nodded, but I didn’t take anything out of the bag. I wanted
my
things. I didn’t want to feel like I was dependent on him for more than I already was.

The last thing I grabbed was a photograph of my family that was tucked into a book in my nightstand. Shoving it into my shoulder bag, I turned to Kyle.

“Ready.”

He held out his hand, and I thought I might blush again. The memory of his touch was still there, this pulsing in my clit and this sense of fullness inside of me…I didn’t know what to do with it. I was overwhelmed with shame and excitement all at the same time. It was as if I’d done something wrong, but it was so much fun I wanted to do it again.

And again and again…

I walked toward him but didn’t take his hand. He slid it over my shoulder as he followed me out the door, resting his hand against the small of my back and that was worse, somehow. There was a rented Cadillac Escalade waiting for us at the curb. It was late, an hour or two until dawn. I should have been exhausted, but I was energized with a nervousness that made my hands shake and my knees knock. Kyle helped me into the passenger seat before slinging my bag into the back with his and climbing behind the wheel. It wasn’t but a few minutes before we pulled through the gates of a private airstrip just outside the city.

“You have a jet?”

“It belongs to Callahan Industries, my father’s side business.”

I just nodded, my eyes drawn to the slim lines of the jet and the model-perfect people standing beside the steps leading into the interior. They must have been the pilot and the rest of the crew. There were two men, both impossibly handsome and well coifed despite the hour, and a woman who filled out her skimpy uniform the way a woman was supposed to fill out a tight, little outfit like that. She made me feel frumpy in my jeans.

Kyle helped me out of the car, his eyes moving over my face for a long second.

“I’m sorry for the rush. Hopefully things will settle down in a day or two.”

I wanted to say that things could rush for as long as they needed to. This situation—whatever it was—had saved me from having to do something I knew was coming, but was hoping I could avoid. I knew he’d expect me to sleep with him. But I…I barely knew him. How could I give him something I hadn’t given the boy I dated for three years in high school, or the man I was briefly engaged to after a two-year relationship in college?

But, again, if his touch could do what it did back there in the hotel, how could I deny myself that kind of pleasure? Did it all feel that way? Was it all that delicious, that mind blowing? Or was it just something about
his
touch, on
this
night, in
this
situation?

I was afraid of the answer. And I was afraid I’d never feel that way again.

Kyle slid his arm around me and led the way to the plane. He tossed his keys to one of the men—they all seemed to know him and they greeted him with respect—gesturing back to the car.

“It’s a rental. Make sure it’s taken care of. And our bags are in the back.”

“Of course, Mr. Callahan,” the man said, moving immediately to do as he was told.

“I’ll never get used to that,” he whispered against my ear, as he turned me and pushed me gently toward the steps that would allow us access to the interior of the plane.

I walked up them slowly, feeling judged, as though they knew I didn’t belong here. But then Kyle was behind me again, his arm sliding around my waist as he guided me to a long, couch-like spot toward the front of the plane.

“Have you ever flown before?”

I nodded, my eyes moving slowly over the carpet and the leather upholstery and the wood accents that filled the plane’s cabin. I’d flown many times before, but I’d never thought I would fly on a private jet again.

Kyle reached around me and secured the seatbelt to my waist before doing the same for himself. Then he leaned close and nuzzled my neck.

“Once we get going, we’ll have a couple of hours to fill.”

“We should probably sleep.”

He nodded. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of time for that, too.”

Dread built in my chest. So much for assuming I was out of the woods.

The flight attendant came aboard behind us, a bright smile on her lips that revealed perfect teeth that must have cost her parents a fortune at some point.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Kyle straightened a little. “Do you want a little something before we take off?”

I hesitated. I didn’t drink very often. But this situation seemed to scream for a little oblivion.

Kyle didn’t wait for me to make up my mind.

“Why don’t you bring us both one of those Irish coffees you make so well, Samantha?”

She smiled, tilting her head ever so slightly before quickly heading off to the back of the plane where a tiny kitchen was hidden.

“You know their names.”

“My father taught us that it’s good business to be respectful to those who work under us. He taught us to learn their names and to be as polite as we can without letting them think we’re soft. It’s a fine line, he told us, but he taught us how to navigate it.”

“Your father’s a smart man.”

Kyle nodded. “Pops is…he’s not above making the occasional mistake, but he’s a good man and he’s never failed to let all six of us know how much he loves us, even those of us who were adopted.”

“Six kids? You mentioned you had siblings, but you never mentioned you had so many.”

“Yeah. Killian, Sean, Ian, me, Kevin, and Stacy.”

“How many are adopted?”

“Four. Only Killian and Sean are biological. But Abigail made sure that we understood that that didn’t matter.”

“Why do you call her Abigail? Why not call her mom?”

“Because I had a mom and she wasn’t that great,” he said, pulling away from me a little. “I didn’t want to equate that woman with Abigail in my mind or in any other way.”

There was anger in his voice. And, deep down, I could hear the hurt of a little boy, too. Whatever that woman did to him must have been something awful.

