CHAPTER 21
Samia
No way could I have prepared for a whirlwind surprise wedding.
But somehow, that man of mine—husband now—pulled it off without one issue.
Kian swept me into a beautiful fantasy and my feet haven’t touched the floor yet. He made sure I had the perfect dress—a selection brought by a local designer. He’d given her my measurements weeks previous, so each dress I tried on fitted like a glove. I fell in love when I saw the lace tulle with an A-line neckline. And when my mom saw me in it, she burst into tears.
Oh, yeah, Kian hadn’t missed a step.
He’d surprised me with my parents in all their finery. Dad walked me out to the balcony to give me away, and that’s when another surprise was waiting, with several of my friends gussied up, including Raene and her rocker husband. Kian’s family and several of his friends were also there. Kian had sworn everyone to secrecy.
I think, at the moment I saw my father standing so handsome in his Tuxedo, waiting to escort me to the man, who had all but railroaded me into marriage, how he smiled and kissed my forehead and told me he was overjoyed and relieved to see me happy again, that I knew finally. I realized Kian had shattered the defenses I didn’t know were keeping me intact. He’d scaled walls and then built them around us both. When my dad asked if I was sure, I immediately said yes. At that moment, privately shared with the other man I loved so much, any doubts vanished. After that, I’d been so eager to get to Kian and become his wife.
All the vows went by in a flash, and now, as I stare at the thin white gold wedding band sitting nestled alongside the engagement ring as they sparkle in the early dawn rising, I’m reminded of how much this has all felt like a dream these past few weeks.
I don’t know who Kian had to sell his soul to obtain the perfect honeymoon, which included a private jet to bring us here, but we’ve been sunning it up and relaxing in the Maldives for just over two weeks. We return home today.
It’s as though there are no limits for Kian. The things that man can do are truly extraordinary. And the way he’s spoiled me would earn him all the husband accolades.
While lounging in my thoughts, strapping arms slip around my waist, and the mouth I’ve been attacking every hour touches my pulse point. I lean into Kian’s half-naked body. If only we could stay here forever in our private water villa, only feet away from the unspoiled beach. A girl could seriously get used to having a personal butler. I cover his hand with mine and stroke over the matching wedding band he wears, getting a little thrill, as I always do when I see the white gold on his finger.
He’s my husband. Wow! I’m still not used to saying that.
Half a year ago, I wasn’t in a relationship, and now I have a whole grown-ass, bossy husband who adores me. There’s plenty to thank my selective memory loss for. It opened me up to new things. Perhaps, if it weren’t for the accident, dating Kian wouldn’t have been a good fit. But by some stroke of fate, those events happened, and I found myself in a new setting where I had the chance to get to know him.
“Are you okay?”
I nuzzle his shoulder. For a redhead, he catches the sun easily and bakes to the most gorgeous tan, but he hasn’t freckled. If the Irish had Celtic gods, Kian surely would be one of them. He’s too hot to be a mere mortal.
“Are you going to ask me that every day?”
He likes to do a health check obsessively. If I dare say I’m hot (hello, we’re in a hot country!) or a little tired (we’ve walked for miles, my cab-taking legs aren’t used to it), he goes into doctor mode and insists I need 48 hours in bed. He also suggests using his cock as a form of medicine, so he’s not altogether medically ethical. My husband.
“Until we die, baby.” He rasps, and I melt into a sticky puddle as I turn in his arms and nestle into his chest.
“Do we have to go home?”
“Nope, we can stay here forever, if that’s what you want.”
He means it.
Whatever I ask for, Kian says I can have. Knowing he’d do anything for me is a stimulating cocktail of power.
“I wish.” I groan, squeezing my arms around him. His palms drop to my bikini bottom, pushing down into the material until he cups my ass cheeks. “Because I was dragged away on a spontaneous honeymoon.”
“I told you I was planning it.” he pinches me.
“I’m already behind on work.” I go on. “Besides, I thought you were joking, Kian! Who hires a designer and caterers and gets a celebrant?”
“I do.”
He’s so proud of his deception. He hasn’t even tried to apologize for how he practically dragged me down the aisle. That’s not who Kian is. I’m completely enamored with that part of him.
“We have four hours before we head to the airport.” He tells me suggestively, his mouth nuzzling my ear. Kian interrupts my thoughts. He’s a pro at that. I was always more into daydreaming than playing with other kids. I’m good at my job because I work from home. But now Kian has crashed into my life; he brings me into the present more than ever, and I’m adjusting slowly and loving what we’re creating together.
“Oh, yeah?” I play along, walking my fingertips up his torso over all the lovely dips and valleys of muscle on his body. He’s a work of art, and I’ve brazenly worshipped every inch of him.
In an instant, I’m filled with energy, and the need to abuse my husband’s grateful body is thrumming in me. Dropping to my knees, I’m halfway through pulling at his shorts when Kian hisses. “Not on the hard floor, Samia. Your knees will bruise.”
