Mob Bride (The O’Rourke Brotherhood #5)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Carrie

“You’re DEA.”

Shane hasn’t moved; he just stares at me. I doubt that he’s ever at a loss for words, but he just continues to stare and blink. I can’t tell if it’s still shock keeping him quiet, or he’s trying to contain his anger. His face is completely expressionless, and it makes it impossible for me to gauge, so I remain silent too. I want to believe he wouldn’t explode and do anything to me, but I won’t tempt fate by saying the wrong thing.

It takes at least a minute before he opens his mouth and starts demanding answers.

“You will tell me why you never admitted this when you had the chance. I asked you why many times, and you’ve never told me this.”

“Can you blame me? How could you possibly think I would admit this to you? I don’t want anybody in your family to know because it puts my mom in the middle of all of this. I had no idea she was your family’s doctor. She doesn’t know I work undercover. She knows I work for the DEA, but she doesn’t know what I do. She thinks I’m in a more administrative position. How she thought she could work for you when her daughter works for a federal agency is something I still need to figure out. Shane, are you going to tell your entire family?”

He stands watching me for a moment before he shakes his head.

“No, I won’t say anything. At least not yet. What are you doing involved with the Poles?”

I knew that question was coming. I have to give him enough of an answer to satisfy him. Otherwise, we’re never going to move past this.

“As you probably figured out, I’m undercover. I have been for several months. Don’t blow this for me, Shane. It’s my job, and it could be my life. Even if it’s not mine, it could be my mom’s. It could be my dad’s. You can’t tell anybody. If you do, this is going to blow up in all our faces. How am I supposed to explain to my bosses a five-month investigation all went to shit because an Irish mob leader got involved?”

Now, anger registers on Shane’s face. He takes four steps forward, forcing me to take four steps backward. I bump into the entryway table. His hand goes out to my waist, pulling me away, pulling me against his body.

God, how amazing that feels. I want to be a cat and rub myself all over him. He moves me around the piece of furniture, dropping my badge onto it, and backs me against a wall. His thigh goes between mine. The temptation to rub my pussy against him is almost all-consuming. He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head. He stares at me, and his gaze is just so fucking piercing. He has to know what it does to me when he doesn’t speak. It’s as powerful as when he demands answers from me. Hell, it’s way more powerful.

His lips land on mine, and his kiss is punishing. He doesn’t relent. He keeps my wrists in one hand while the other goes to my hip. He guides me to move along his thigh. He’s hardly the first man I’ve done this with, but I’ve never been this aroused, this close to coming so fast. My body aches. My pussy burns to get off.

Once he’s got me moving, his hand creeps up my ribs to my breast. He massages it, squeezes it. His hand slips below my shirt and then down my bra. His skin against my skin makes me moan. The kiss continues. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop, so I don’t. He pinches and twists my nipple, making me yelp, but I arch my back into it. He suspected I’m into kinky shit, but now he’s going to know.

His hand glides out from under my shirt up to my throat, his hand wrapping around it. Only his thumb and index finger put any pressure on it. It’s not breath play, and I’m not trapped by his hold. I could push away if I wanted to. That’s always the way it is with Shane. I know if I really fought to get free, he wouldn’t keep me trapped. But he knows I don’t want to go when he touches me.

“Carrie, you have way more secrets than you’re willing to share. And I know I won’t get all of them out of you today, but it’s obviously no secret we want each other.”

He releases my wrists, but I keep them above my head for a moment. Then I drop my arms, push my hips forward to continue grinding against his thigh, and put my hands behind my back, crossing my wrists. He cocks an eyebrow, and it’s about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. His free hand slides down and under my shirt again, but now he gives my other breast attention.

“Carrie, you will admit you want me just as much as I want you. You will admit there’s something between us that’s been here since the very beginning. I might not have realized it, and maybe you did, but now there’s no denying it.”

That’s the second time in a matter of seconds he’s called me Carrie. I don’t want to spoil it because I like it, so I don’t point it out.

“Shane, obviously, I can’t deny it. I’d be a liar if I did.”

