Page 7 of Hard Irish Mobster

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He might as well have detonated an atomic bomb over my head. The aftershocks send my heart into a stammering stutter of chaotic twitching.

I make a small choking sound as I try to swallow my hysterical laughter, but I botch the job and nearly fall off my stilettos laughing.

It’s that or fall over from sudden heart failure. “One. Million. Dollars.” This time I know better than to ask if he’s kidding. He’s serious and he’s looking at me like I’m worth every penny. I’m not sure how to read into that, so I press my hand against my forehead. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I lean against the desk in front of me for support and try to wrap my brain around that insane amount of money.

“Might as well have said a billion. There’s no way I can pay all that back in one lifetime.”

Sylan patiently pats me on the back while holding one of my hands in his, caressing his thumb over my knuckles. The distraction helps, and I pull myself out of shock before it can fully set in.

“What kind of criminal are you anyway? I’m chocking here. Shouldn’t you be helping me on the way or something? Have Scarface over there roll my dead body up in a carpet and toss me with the fishes.”

His chuckle is low and long and I’m not too sure if it’s one of warning or genuine amusement. I don’t take any chances. I step out of his reach and shuck off the jacket that smells divine, lamenting the loss of warmth as soon as the cool air of the room hits my exposed arms. I can’t look weak and frail at a time like this, and I immediately regret the kiss we shared. I toss the jacket over the back of the nearest chair and pace the hardwood floor in front of his desk.

Scarface speaks up from where he’s leaning against the wall like some stone-chiseled golem waiting for his next kidnapping or whatever these people do for kicks and giggles when someone wrongs them. I’m pretty sure I’m the exception to the rule and hold no false misconception otherwise.

In the low light I can see he has lost his leather coat, and I take a small satisfaction in knowing I was right back at the diner. He did have a small arsenal under that thing. At least I haven’t lost all my ability in reading people. But apparently, I have a blind spot when it comes to Sy.

Sylan, I mentally correct my error, trying to distance myself from the fire he stirs in me and the way my body is still reacting to his nearness. I look down and want to groan from embarrassment. Fucking nipples are on high alert waiting for all the promises that damn kiss worked up in me.

My gaze hasn’t left Scarface. I spot two guns holstered under each arm and a third is clipped to his side like he’s ready for an invasion. He chin-nods to the man beside me. “I think someone has a big imagination.”

What? I like crime thrillers and mobs stories. How the hell would I know I’d be stepping into one?

I cock my head, feeling better that the fear I felt a few minutes ago gives way to my usual sarcasm. I can’t seem to help myself. I can see Sally shaking her head at me right this minute if she were here.

“Yeah well, at least I don’t have to shop for clothing by the yard, buster,” I say flippantly. Instead of earning me the wrath I’m expecting from both men, I get another laugh from Sylan and a wink from Scarface.

I narrow my eyes and glare back.

“Enough,” Sylan warns raising a hand for silence. His sinfully deep voice vibrates over my body and strokes along my libido like a live current. And he’s not even touching me and there’s nothing I can do about how the walls of my pussy clench and hot liquid spills to wet the strip of my underwear, so I ignore it the best I can.

I pick up my pacing right where I left off. “This is utter bullshit. Like I don’t have enough problems.” I pause and nail Sylan with a glare. “This is not my problem. He dumped me before I had a chance to learn how to say daddy. Paying a debt like that…no thank you. I’d like to go home now.” It’s worth a shot so I eye him uneasily for a long moment, and I can tell the second his shields snap into place. True, I couldn’t see them. Not like some faceted crystal wall I could reach out and run a finger over. No, the slight change is subtle like the shift in temperature that has me shivering.

Was he mad at me?

“Do you have a need to call someone daddy, mo chroí? That’s twice you’ve said as much so I wonder.” He trails his hand over my arm, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his warm touch.

Holy hell. It’s as though he’s stroked my most intimate of places, but I shove that sudden urge to fall into this man’s arms and I purse my lips instead. “I don’t know. Are you offering for the position?”

Okay, so that wasn’t what I had planned on saying. I had wanted to say no and leave it at that. But my brain seems to have stepped out for a smoke and some coffee at the moment. Neither of which I happen to enjoy. Either way, this conversation just turned from ‘hello, how are you?’ to ‘I’m going to let you go down on me anytime anywhere.’

His gorgeous face turns dark and the growl I hear coming from him might as well be our mating call, because a hot flash runs through me, and I’m a step closer to him before I know what I’m doing.

The mobster looks stunned for all of a second before he leans in and instinct has my hands flat over his taut chest, and I can feel the beady hardness of his nipples beneath my palms. God help me, I want to rip his shirt off and flick my tongue over them. Repeatedly.

“Careful what you ask for, Katriona.”

Have mercy. My name on his lips in that husked, deep tone makes me do a full body shiver. I knew his light Irish brogue mixed with modern American would break through during sexy times.

I let the delightful sound settle over me like a warm blanket. I wonder what he would sound like in bed whispering dirty promises in my ear all the while telling me to swallow every last drop of his cum as he pumps his hard length past my lips.

I’m no virgin, but I can’t fall back on a wealth of experience either. In his bed, I know he could teach me all the ways he likes to be pleasured and things about my own body I probably don’t know.

I swallow thickly at the thought. Shit. How was I not supposed to react to that?

“Sorry. It’s been a long night.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. Honestly, I never had the need to call anyone daddy, but I might now. This time I manage to keep that thought tucked away and my mouth shut.

“I promise we’ll be talking about this later, mo chroi.”


Tags: Penelope Wylde Dark