Conall (5 page)

Mouth dry, the words she thought she should say, needed to say, simply would not come. He was right and they both knew it. From the moment she stepped into his office earlier today, she’d wanted him. Had felt the inexplicable pull of desire for a man that was so far out of her league that she should be ashamed of herself.
Say something
, her mind screamed. But what was she going to say in response to his panty-melting words? He had her and they both knew it.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked as he licked his lips, his eyes dropping down to her own.

Another low whimper escaped from her and she wanted to do everything he’d just said. Her clothes felt restrictive and her body was heating from the inside out. Wetness filled her panties as her channel slicked with need, with desire to have him inside of her, claiming her body.

“Friday at seven. Be ready,” Conall said as he suddenly released her. Losing her balance, she stumbled slightly as he walked past her. Picking up his coat as he made his way to the front door, she could do nothing but stare at his retreating form. Never looking back at her, he opened her front door and exited her apartment.

Looking over at the clock on the wall near the kitchen, she noticed that it had only been twenty minutes since he’d first walked through her door. How could one man turn her inside out in such a short time? Closing her eyes, she could still feel the contours of his body as it had pressed against hers. The driving need to feel the touch of his lips on hers still lingered. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.

“Why didn’t he kiss me?” she said aloud into the empty room. Regret filled her as she thought back to the moment he’d released her and walked away. “Oh fuck, I think I’m in trouble.”

Chapter Four

Wednesday had dawned bright in Boston and Conall couldn't appreciate the world around him. His day had been long, it was late, and he was tired. After dealing with all the shit that came his way due to running his own business, while keeping his hands in the mix with his brothers at the same time, he needed to just relax and chill for five minutes.

His thoughts immediately turned to the woman who’d filled his thoughts all day. Tatiana. Why the hell had he even gone to her house last night? That was a rookie move and he knew it had the potential to backfire. Badly. Nothing good would come from pursuing her. Getting involved with a woman like her could only lead to more trouble. She would never understand what it was like to be him and he wasn’t sure he was up to teaching her.

His outer shell may seem polished and perfectly put together, but inside was another story. Darkness filled his soul. Everything that was good about him died so long ago. Vileness filled every inch of his veins, pumping through his body like oily sludge. If he inhaled deep enough, he could smell the rotting stench of his soul. His brothers were the only people who truly understood how much he struggled with who he was. And even they didn’t fully understand the depths of who he had become over the years. It was hard work to keep up this facade. That’s why he knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that going to her house had been a mistake.

But something about her had called to him. Whether it was her spirit or her bravery in approaching him, he wasn’t sure. And even though he knew it was foolish to want her the way he did, he wasn’t willing to back down. Not yet. Standing so close to her last night had made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. It felt good. And like a moth to flame, he couldn’t resist her.

Looking down at his hands resting in his lap, his legs spread out in his custom-made car, he sighed. More than one man had died by his hands, and there would be more in the coming months. Shame for what he had done in the past, or would need to do in the future was not something he felt. It was a necessary part of his life and he would never pretend otherwise. The public face he showed people was necessary. The carefree, single, eligible bachelor the citizens of Beantown believed served a purpose.

No one would ever think that he, Conall O’Shea, savvy businessman, who donated to numerous charities, dated some of the most beautiful women in the world, and brother to local bad boy gone politician, was capable of snuffing out a man’s life without blinking an eye.

He was a bastard through and through. Not by birth, but certainly by deed. He had no business pursuing someone like her. She would never be able to understand the way he lived his life. The reasons why he did the things he did. Her soul seemed so pure. Which is why it bothered the hell out of him as to why he was drawn to her. It didn’t make sense.

A smirk lifted his lips into a semblance of a smile. Then again, her acceptance of his life was a non-factor. There was no way in hell he was looking for a wife, so it didn’t matter. At the moment, she was simply someone who intrigued him. For now, that would have to do.