As soon as those words come out of my mouth, we both freeze. It’s obvious I’m a liar. It’s obvious all I’ve done is lie up to this point. But as he watches me, his hand on my throat loosens, and his thumb glides along my jaw. It’s as though he understands why I’ve been lying. He probably does. He won’t confront me about that. It leaves so many unasked questions, which means there are so many missing answers from both of us.

There’s so much I want to ask him, but I know he can never tell me. Not on a regular day, and certainly not now that he knows I’m a federal agent. If I ask, he’s going to assume I don’t want to know it as Carrie, but as an agent clinging to the hopes that somehow I can fuck him. He’ll assume I’m asking to collect information against him to turn over.

I don’t expect answers, but I have my own burning questions.

“Why are you so involved in this? So invested in what happens to me? It goes beyond just my mom being an important person to your family. It goes beyond me just being a woman. You keep showing up at the same place and at the same time as me. You followed me to the subway station, then you were there when I came back. You followed me here. Why does it matter so much?”

Rather than answer me with words, his dexterous fingers unfasten my pants. As he pulls them wide, one hand slips down the front, and one slips down the back. His fingers dig into my ass as his other ones slide along my pussy, dipping between the lips. His grin is self-satisfied, but not quite smug.

Now there are flames dancing in his emerald eyes. He’s letting me see that yes, this is lust, but somehow there’s also something more. He must see the same thing in my eyes, because we’re both leaning into the kiss, this time as equals. But it’s not long before I submit all over again. I haven’t moved my hands from behind my back. My wrists remain crossed, but my hands open and close.

As desire burns through me—even hotter than it did a moment ago—I’m positive I’ve never wanted a man as much as I do Shane, and he’s barely touching me. Yes, his hand is on my ass, and yes, his thick fingers are digging into my cunt. It’s not like he’s sucking my tits and thrusting his dick into me. It’s so much more than that. I’d give him everything in this moment. I’d tell him my deepest, darkest secrets if he offered to fuck me.

Fuck, if we keep going like this, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

I shift my hands from behind my back to press against his chest, but his fingers move faster. He rubs my clit in perfect rhythm to make me come. I can’t stop the moan that rises from deep within my chest. I’m watching him just as he watches me when we pull away from the kiss. He doesn’t stop working my body as though he’s always possessed it.

Maybe he has. Maybe this is the way it was always supposed to be.

That is the most ridiculous bullshit, Carys. Nothing of this is meant to be. Nothing of this can come to anything.

He must know what I’m thinking because he leans in to kiss my neck right behind my ear. Then he whispers into my ear so softly it’s a secret the rest of the world won’t know. Just a brush of warm air.

“I’m going to make you come, cailín . You’re going to do it because I’m going to make you. You know as well as I do this is exactly what we both need. Not just want but need. I need to get you off, and you need me to. We need each other right now.”

“Shane, no.”

Why can’t I do anything to stop him beyond those two pathetic words? I feel my orgasm coming.

“Shane, please make me come… May I?... Please.”

I’m desperate, and I’m begging. I’m contradicting myself. I don’t even care how pathetic that must make me. I can’t stop myself. I creep so close to my orgasm, but I try to keep it at bay until he answers.

“Yes, cailín . You can come. You can come because I’m making you. Because your pussy is mine.”

Those possessive words push me over the edge. I’ve heard things like that before during dirty talk. Bartlomiej has told me as much before when he’s tried to convince me to be more intimate. But never have I felt like letting a man mean it. Never have I considered it true.

I don’t understand what’s going on at all.

But my mind blanks to just the pleasure as I come all over his fingers. When I finally relax, he pulls his fingers from my pussy and licks them.

He fucking licks them. And not quickly. Not just, I’ll clean them off. He relishes it. He taunts me with it.

I’m not to be outdone. I’ve been able to feel how hard he is since the minute our bodies touched. He was already hard for me. I felt his dick against the outside of my thigh as I rode his. Now I cup it, rubbing it slowly as my other hand reaches for his belt. He grabs my wrist and pushes it away, but he allows the one that’s still on his dick to continue rubbing.

