KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2) (4 page)

If I told her now why I avoided going home six years ago, she would probably run for the hills. Literally. It was wrong. I knew that, but I couldn’t help how I felt.

I stepped back.

“I should go.”

“Killian…”

I didn’t even look back. If I did, I wasn’t sure I could make myself leave her ever again.

Stacy

I watched him go, turning and watching through the kitchen window as he crossed the street to the building that looked down on this one. He had a room there, a rented room that he probably paid more for than he should have. This was an exclusive neighborhood filled with young professionals who lived here more for the address than the accommodations. The apartments were much too small and the parking was ridiculous, but it was an up-and-coming neighborhood that looked good on party invitations and mailing lists. Killian could probably rent a three-bedroom house in Boston for what he was paying for that one room, but he insisted on living there for as long as Brian insisted he watch over me.

I could still feel the heat of his fingers on my skin. I’d have thought it would send chills of disgust through my body, but it didn’t. It was actually kind of nice. Had it really been that long since I’d been touched with that kind of affection?

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him feel the same pain I felt when Davis was killed.

He wasn’t there. He’d been sitting outside my apartment for at least a week before Davis was killed, but that one night he wasn’t there. Why? Where had he been?

There seemed to be only one answer.

Brian didn’t like Davis, and Brian’s way of taking care of people he didn’t like was pretty clear.

Had Brian asked Killian to kill Davis so that I wouldn’t marry him?

It seemed simplistic, but I knew Brian didn’t like Davis. And I knew he was capable of things that most people would never imagine themselves doing. And Killian was just like Brian.

Was it possible?

I’d been running it all over in my head ever since Davis’ funeral. Killian stood at my side, my hand tucked into his, telling me everything would be okay. He would take care of me. Wasn’t that convenient? Why was he there? Why did he seem to always be there? There was something not right about Killian’s vigilance. And I…I couldn’t just sit back and let everyone I loved die. I couldn’t live like this anymore. I had to be proactive for once in my life.

I was going to make Killian pay for what he’d done.

The police wouldn’t do anything. Brian had been running around free for thirty years despite the criminal activity he used MCorp to hide. This…I would have to stoop to their level to get my revenge. And what better revenge than to take out Brian’s first born son?

***

The dream was intense. Davis was walking alone down an alley and a man came out of the shadows, his face hidden by the hood of his sweatshirt. Davis held up his hands, but the man didn’t want his money. He fired five bullets directly into his chest.

Overkill.

Then he laughed.

I woke with a start, sweat pouring down my face. I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I closed my eyes, and I saw Davis the way he’d been that night, lying in that cold hospital room, naked and exposed to the world, those ugly bullet wounds in his chest the only deformity on his otherwise perfectly healthy body. But those ugly wounds were enough to take the vitality away from him, to remove the things that had made him Davis.

I jumped out of bed, reaching the toilet just in time to lose what little I’d eaten of my dinner the night before. When I caught my breath, I climbed into the shower and let the cool water take some of the sting from my memories. I hated this, hated the memories, hated the grief that never seemed to let go. I hated living with the reality that Davis would still be alive if he hadn’t had the bad luck of loving me.

It was early when I was dressed and ready for work. I stepped out into the living room, thinking about the project I’d begun at the office the day before. Killian, like a stray cat that always turns up at the worst times, was in the kitchen, watching the coffee filling the pot.

“Morning.”

“You’re like a bad penny.”

He smiled that crooked smile that I bet could get almost any girl into bed. I wondered how much persuasion it would take to get my new boss to get naked with him. Probably not much. The hard part would be convincing her to break up with him the night before he finally committed to something more than being Brian’s henchman.

But I thought I could do it.

“How do you get into my apartment, anyway?”

“Spare key.”

I glared at him. “You stole my keys?”

“No. There was a spare in that drawer when you moved in,” he said, pointing to the drawer where I kept my silverware. “I just took it without telling you.”

