Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
I can't think straight with Conall in this room.
He's standing behind Dad's wheelchair, arms crossed, and every time I look up from these charts, his eyes are on me. All I can think about is two nights ago—his mouth on my neck, his hands everywhere, the way he made me come so hard I saw stars.
Focus. The family's waiting.
"So here's what I'm thinking," I start, trying to keep my voice steady. "Five years to go completely legitimate. Shipping, construction, real estate—all clean money. No more looking over our shoulders."
Conall shifts and Christ, the way he moves reminds me of how he felt on top of me, inside me, making me beg for more.
I flip to the next slide before I completely lose it.
"These numbers work," Cillian says, leaning forward. "What do we need upfront?"
"Forty million from existing accounts. We start with the shipping company since it's mostly legal already." I move away from the projector, needing distance from Conall's stare. It's like he's undressing me with his eyes.
"So we just throw away everything Dad built?" Eamon's not buying it.
"We're not throwing anything away. We're making it better." I turn to face him, grateful for something else to focus on besides thoughts of Conall's tongue between my legs. "The old way brings too much heat. We can't keep living like this."
Mum nods. "What about the money side of things?"
"We phase it out slowly. Use the legitimate businesses to clean what's left, then we're done with all that."
Dad makes a sound from his chair—might be approval. Hard to tell since the stroke.
The door opens and Conall walks in with a folder. My nipples go hard against my blouse just seeing him move. He notices everything, his eyes dropping to my chest before meeting mine with that look that says he wants to devour me.
Fuck me, not now.
"Got some news from our contacts," he says, and even his voice does things to me.
He comes closer and I smell his cologne—the same scent all over my sheets after he spent the night. My body clenches remembering how good he felt.
"What kind of news?" I manage to ask.
Our fingers brush when he hands me the folder. The touch goes straight between my legs. He strokes his thumb across my knuckles and I have to bite my lip to keep quiet.
I open the folder with shaking hands. "Shit. Federal corruption probe started yesterday. Three councilmen, two judges, Commissioner Walsh."
The room goes cold fast.
"How bad?" Eamon asks.
"Bad enough to bury us if we're not smart about it." I move to the head of the table, trying to get some authority back when all I want is to climb Conall like a tree. "How long do we have?"
"Six months tops," Conall says. "They're building cases slowly."
God, his voice. Makes me remember how he groaned my name when he came, how he whispered dirty things in my ear.
"So what do we do?" Mum asks, cutting through my very inappropriate thoughts.
This is it. My moment.
"We use this mess to our advantage," I say, clicking to a new slide. "We help them nail the small players, keep our major stuff protected, and use all the chaos to get rid of our competition."
Conall moves closer to see the charts better. His body heat hits my back and when he leans over the table, his chest brushes my shoulder. His lips are right by my ear.
"You're fucking brilliant," he whispers so only I can hear.
The curse word and his breath on my skin nearly make my knees give out. I grip the table edge so hard my knuckles go white.
"While everyone else is running scared," I continue, my voice breathier than it should be, "we quietly move our money around."
"Smart," Cillian says. "Take over while they're distracted."
"Exactly." I try to step away from Conall but he follows me, staying close enough that I can feel how hard he is through his pants.
"The Torrino family's got three guys facing charges," I say, my voice catching as Conall's hand settles on my hip, thumb stroking through my skirt. "The Murphy crew just lost their police protection. We move into their territory—legally."
Eamon's watching us now, eyebrows raised. Cillian looks amused. Even Mum seems interested in whatever's happening between me and Conall.
"What about muscle?" Eamon asks. "Construction sites need protection."
"Private security companies." I click to the next slide, way too aware of Conall's fingers tracing patterns on my hip. "All licensed and insured. Completely above board."
Those fingers were inside me two nights ago, making me fall apart.
"That'll cost," Mum observes with a knowing smile.
"Less than prison would," I shoot back, my voice hitching as Conall's hand slides lower.
"When do we start?" Dad rasps from his chair.
I flip slides, trying to ignore how Conall's breathing has changed, how his other hand grips the table. "Next month. We move fast while everyone's distracted."
"Money?" Cillian asks, definitely noticing our little show now.
"Bank loans. Our credit's perfect." I gesture at the projections and Conall's hand finally drops away, leaving me cold and wanting.
The tension between us is so thick you could cut it. Eamon's openly staring now. Even Dad seems to notice something different.
"Any security issues?" Conall asks, his voice strained.
"Not if we're careful." I turn to face him and immediately regret it. The hunger in his eyes makes me want to push him down on this table and ride him until we both forget our names. "The probe's looking at current stuff, not restructuring."
We stare at each other and I know everyone can see it—how badly we want each other, how hard it is to keep our hands off each other.
"Any other questions?" I ask the room, though what I really want to ask Conall is when he's going to fuck me again.
"What happens when people try to screw us over?" Eamon presses, clearly sensing something. "Legitimate businesses get screwed too."
"Lawyers. Lawsuits. We use the system instead of fighting it." I force myself to look away from Conall's mouth. "We become the people who own everything."
"Need connections for that," Mum says, definitely amused now.
"We're already building them. Charity stuff, political donations, all that social climbing."
Dad makes another approving noise.
"All in favor?" I call out.
Every hand goes up.
"Starting Monday then," I announce.
The family files out but Conall stays. The second we're alone, he moves behind my chair, hands gripping the back.
"That was incredible," he says, voice rough.
"The presentation?"
"Watching you run this room while I wanted to bend you over this table and fuck you until you couldn't think straight." His breath hits my neck. "Do you have any idea how hard I was the whole time?"
I lean back against him, feeling exactly how hard. "Why don't you show me?"
He laughs, dark and dirty. "Not here. Your place. Right fucking now."
"What are you going to do to me?"
He spins my chair around, caging me in. "Everything you've been thinking about since I walked in here."
"That's a lot."
"Good. I've got all night to make you scream."
I grab my stuff with shaking hands. Five years to go legitimate. Five years to change everything.
But first, Conall needs to fuck me before I lose my damn mind.
Everything's changing. Including how much I need him inside me right now.