“Carrie, this isn’t tit for tat. I didn’t get you off, so you’ll get me off. That was never the goal.”

“The goal was to possess me without letting me have any of you.”

Anger flares inside me. I feel like an idiot; regret courses through me. This time when his hand goes to my throat, he squeezes. Not enough to leave any marks, but enough that if I fight it, it’ll hurt. He’s not whispering beside my ear. There’s no soft caress this time. No, this is a brutal mobster who’s going to tell me exactly what he expects.

I’m here for that. I’m fucked-up—and as twisted as I am—I want his possessiveness. I don’t want him to let go. I’m submitting willingly. Not like how I do during kinky sex, where it’s submission just for the pleasure of what’s going to happen next. Or submission because I like to be rough.

No, this is far deeper than that.

It scares the shit out of me.

“I did not do that to get something out of you, Carys, other than an orgasm.” He snaps my name, and I don’t like it after hearing him call me Carrie so many times in one conversation. “I did that because I want you, and I care about you. God help me, but I do. This is probably the most ridiculous and dangerous choice I’ve made in my entire life. And that’s saying something, all things considered. I did it because I wanted to watch you. I wanted to push you over the edge. Yes, I wanted to know it was because of me. I wanted to own your orgasm. I want to own all the ones you have from now on. But I didn’t do it to get you to get me off. And I didn’t do it to get information from you. I didn’t do it for any other reason other than I cannot get you off my mind. I’ve wondered what it would feel like to do that almost since the night I met you. Can you guess what a sick bastard I felt like for imagining you like this when I met you so battered and bruised?”

“Well, at least I know it wasn’t all about my looks.” I try for self-deprecating humor, but it falls flat.

His hand had eased its hold, but it squeezes again. Not enough to constrict my breathing, but enough to show his dominance. Then he lets go, lowering his hand.

“I want answers, and I will get them. But I won’t ask for anything else today, beyond your safety. Jacek saw us. You can’t be here. He’ll have had you followed.”

“If that’s the case, you thought it was wise to lead him right to my door?”

“That look on his face wasn’t just surprise that anybody was there. It wasn’t just a mild observer wondering what was happening. He recognized you, Carrie. It wasn’t just me. He recognized you, too. Why is that? You don’t have to answer that question, but you know I’m thinking it. The only thing I’m going to ask of you now is that you come with me to a safe house. You cannot stay here.”

He repeats himself, and in a normal situation, I would agree with him. But how is any of this even remotely close to normal? I believe him when he says it’s about me, and it’s not just about my mom and not just a courtesy he would offer to any unprotected woman. He’s back to calling me by his pet name, and my mind quietens a decibel or two.

“There’s no way I can leave here. If I do, my handlers will know. How am I supposed to explain why I’m in some safe house they’ll either already know or can easily find out belongs to the Irish mob? I turned my tracker off the other night, but I can’t do it again. That’s not even remotely a possibility. Shane, I appreciate your offer. I appreciate you care and you want to help. But you know now I’m undercover. Leaving here isn’t an option. If I do, it’ll blow everything. My handlers will want to know why I’m at another location. Bartlomiej and Jacek will want to know why I’m not here. It opens up way more questions than just the ones you have. And not answering them is much higher stakes than anything you’re asking me.”

I watch his expression fully shutter, and it feels like a vise just tightened around my heart.

“Please, Shane, we can’t do this again. You know I want to. I think you do too. I don’t think it’s just talk. I think you mean each word you say. But it’s just not an option.”

He stares at me, but he lets go. He pulls his hands away from where they rested on my hips. His expression is full of regret. I know he’s letting me see that. He’s not being emotionally detached like he could be. He’s letting me in.

“All right, Carrie. For now, I’ll back off. Not because I want to, and not because the DEA is now involved. I’ll do it because you’re asking. But you know it can’t be as easy as me walking away. If nothing else, I’ve got to protect your parents just as much as I want to protect you.”

For some reason, that stings. And not the good kind of burn from the ache in my pussy. It stings that he would equate the protection he wants to offer to me with the same he wants to offer my parents. I guess I wanted protecting me to mean more.