“You stole it.”

“How am I supposed to protect you if I can’t get into the apartment whenever I want to?”

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. It’s been six months since…since Davis. If someone was coming after me, they would have tried before now.”

“You don’t know these people, Stacy.”

“Do you? Do you know who’s after me?”

Killian shrugged. “Pops has a lot of enemies.”

“No kidding. But I suppose that comes hand-in-hand with being a criminal.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he poured two cups of coffee and handed me one.

We repeated the same commute we’d taken the day before. I didn’t have to tell him to stay outside this time. He wandered over to the same bench as we approached the front of the building, sighing as he sat as though he’d just finished a long, hard run or something. I glared at him again, wishing he’d go away. He just smiled, waving me off with the movement of two fingers.

Jackass.

The office was busy, the low hum of many voices speaking at once filling the large room. I went to my desk, turning on the computer and checking my interoffice emails before pulling up the document I’d been working on the day before. They wanted a dozen possible tag lines for a company that sold security systems. I had four so far.

“How’s it going?”

Sara was wearing a pants suit today, the high waist on the slacks hugging her impossibly narrow hips. She was the kind of woman I used to watch when I was in high school and wish I could be.

“Great.”

She inclined her head as she came around my desk to see what I had.

“We’ll need all twelve by noon.”

“Okay.”

She gave me a look that suggested she didn’t think I could manage. I tried to ignore it.

“So, I was talking to Killian last night.”

“Killian?”

“My brother.”

Sara’s eyes brightened. “The hunk downstairs?”

“I think he’d be interested in going out with you. Maybe you could go talk to him at lunch time.”

Her smile was almost priceless. “Yeah?”

“He said you were beautiful.”

Suddenly work didn’t seem to matter anymore. Sara went away, almost floating as she retreated through the room. At least that got her off my back for a while.

I worked on the tag lines for a few minutes, then called up a web page I’d been looking at the day before. “Two Men Found Dead in Local Warehouse,” it said. It was from the
Boston Herald
.

People were dying all around Brian. There was some sort of war going on between the Irish and the Italians. I didn’t understand it—didn’t really want to—but it opened a window of possibility that I’d been looking for.

While Brian was busy with his little war, I could contact someone I knew was connected to the Italians and see if he might be interested in doing me a favor.

Killian was going to regret ever crossing me.

Killian

“Don’t you get bored sitting out here all day?”

I looked up from a video I was watching on my phone, smiling at the pretty face of Stacy’s boss. I turned off the video and slid the phone into my back pocket as I stood.

“I don’t sit here all day.”

“You’re here in the morning and here in the evening. You and your sister must be close.”

“She might disagree.”

“Does she have trouble getting home alone?”

I laughed. “No. But we live in the same area, so it’s easier if we commute together.”

“So you work in this area?”

I shrugged, not really committing myself to anything.

“What do you do?”

“Public relations.”

Sara’s eyes brightened. “Then you and your sister are both writers?”

I shrugged. “I think Stacy is the better writer.”

“That’s a kind thing to say.” She touched my arm. “There’s a lot to be said about a man who cares so much about his sister.”

She was coming on to me, and I couldn’t say that I didn’t like it. She was a sexy woman, what with her gorgeous hazel eyes and that model’s figure. Months ago, I might have jumped at the opportunity to take a woman like her into my bed. But not now.

“I was wondering if I could take you to lunch,” she said, her hand sliding slowly up over my biceps.

“That’s generous, but I have plans.”

“Really?” She pushed out her bottom lip in a big, seductive pout. “Plans can be changed, can’t they?”

I glanced up at the building, trying to come up with a better excuse that would shut her down without hurting her feelings. It wasn’t that I couldn’t leave. I could find Stacy anywhere with the software Ian put on my phone, and I was pretty sure she was safe at work. But I wasn’t really interested in having a relationship with someone she worked with. Too many complications.

“I really should keep my appointment.”