Unbidden, a picture of her from last night entered his mind. The curve of her hips begged for his hands to grab them within his strong grip as he plunged his thick cock inside of her over and over again. Seeing her nipples pebble under her shirt as she stood in front of him, had made his mouth water with the need to suckle her. What would she taste like? Would she moan and whimper with need as he used his mouth to pleasure her? And those lips of hers beckoned him to kiss them, almost pleaded with him to slowly savor the feel of them pressed against his. They looked so deliciously plump and juicy. He could picture her mouth wrapped around his thick shaft as she sucked and licked him to completion.

Oh yes, Ms. Tatiana Barbosa definitely intrigued him. Friday couldn’t come soon enough. She accused him of being overbearing and rude. If only she knew. It took everything in him to “suggest” a Friday date rather than dragging her back to her bedroom and fucking her brains out. But that would have been going too far and he was not that type of man. No, he wanted her pliant, willing, and craving for the feel of him.

Looking at his phone, he had a sudden desire to speak with her. Dialing her number, he heard it ring a few times before she picked up.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. How are you tonight?” he said with all the confidence of a man who knew his place in the world.

“Who’s me? Wait, with that arrogant tone, it can only be one man. How are you, Conall?” she asked in a dry tone.

“Thinking about you,” he said with a smile in his voice. “I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Well, was it all you’d hoped for?”

Laughing out loud at her snarky tone that never failed to humor him, he decided to be honest. “Sweetheart, you’re more than I ever expected and I couldn’t be more pleased. Are you ready for Friday? I hope you don’t have any plans for the rest of the weekend.”

“Why? What do you have planned for me,” she asked.

“The question is, what don’t I have planned,” he responded in a gruff tone. If he told her all the things he wanted to do to her, she would run in the opposite direction.

“Conall. Why do you say these things?” Her breathy tone came through the phone.

“Because I want you to know exactly how I feel. I want you, Tatiana. Don’t ask me why I feel this way. I just do,” he growled. “I don’t think I can wait until Friday. It’s too far away. I want to see you tonight. I’m going to stop by.”

“I’m not at home. I’m at this new bar called Irish with some friends. It’s just two more days. Plus, you said you had things you needed to get done. Worry about that first.”

Closing his eyes for a second, he knew she was right, but it didn’t make his desire to see her any less. If she was at Irish, he could at least find out who she was with and have someone keep an eye on her. It was as if the woman had gotten into his blood and he hadn’t even kissed her yet. “Every time I talk to you, I’m more intrigued. You are a unique woman, Tatiana Barbosa.” As he said the words, he dropped his head back on the headrest as his car sped down the interstate. Fuck, he was turning into a pussy.

“More than you know,” she whispered.

“You do know that once I get you, I’m going to do my damnedest to make you never want to leave,” he said with confidence.

Her laughter carried through the phone and he couldn’t help but smile, “Maybe you’ll be the one begging to stay, Conall,” she said in return. For a split second he thought to deny her claim, but thought better of it.

Seeing that they were getting closer to the place he was meeting with some of his international contacts, he moved to end the call. “Well, I’ll let you go hang out. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” she replied as if she couldn’t help herself.

“I’ll call you what I want. Plus, you know you like it,” he said with a grin.

“You are too much. Fine. Goodnight, Conall.”

“Goodnight, sweetness.” The words escaped before he had a moment to think about them, but he wasn’t concerned.

She ended the call and the silence on the phone was all he heard for a few seconds.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe he was acting like such a sap. This wasn’t like him at all. Especially for a woman he’d just met.

It was unfortunate that they’d been introduced under such unusual circumstances. Her inquiry on her brother’s behalf could be a problem. Disposing of a witness was one thing. Getting rid of the younger brother to a woman he wanted to be balls deep inside was another matter altogether. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Then again, worse things had happened. Looking down at his phone again, he dialed a number he knew by heart. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“Yes, Boss,” Dillon said in a voice filled with respect.