That is fucked-up. That is selfish. And it’s irrational.

But it’s a visceral emotional reaction. He cups my jaw and runs his thumb against it just like he did a few moments ago.

“Carrie, I’ll protect your parents regardless of whether I want you, regardless of your job. Knowing who they are now—knowing what they mean to you—I’m doubly invested in making sure they’re safe. This isn’t just about them being Meredith and Rhys. They’re your parents, Meredith and Rhys.”

I listen to him, and I wonder if him saying they’re my parents before naming them means something significant as opposed to him naming them and tacking on they’re my parents.

Your parents, Meredith and Rhys. Not Meredith and Rhys, your parents.

I’m reading far too much into this.

And it’s like a blast of icy air when he steps away from me. It’s like he sucks every degree of heat out of me and this apartment. His expression still shows he regrets nothing can come of this. I let him see the same in my face. I know I could have an entirely blank expression just like he can. Who knows if it comes to him easily after years of training or whether it’s intuitive?

It certainly took me a lot of practice to make my face devoid of emotion. It’s a struggle now to only let it look like mild regret when what I’d really like to do is burst into tears and cling to him. But that’s not what’s going to happen.

He backs away another two steps before he turns around and walks to the door. I should stay right where I am until he closes the door behind him, then lock and bolt it. But I’m tethered to him, and I follow him like a lost little puppy, wishing he would pet me once or twice more.

His hand goes to the doorknob before he twists to look at me.

“ Cailín , this isn’t over by a long shot. Not what’s going on around us and not what’s going on between us.”

He gives me a hard, fast kiss before he opens the door. I have no opportunity to ask what that means. He’s called me it more than once. We both wait in silence, both counting to twenty before he leans his head out and counts to twenty again just like I do. Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.

If ever there was something so symbolic as the door shutting in my face. We’ve said this isn’t over yet. Maybe the door will open again. I just don’t know what will be on the other side.

It’s been two days since the shootout. Two days since I’ve seen Shane face to face. But I sense him around me. I know he’s there.

If I try to look him up, it’ll ping on my computer unless I use my secure VPN again. And that’s a risk because it takes my computer offline. I have to say I shut it down and restarted it for an update or just because I felt like it got too hot.

My handlers always frown at me. They know I’m bullshitting them when I say that, but they don’t press the issue. I could ask my mom, but that would only raise every bit of suspicion she could possibly have. It won’t help if she knows I’m here. The rest of his family probably already does. I wonder if he’s going to tell my mom or if his brothers or cousins will.

That’s been on a loop in my mind, along with a memory of the feel of his touch and the feel of touching him. The torturous bliss of it all.

But I have no choice now. I have to go to Bartlomiej. He texted me the night after the shootout. He was pissed. He wanted to know the answers, but he wanted to hear them in person. He expected me to see him the next morning. But something came up, and he said he would text me again when he was ready. He said I’d have thirty minutes to get to him; otherwise, there would be problems. I didn’t get that text until five minutes ago.

I’m walking down the street to the subway station. I can feel the eyes on me. I know Shane is somewhere nearby. It’s not paranoia when I also know Bartlomiej has men because I’ve spotted them. He doesn’t trust me anymore. He always had men follow me when we first started dating. Then he eased off and only had men as my bodyguards sometimes. He’s back to being suspicious, which tells me what kind of mood he’ll be in when I arrive. I’ve already considered what I’m going to say to handle this. I take a deep breath as I step out of the subway.

It’s no surprise Tymoteusz is waiting for me in a car. His expression tells me I’m in for Hurricane Bartek. He says nothing to me as I slide in the car. It’s not like the last time I rode with him, and we chatted about everything and anything. When we pull into the garage, he looks over at me.

“Kaja, consider everything you’re going to say. Jacek’s been in his ear ever since you ran away with Shane. One wrong word, Kaja. One wrong word.”