She stuck her lip out again, but then moved closer to me, moving her hand from my arm to my chest, becoming a little more personal than our minute-long conversation really allowed.

“Dinner, then?”

“I—”

“Here,” she reached around and took my phone from my back pocket and quickly opened the phone app. That’ll teach me to put a lock on my phone. She called her own phone and then winked at me. “Now we have each other’s number.”

“Perfect.”

She smiled again, that gorgeous smile that made my balls tighten. “Call me.”

I watched her walk away. I was human. I was single. I was allowed to enjoy the sight of a beautiful ass moving in tight, silky slacks. And it was a wonderful sight.

***

“You need a life.”

“I have a life.”

“Following me around twenty-four seven isn’t a life.” Stacy gestured around herself, indicating the other people sharing this particular train car with us. “They all have lives. They all go to jobs and then go home to loved ones. They date and get married and have babies. That’s what you should be doing.”

“I will. Someday.”

“When?”

“When I find the woman I can see that sort of future with.”

“How are you going to find her if you aren’t going out?”

I glared at her, words I didn’t want to say sitting on the tip of my tongue. She looked up at me, light dancing in her golden-brown eyes despite the dim light of the train.

“Go out. Have a life.”

“Who do you suggest I go out with?”

“Sara. I know she asked you to lunch and you turned her down. She punished me for it by standing behind me all day, watching me work.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just go out with her.”

“Why her?”

“Because she’s the first person who’s shown interest since you came to New York.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Aren’t we the Casanova? Do you think all women just swoon when they see you coming?”

“I’ve never had trouble finding company.”

“Talk about ego.”

“Jealous?”

Her eyes widened. She stared at me, her jaw suddenly tight. “I wouldn’t care if you slept with the whole cast of
Girls.
Why would it bother me?”

But it was pretty clear that she was annoyed by the idea. And that made something inside of me come to life, a little spark of hope that shouldn’t have been there…let alone given a new bit of life.

I watched her walk into her building a while later, then retreated back to my room. I paced a little, restless without something to keep me occupied. I missed the work at MCorp, but that wasn’t it. I just…I would have rather been over at Stacy’s. Arguing with her was better than listening to my own thoughts.

There was a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard. It would be nice to find a little oblivion, but I hadn’t had a drink in six months. No, that wasn’t an option.

I paced a while longer, then pulled out my phone. What the hell? Whom would it hurt?

***

She showed up in a short skirt and a thin blouse, looking ripe for picking. I didn’t say a word. I just pulled her into the room and pressed her up against the wall, biting her throat as my hands found their way under her blouse. She giggled; this little sound that was filled with as much humor as it was desire. Her blouse came off easily, her bra so flimsy that I didn’t have to remove it to expose her perky nipples. They tasted like heaven, the moans that came from her lips as I nibbled them even more delicious.

It’d been almost a year since I was last with a woman. One-night stands had lost their allure, becoming more of a tiresome act than the adventure they’d been when I was in college. But the idea of committing to the kind of women I tended to be attracted to in these situations wasn’t ideal. These women were flighty, less than reliable. I wanted someone funny and entertaining and bright and easy to talk to. Someone who wanted the same things I did and who would be happy with a moderate existence. These women wanted excitement. They wanted instant gratification.

Not my style.

But I’d missed the pleasure that came with having a beautiful woman in my bed.

I picked Sara up and carried her to the bed, dropping her in the center with a squeak of the bedsprings. She looked a little startled, but then that smile that she’d been so easy with earlier in the day came back as I grabbed the bottom edge of her skirt and yanked. Her legs were long and thin, perfectly tan. Delightful. And those hips were narrow, the kind I could hold on to and touch my fingertips across her lower belly. So thin, but she was also tall and sturdy. Capable.