I touched his hand, and he immediately intertwined his fingers with mine, giving my hand a little squeeze.

“You said I told you about my biological mother,” he said after a moment. “What did I say?”

I shook my head. “Not a lot. Just that you had another mother before Abigail came to see you in juvie. You said that she gave you options when you thought you didn’t have any. Said that if you’d had to go back to the streets you probably would have died.”

He was quiet for a long minute. “That’s funny,” he finally said, “because I never talk about that part of my life.”

“I told you,” I said, sliding my hand over the back of his, “we had a connection the other night. We both felt it.”

He glanced at me, but he didn’t say anything else. Then, of course, the flight attendant chose that moment to return with our Irish coffees. Kyle slipped his hand away from mine and settled back, sipping at the coffee and exchanging small talk with the flight attendant and then the pilot as he boarded the plane. It was as if that dark cloud hadn’t been there, as though the depth of our conversation had never really existed. He was acting almost as if he didn’t want to admit that he’d ever let anyone in, even the tiniest bit. And maybe that was true. Maybe he was embarrassed by what he’d said to me the night we got married. And that made me feel like a real fool for being the one who stole that little peek into his soul.

The flight attendant collected our cups and we got under way. I turned sideways so I could watch the ground race away as we rose into the dark sky. A part of me wished we were headed to Oregon, going back to the security of the world I once was a part of. But that world was gone now. There was never going to be a homecoming for me ever again.

Kyle unhooked my seatbelt the moment we were at cruising altitude, his hand slipping under the bottom edge of my shirt as he did. I closed my eyes even as he pulled me back into him, his hand sliding further up over my ribs, his fingertips sneaking under the bottom of my bra.

“Where were we?” he whispered against my ear.

“We’re not exactly alone here, Kyle.”

“They know how to make themselves scarce.”

I started to protest again, but he pulled my jaw around and took the words from my tongue. I couldn’t resist his kiss. It was like some sort of drug. With that first touch, I could feel myself melting against him, remembering how good his touch was and wanting it again and again, over and over. He touched me in places I’d never been touched. And, while that might seem like a given, I wasn’t as much of a prude as everyone thought I was. I’d been kissed. Just not the way Kyle kissed me. It was…I couldn’t even come up with words that described the way he made me feel when he touched me like this.

His hand continued to slide under my shirt, slipping over my belly, up along my side. I turned into him, and he pressed his finger under the band at the back of my bra, pulling it apart with more skill than I would have imagined from a man. But he was something of a womanizer. And then his hand was cupping my breast, my nipple hard against his palm, and my thoughts just disappeared. I melted as his mouth moved down my throat. He pulled my t-shirt up and out of his way, running his tongue softly around my nipple, his breath creating a cool breeze that felt like electricity against my damp skin. I didn’t think it could get any better, but then he drew my nipple between his teeth and nibbled until I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Beautiful,” he sighed. “You’re so beautiful.”

He kissed me hard on the mouth again, a kiss that was lacking all the gentleness of his earlier kisses. This one meant business. It was a kiss that made demands. He pushed me back against the couch, the weight of his body both reassuring and frightening as he nibbled at my throat before returning his attention to my breasts. And then he was working his way down my belly, his lips grazing my skin as his fingers began to work the top button of my jeans.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was about to lose my virginity thirty-thousand feet up in the air. I couldn’t do that.

“Kyle—”

I ran my hand over the top of his head, pushing him back a little as I tried to sit up.

“Don’t ask me to stop.”

“I can’t. Not like this.”

“Like what?” He kissed my neck again, tugging at my shirt in an effort to pull it completely off.

“That flight attendant…”

“Sam? She’s knows how to disappear. I told you. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a woman on this plane.”

That wasn’t a great way to convince me. I didn’t want to know about the succession of girls who’d come before me or to think about the succession of women who would come after.

He must have felt me stiffen because he pulled back and smoothed the hair out of my face.

“You’re really uncomfortable with this?”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“The thing is, I’m not the kind of guy who can just turn it off, just like that. And you…you’re my wife.” He studied my face with a strange sort of determination in his eyes. “I think you owe me a little something.”

“Do I?”

“I gave you a lovely little bit of pleasure back at the hotel, right?” He ran his finger along my jaw as I turned my head away, already burning with a shameful blush. “Don’t you think I deserve a little relief, too?”

“Kyle, please…”

“You show me a little love and I’ll back off.”

He pulled back so suddenly that I nearly fell off the little couch. I sat up, so busy readjusting my clothes that I almost missed what he was doing. But then he took my hand and drew me close to him, kissing me roughly before he pushed me to my knees. That’s when I realized his pants were unzipped.

I started to shake my head, but he had my ponytail wrapped around his hand and he was tugging me toward him. I was scared, but there was this part of me that was kind of excited. It felt so wrong, but so exhilarating all at the same time. As much as I didn’t want to do it, I felt this tension building deep down in my belly that couldn’t be denied.