I nod and pull the handle open. I walk with dignity into the house, and I hear him in the living room. I’m sure Jacek is there even though I can’t hear his voice. There are a few other men in the kitchen. I’m certain there are men patrolling the backyard, just like there are men out front. Tymoteusz is following behind me at a discreet distance.

“Bartek?”

I make sure my voice wavers. He spins around in anger, and I burst into tears. I run toward him and wrap my arms around his waist, clinging to him, sobbing. He hesitates for a moment, but then wraps his arms around me and coos to me just like he did the last time I cried after Jacek beat me.

“Bartek, I was so scared you’d refuse to see me. I didn’t know if I should come anyway or whether it would make things worse. But I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was there. It was all because I was stupid and jealous and petty. I didn’t trust you. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m so sorry.”

I keep repeating that over and over again, hoping he’ll start buying what I’m selling. He tries to push me back. His hold on my shoulders is gentle. He’s not rejecting me. It’s as though he wants to see my face, but I shake my head, burrowing into his chest, squeezing his waist even tighter. I whimper, and he goes back to stroking my hair. If it were anybody else—no, if it were Shane—this would be the most soothing thing in the world. If I were listening to Shane’s heartbeat, if it was his hands holding me and caressing me, I would never be afraid of another thing in my life. I’m terrified right now.

“ Ksi??niczka , I’m here now. It’s going to be all right. We’ll talk about it.”

I rear back and let him see fear in my eyes as I shake my head. I make myself tremble, which isn’t easy because I don’t want to make it look pretend. I’ve practiced making my lower lip tremble for times exactly like this. I must be getting it right because surprise registers on Bartlomiej’s face. Then there’s a flash of anger before he looks at me with the same softness he usually does.

“Oh, Kaja, I would never hurt you. I just want to talk in private.” He leans forward to whisper in my ear. “I just want to hold you on my lap and know you’re safe. You have no idea how terrified I was.”

I nod. He slides his hand into mine. I half expect him to lead us to his bedroom, but he takes me to his office instead. Fear spikes through me again, and I hesitate as he opens the door. He looks back at me and offers me a smile.

“Sweet one, you really believe I’m going to kill you, don’t you?”

I swallow, but I don’t make a sound. I just keep looking afraid. I’m far more afraid than I want to admit because there is a good likelihood I’m not coming out of here alive. He lets go of my hand. I take a step back, but he slips his arm around me and guides me into his office. When he shuts the door, he presses me against the wall and practically devours me. But it’s not like when Shane kissed me. It doesn’t get the same natural reaction out of me.

I have to force myself to kiss him back. His kiss is possessive, but I sense something else. His hands run over me as though he’s checking to make sure I’m really here. As though he wants to make sure I’m really okay. Maybe I will survive this after all, but only if I play along. If his emotions are this intense, then they could swing in the opposite direction if I don’t do what he wants.

He pulls away and scoops me into his arms and carries me to the sofa. He sits down and cradles me against him. He says nothing. He just keeps kissing my temple and stroking my hair. I’m going to let him lead. I’m going to give him some control. I don’t want to do anything to change the tone.

“Kaja, what do you mean you were jealous? What were you doing there? Jacek told me you were spying on us.”

“I was.” I infuse remorse into my tone. “But it’s not because of whatever Jacek told you. I thought you were meeting another woman. I thought that’s why you were away for so long. That because you were with somebody else, you let what happened with Jacek happen. He believes anybody who isn’t in your family is out to get you. He believes somehow I wanted to hurt you. But all I want is to know we’re okay. I had this whole thing worked out in my head. You were going to meet some other woman, and you want to be with her. That you are with her, and I’m the one you see on the side. I don’t know if that makes sense now, but in the moment, I was so certain of it.”

“You thought I was having some illicit rendezvous at a lumberyard?”

“It was so confusing to me. I didn’t know what to believe. I was questioning myself. But again, I was so jealous. It’s never been like that before. Bartek, I’ve never felt this way before. That’s why I feel so miserable. It makes me look crazy. I am crazy.”

I let tears stream down my face again, and he wipes them away with care that surprises even me. It’s more tender than he’s ever been.