I pulled a condom out of a box in the nightstand that I kept there more out of habit than anything else, sliding it over my hard cock as Sara watched, her tongue moving slowly over her bottom lip. She didn’t seem too concerned about how much time we were taking on foreplay. Maybe flirting in front of her building this morning had been enough for her. I knelt on the bed and grabbed those narrow hips, flipping her over. She climbed up on her knees, as if she knew exactly what I was looking for. I slid inside of her, quick and easy, closing my eyes as I buried myself to the hilt. This was what I wanted. This was what I needed. A little release, a little pleasure.

I moved quickly, thrusting hard against her perfect ass. She made noises, little grunts with each thrust that were almost distracting. I closed my eyes, an image I once tried to fight coming to mind. I didn’t fight it today. It was getting too hard to fight my feelings, too hard to pretend I didn’t feel the way I did. I might never be able to make my fantasies come true, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t indulge them when there was little chance it would ever hurt anyone.

No one needed to know.

Sara reached back and grabbed my thigh, her nails, long and sharp, cutting into my flesh. I pounded harder, and she began to scream, pleasure dancing on each exclamation like she’d never been fucked like this. I had a feeling that wasn’t true, but I let her pretend whatever she wanted. I came hard, that image still in my head, that fantasy still playing itself out as I filled the reservoir in the head of the condom. When I was done, I pulled away, tossing the condom into a trashcan before collapsing against the pillows. Sara immediately twisted around, her pretty mouth swallowing my cock, licking up the little bit of cum that dribbled from my head. I pressed my fingers into her hair, encouraging her to take all she could handle. She hummed, and the vibrations moved through my cock with enough energy to encourage it to remain rigid.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” she mumbled, as she worked her way slowly up the length of my body.

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

She smiled, as she snuck a look at me from under her impressive eyelashes. “I knew the moment I saw you that I wanted to get you into bed.”

“Yeah?”

“I knew you’d be good.”

“How did you know that?”

“Just look at you. And that cock…” She sighed. “You’d be surprised how many good-looking guys in this city have teeny, tiny little cocks.”

I laughed. “I thought size didn’t matter.”

She gave me a look that suggested I might be insane. “It does matter, baby. Why do you think all the dildos these sex websites sell are so big? A girl needs to be filled properly to even hope to reach an orgasm.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

She reached over to the nightstand and rolled another condom over my cock. Then she climbed onto my lap, guiding me inside of her. I watched as she rolled her head back on her neck and sighed, her eyes closed, and her tongue moving slowly over her lips. She knew what she was doing; she knew what she wanted. She moved slowly, a finger pressed against her clit as she worked slowly up to an orgasm. It was almost like watching porn, as if I wasn’t really involved, just an observer. But then her cunt began to twitch, her muscles quivering, as her orgasm came upon her, that quiver pulling at my cock until I had to respond or I’d lose my mind.

I sat up, grabbing her hips and pulling her harder against me. She opened her eyes, a crazed light shining in them. She began to move in less of a roll and more of a thrust, riding my cock like a cowgirl on a bucking bull. She cried out as her orgasm overcame her, as I held her tight and thrust my cock deeper and deeper inside of her. I buried my mouth against her breasts as my own—my second—orgasm overcame me.

We collapsed against the bed when it was done. She laughed, rolling onto her side to look at me.

“You’re pretty amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

She climbed off the bed and started to dress. I watched, admiring the way her body moved, especially when she bent over.

“You’re not going to buy me dinner?”

She glanced at me. “You don’t want that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve met guys like you before. You only called me because you can’t have what you really want.”

“And what’s that?”

She turned away and pulled on her blouse, buttoning it slowly.

“How many brothers would sit in front of a business office every day just to watch over their grown sister? How many brothers would care enough to even walk their sister to work every morning?”

“She’s my sister. It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She stepped into her shoes, then came back, leaning close to kiss me gently. “Call me when you get over her.”

She disappeared before I could say anything. But what was there to say?

Stacy was my sister. I knew that in my head.

My heart, unfortunately, kept forgetting.