Glancing out the window again, he noticed a man and woman kissing on the side of the street. Looked like they had just come out of Sabatino’s, an Italian restaurant he patronized quite often himself. The owners were local boys who had made it good. Arturo and Angelo were good people, even if they were Italian and from Pawtucket, that shithole city in Rhode Island. The only good part of that city was the minor league baseball team. Maybe that’s where he should take Tatiana to eat this Friday. Speaking of Tatiana, he needed to make sure he stayed on the forefront of her mind. He would do something for her tomorrow.

Getting back to the conversation at hand, he spoke to his guy. “I think we may have a problem. A little birdie may be talking about what happened on the other side of town. I need you to find out all you can about someone named Tony Barbosa. He has a sister named Tatiana Barbosa. Tony claims he’s afraid of the O’Shea brothers. Find out what he knows and who he’s talking to.”

“Do you need me to take care of it once I find what we need to know?” While Conall was tempted to say yes, he held back.

“No, no action. Just let me know what you find out.” He knew that his orders would be carried out. Someone running their mouth about him, or his brothers, could not be tolerated nor overlooked. It had to be handled. Of course, he wasn’t sure why he cared if Tatiana’s brother was taken care of or not. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was no one’s fault. Clearly, he was caught up in something he shouldn’t be.

What he and his brothers were doing was too important to leave to chance. Loose ends often led to mistakes being made and loose lips told tales that eventually would get people caught up. Sure, killing her brother might ruin his chances with Tatiana, the first woman to capture his full attention in years. Logically, he knew this. But it was a price he was willing to pay in order to fulfill his and his brothers’ plans. Nothing, and no one, would come between him and his goals.

Continuing the conversation with Dillon, he put Tony and Tatiana out of his mind, at least for the moment. “So, the cleanup crew has taken care of everything?”

“Yes, Boss. I’m watching things play out right now. Some of our guys were here with the flashing lights the other night to make sure things were handled the right way. This is just some follow-up shit, but I’m making sure it all goes according to plan.”

Low laughter escaped. “Good. Good. I'll have to make sure I thank my brother. All right, I’ve arrived at the spot. Call the guys, let them know that I should only be an hour. Stay back and keep watch on the building while I’m inside.”

“You got it, Boss.”

“I’ll hit you up tomorrow.” Ending the call, he took a deep breath and exited the vehicle. It was time to get some business done.

* * * * *

Conall walked into his office building the next day with a determined step. An angry scowl covered his face as he blazed a trail through the lobby of his building. Those intense green eyes of his shot fire as he pressed the numbers on his phone. Finally getting up to the floor where his company, Blackbird Consulting, was situated, he stormed toward his corner office. The look on his face warned anyone who even thought of talking to him, to save it for another day. Today was not the day to bring trivial shit to him. Those passing him in the hallway could almost feel the anger coming off of him in waves. If it were the middle of the summer and he was the black tar covering the streets, it would be wafting off of him, blurring the vision of anyone who looked at him.

“Margorie, I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances,” he barked.

“Yes, sir. But what about—” she began.

“Under any circumstances,” he almost yelled, but tempered his tone at the last minute. It wasn’t Margorie who was at fault. Oh no. This recent clusterfuck could only be laid at the feet of one man. Paddy O’Shea. His da.

“Yes, sir,” Margorie responded just as he walked into his office. Slamming the door with such force the vibration of it was felt throughout the entire suite.

Not usually one to show visible frustration around his employees or at the office, this was a unique situation for him to contend with. The unmitigated gall of Old Man O’Shea had him seething and frothing at the mouth. The man could not see a gift if it bit him in the arse. The message they’d given to him had been clear. Retire. Walk away. Leave the city of Boston and never return.

“Fuck!” It was only nine o’clock on a Thursday morning, but he needed a fucking drink. “Does he think this is a fucking game?” he ground out, his strong voice carrying out into the large space that was his office.