“Kaja, I’ve told you I love you. When are you going to believe that? When are you going to know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you? I wish you would believe that. What would it take? Do you want to move in? Do you want to travel with me? Do you want us to get married?”

Whoa. This is moving way too fast.

“Bartek, you know I can’t move in with you. It’s bad enough I spend nights here and you spend some at my place, too. What would our priest think if he found out? All of your men will think I’m an even bigger whore than they already do. Jacek will believe everything he’s been accusing me of. He’ll really try to kill me.”

I sniffle while I watch him. He doesn’t deny Jacek wants to kill me. He doesn’t deny what other people will think. He would move me in here against everybody else’s wishes or thoughts. Does that mean he really believes he loves me that much? Or is he so narcissistic he believes he’s untouchable? I don’t know. Maybe it’s even a combination of both. He doesn’t press the issue again about where our relationship stands. Instead, he moves on to the questions I already expected.

“Kaja, why were you carrying a gun?”

“Because I didn’t know what I was going to see. I didn’t take it to shoot her. That wasn’t it. I guess a reasonable part of me knew what I was doing was stupid and dangerous. I knew I should take some way to defend myself. I guess it was a good thing I did. I mean, I didn’t have to shoot. But it certainly got a lot more dangerous than I expected.”

I sniffle for effect. His hand on my hip tightens, but it’s not with anger. It’s as though he can protect me right now from the ghosts of that meeting.

“How did you get that gun?”

“I bought it when I moved to the city before I knew you. I knew I was going to live on my own in a neighborhood known for the Polish mob. I didn’t know what to expect.”

“I take it it’s not licensed.”

“If the cops had caught me…”

I let that thought trail off. He responds immediately.

“Nothing would have happened to you. I would have known immediately. You wouldn’t have even made it to a police station. You would be with me like this. Just where you belong.”

I nod, allowing more tears to dribble down my cheeks. He keeps wiping them away. Do they give Oscars to undercover agents? This is a recurring serial show. Maybe it’s a daytime Emmy. I wait for the next inevitable question.

“Why did you go with Shane? Jacek said he saw you with him.”

“I didn’t know who he was until after we stopped running. I guess he thought I was a weird man or something because he chased me first and knocked me to the ground.”

Before Bartek gets upset—even more upset—I rush to clarify.

“I’m positive he didn’t know who I was when he did it. He kept insisting he had to get me to safety. How could I possibly turn that down? He wasn’t shooting at anybody in the lumberyard. Nobody in the lumberyard was shooting at him. I knew whoever he was, he was a man spying on you. But he seemed like my safest bet. I didn’t know where Jacek went. I wasn’t looking in that direction. I was looking at the lumberyard. I was looking in front of me. All I wanted to do was get away, and that’s what I did.”

“Yeah, and you got in a car with him. Jacek saw all of that.” Bartek’s temper is flaring.

“I know.” I aim to sound dejected. “And that was probably just as stupid as going there in the first place. But you’re you, and I’m me. I don’t know if you can truly understand just how terrifying that was, and how all I wanted to do was survive to get to you. I know getting in that car with him meant I had just as great a chance of dying as I did getting to you. But that need to be here was so much stronger. I feel like such a fool. Can you ever forgive me? Forgive me for doubting you. Forgive me for not trusting you. Forgive me for being?—”

My face crumples again as more tears come, and I sob. He no longer looks doubtful, but he is a sociopath. I might pretend because it’s my job, but he can hide his emotions or make them appear however he wants with no thought. I’ve seen him do it. He just drops into whatever persona he believes he has to be.

“Nothing is going to happen. It’s all forgiven already. I was away from you the last two days because I was sorting out that mess. It wasn’t me avoiding you because I was angry. I was avoiding you only to keep you safe. To not have you anywhere near me after what just happened. But you’re here now. You’re with me, and I don’t want you to go anywhere. At least not for today, and I want you to stay with me tonight.”

I nod my head and lean against his chest again, but I continue to cry.

“Kaja, I just want to hold you. I won’t ask anything else of you. Just be near me. Don’t be out of my reach. At least not until morning.”