Page 83 of Mob Knight

Dillan slips his phone back into his pocket and rests his forearms on the table as our gazes meet. “What do you want to do now, Cormac?”

“I guess there isn’t much to do until I speak to Joey and find out what Enrique meant about her family tree.”

“What’re you going to do if you don’t like what you find? You know I ran the background check on her, but there wasn’t a whole lot to know beyond where she grew up and what universities she went to until she got here a few years ago. Not all the record keeping is that great in the part of Mexico she’s from.”

“I know there were no red flags with her, and I don’t think there are any now, but I’ll talk to her when we’re alone. Then we’ll go from there. Thank you guys for coming so fast.”

I know my thanks aren’t necessary for my brother and cousins, but good manners dictate I say as much, and my appreciation is always genuine. People may say Seamus and I have the best manners—even if we supposedly have the shortest temper—but we had the same manners drilled into us as everybody else. We were just the ones no one ever had to tell to write and send thank you cards.

We were also the ones who stayed out of trouble the longest, but that’s because we’re the shyest in the group and never felt the need to lead the charge. We’re not followers, but we’re also smart enough to survey the scene before diving in.

“Do you guys want to stay for dinner? Shane, I know you need to get home to Carys, but what about the rest of you? I’m sure Mom’ll have enough for everybody. Do you want to have the girls come over too?”

Since our three sets of parents still have open-door policies, it would be no surprise if everybody showed up even though it’s not my parents’ night to host Sunday dinner.

“You don’t think meeting the entire family in one day won’t be too much for Jocelyn after the scare she had?”

“Maybe. I’ll ask her what she wants. We can go from there.”

We stayed for dinner, and the wives came over just before my dad and uncles returned. Joey took everything in stride, but she’s nearly asleep as we drive home.

Home.

My place.

Our place.

That’s how I’d like to think of it. I’ve gone over to her apartment a few times, but we mostly wind up at my house in Boerum Hills. It’s a quiet area in Brooklyn; hardly what most people would expect for a mobster bachelor. Only Finn lived in the city—Soho—for the urban life. Seamus and Shane lived in East Harlem, but that neighborhood’s vibe isn’t the same as the main part of Manhattan. Shane was already in Queens, and Dillan was in Brooklyn, too.

We prefer the relative solitude rather than the constant noise and lights in Manhattan. Members of the other families lived in Manhattan before marrying and moving back to the two neighborhoods we grew up in. Dillan’s house sits on the corner where they meet. From the outside looking in, it probably appears like a massive syndicate compound with that many individual residences all next door to each other.

“Cailín, we’re home.”

Her eyes flutter open, and she offers me a sleepy smile. It’s sexy as fuck, but she’s exhausted. As much as I want to discuss her family now that we’re at the house, it won’t be productive. She knows to wait for me to open her door, so I walk around to her side. Even though we’re in my garage, she knows I won’t take any chances.

“Do you want to go straight to bed, little one?”

She nods, but she perks up. I know that expression. We haven’t spent a night together without having sex before we fall asleep. We’re yanking each other’s clothes off before we even make it to the bedroom. It won’t be the first time we have to pick up a trail of clothes in the morning. Our foreplay is the kissing we share as I back her into the room.

Tonight, we go slow. It’s entirely vanilla. I’ve discovered I enjoy it as much as our kinky sex. It’d been years—college—since I had vanilla. Once I discovered what I was into, I looked for partners who wanted the same. No woman I was with once I got into BDSM tempted me. Even when things weren’t fully kinky, there was always an element of power exchange. Right now, Joey and I are equals, and it’s erotic as hell.

We’re breathless and spent when we’re done—with this round. We haven’t made it through the night without a couple rounds. Joey snuggles into my chest as I spoon her. We’re both asleep within minutes, but my last thought before I doze off is that my cum is inside her. It brands her as mine.

MINE.

God help anyone who takes her from me.

Chapter Nineteen

Joey

Yesterday was a day I could’ve lived without. I’m not loving the conversation Cormac and I are having right now any more than I did my terrified sprint into the public library. I have to tread lightly because I don’t know how much I can share.

“Why would Enrique tell me to ask you about your family tree?”

I knew that question was coming once he told me he spoke to Enrique at his parents’ house. I fight the urge to fidget. This is when I should admit everything. But I don’t know where things are going with Cormac. I want to tell him I love him, and I think that’s what he wanted to say yesterday, but we weren’t alone. Love isn’t enough to convince me to share my family tree or history. If Cormac and I aren’t planning a definite future together, then it isn’t worth saying anything. But if we are planning a future together, and I don’t tell him, it’ll all go up in a roaring blaze. It’d be way worse than a puff of smoke.

“I’m certain he knows what part of Mexico I’m from. It’s impossible not to know how the cartels work there. Some of mymom’s side of the family has been there for six generations, and my dad’s side has been there even longer.”

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