He’s so sweet that I can’t resist. I keep tugging until he’s free in my hands.
“Please, I need it.” I share, stroking, and I see how my words trigger him. Kian can’t resist when I ask for something. It’s like he can’t bear to say no, and I’ve taken advantage of that, which makes me happy.
“Fine, suck it then.” He sighs, but his eyes flash with heat as he looks down at me, and he helps by holding the base of his cock out for me like a lollipop. “Go on, open wide. You got on your knees for me, dreamgirl, so I need to feel how tight and hot the back of your throat is.”
Oh, crap. I’ve done it now.
I’m not a confident blowjob giver. Despite trying all the thumb-pinching tricks, my gag reflex remains unchanged, but Kian enjoys my mouth, and I’m always eager to please him.
I know he’s on my hook when he curses and grunts, throwing his hips forward, so impatient that he needs to get as deep as I’ll let him go.
“Fuck. You’re such a gorgeous tease. Suck harder. Go on, wrap those sinful lips tighter, and pull the come out of me.”
Kian’s voice is husky and challenging as I amp up my efforts. His guttural groans spur me on, and when he comes, I take everything he gives me in a swallow.
“My perfect little wife.” He rasps, looking down at me, and then strokes a thumb over my lower lip, and his praise makes me indescribably bashful. My body temperature spikes further when he collects me from the floor and crushes a kiss on my mouth, hot enough to liquify my bones.
Kian has never left me wanting, and when he places me on the balcony wall overlooking the ocean and spreads my knees apart, I know what he has in mind, and I pant with expectation.
Three orgasms later, we barely made it to the plane before departure.
It was sad to leave our little love nest, but there’s a new sense of peace to return to the energetic streets of Manhattan. There’s no place like home; now I’m at home as a married woman.
It’s so wild how effortless it is to fit into married life.
How well we work together as a couple.
No woman will ever say it’s easy living with a man, not if that man is bossy personified and does things to make her life easier, but in a way that makes her want to kick his shins until he’s bruised.
That is Kian for me.
He may come across as overbearing, but deep down, he is the sweetest and most caring man, dedicated to my needs and happiness with unwavering focus.
But somehow, despite his domineering ways of taking care of me, I love being with him. Some days, I’m like a puppy waiting for him to get home so I can jump into his lap and demand his attention. As soon as he comes through the door, he hangs his jacket and heads straight for me with a single-minded focus that would derail the most headstrong women.
It’s so surreal being married to him.
I’m Samia MacNamara now, and each time I change my name on something official, I get caught off guard with a giggle fit. However, his underhanded means to put a ring on my finger, or how Kian twisted my words for his gain, I can’t say I hate being married to him. Quite the opposite.
He isn’t the husband I thought I might want one day. But Kian is the husband I need, and I’m fast becoming addicted to him.
Three blissful weeks slip into four, and we celebrate our one-month married-iversary by having dinner with Ronan and Catherine.
“What’s the rush?” I ask when he buckles me into his Maybach barely an hour after we’ve finished dessert at the restaurant. “That was rude to your parents, Kian. Is there somewhere we need to be?”
Across the console, he glances my way as he starts the engine. Traffic outside the Thai restaurant is horrendous. If we get home before midnight, it’ll be a miracle. I told Kian that catching a cab was better, but he prefers to drive. His stare says everything that needs to be said. My stomach knows before my brain catches on because it whips arousal all over.
He’s rushing us home to have the wildest sex for our month anniversary.
“Kian.” I laugh, feeling an excited tickle in my throat as he pulls the car into the traffic. We only move a few inches before we’re stalled again. “Tell me you didn’t drag us away from an enjoyable evening with your parents for sex.”
He grunts his manly noise. “You reached for my hand throughout dinner, Samia.”
“How is that a reason?”
“You needing to touch me is reason enough. You’re lucky I didn’t drag you into the bathroom to fuck you. Instead, we’re going home so I can spread you out on the bed and have my dessert.”
“You had chocolate cake, remember?” I remind him breathlessly, because there’s nothing more I want in this world than to sit on Kian’s face.
“I’m gonna fuck that bratty mouth, dreamgirl.”
Oh goodie. I can’t wait.
Seeing as I was teasing my husband without knowing I was teasing him, this time, I place my hand high on his thigh and stroke up and down his leg until he growls my name. When we pulled into the underground parking, his touch was featherlight, and he crowded me into the side of the car once he came around to open my door. As he drops his head, I reach up to touch his hair as our mouths connect.
“Take me inside and have your dessert, Kian.”
The invitation is a red rag to a stampeding bull because he latches onto my hand and all but tugs me to the private elevator.
But the sexual anticipation dims when we’re surprised by people on our floor. Several people in cop uniforms, to be exact.
So many worrying scenarios flit through my mind.
Something must have happened to a family member, and they’re here to break the news. Kian squeezes my hand, anger and regret flaring from his eyes. He keeps me pressed close to him.
“Say nothing, baby.” He says in a low tone. And then he faces the upholders of the law. Standing out from the crowd is a slender Latina woman, exuding an air of authority with her stoic expression and donning a traditional navy pantsuit, her official badge prominently on her belt.
“Detective Massa, this is a private floor.”
Kian knows who she is.
I hear a thumbnail tap metal, and my eyes follow.
“This gives me permission to go wherever I choose.” The detective informs in an icy voice, touching her badge. The wall of officers in uniform standing behind her titter.
“What do you want?”
I want to know what is happening, but again, Kian tells me to remain quiet by tightening his hand around mine.
Whatever it is, it’s not good. All the X-rated scenes I’ve been playing in my head only minutes previously evaporate into smoke, leaving behind a sticky sense of dread.
Not that Kian looks nervous at all. He wears his usual smirk as we head toward our front door.
“We’d like to come in and have a look around.”
“Unless you have a warrant, my wife and I are going inside to enjoy the rest of our night.”
The dread doubles in my throat because anyone knows you don’t taunt the police, no matter who you are.
“As a matter of fact.” The detective announces and produces a neatly folded piece of paper from her inside jacket, handing it to Kian. “Now, do you want to unlock the door, or shall we?”
“You’re wasting your fucking time.” Kian snaps, pressing the keypad to unlock the apartment with the six-digit combination. It’s my birthday.
“What’s going on?” I finally ask, and the detective’s shrewd eyes turn my way like lasers as she smiles. “What’s the purpose of the search warrant? We’ve been out to dinner all night.”
“Mrs. MacNamara…”
“You don’t fucking talk to my wife.” Interjects Kian in a rolling growl, moving his body to shield me from the detective’s attention. “Stop wasting time, get on with it. You won’t find shit. This is just adding to your harassment.”
“You call it harassment, MacNamara. The law calls it investigating an anonymous tipoff.”
It doesn’t take a genius to work out; it concerns Kian’s less-than-stellar import business, but he shut the search warrant before I could read it. What matters is the sight of the police officers pouring into our home and rifling through everything immediately.
I feel sick to my stomach watching the scene like a terrible invasion of privacy.
“Kian, what’s this all about?”
He must hear the upset in my voice because he immediately turns to me and cups my face, bringing him closer while our home is being searched from top to bottom. The detective instructs her officers with authority, like they’re hoping to find dead bodies strewn all over, but I’m only focused on Kian.
“Don’t worry, baby. This’ll be done soon. Can you hold it together for a while? And be strong because she’s going to arrest me.”
“What?” my eyelids open wider, and my earlier panic gallops in my chest.
“Shhh.” He kisses my lips gently, and I want to cry. How could our night have taken such a drastic turn so quickly? “It’s okay. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. They have their protocol, and that means taking me in for questioning.”
“No! They can’t do that. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Kian smiles against my lips, “My loyal dreamgirl, I love you, you know that? This won’t last long, and we can pick up our celebration. What did I promise you this morning? That you wouldn’t go to sleep tonight without making you come at least five times. I still have three to go, baby.”
Any other time, I would have laughed shyly and acted on my feelings, but I was too scared and confused to react to the promise he’d given me this morning after shower sex. Kian kisses me again to reassure me as I cling to his jacket. He places his phone between our bodies and starts texting Ethan. His best friend and lawyer. The text says, ‘SOS. Apartment.’ And he adds a police emoji. He then slips his phone into my coat pocket. “Hold on to this for me, baby.”
I can only assume it’s so the police can’t search it.
Kian is more brilliant than anyone. I can’t imagine he would keep anything incriminating on his phone, but I bob my head and then observe as the police tear through our home, leaving things discarded without care.
It’s while Kian is barking at them to leave my office alone, that they can’t take anything that belongs to me, when the door opens, and there stands Ethan in jeans and a leather jacket; his hair is messy like he only finger combed it, or someone else was in the process of combing their hands through it when he got the text from Kian. Thank the heavens he lives in our building several floors down.
In school, Ethan was much of a party boy like Kian. But there’s nothing of his former self as he frames the doorway. His sharp eyes assess everything going on in seconds. He’s every bit the well-paid lawyer to the rich and famous.
He smiles, rubbing my arm briefly before striding across the room to stand beside Kian, where he questions the detective.
What strikes me as I watch everything unfold in a frighteningly detailed manner is that this is not the first time something like this has happened. Considering how collected he is, it’s improbable that this is Kian’s first experience with a search warrant.
I knew Kian’s business was sketchy, but now I understand how it’s going to screw with our personal lives.
As he said, once the search was completed, and it seemed as if they didn’t find so much as a jar of coffee out of date, the detective reads Kian his rights, telling him he was being arrested under the suspicion of receiving and distributing stolen items.
Kian doesn’t flinch as a cop handcuffs him. He makes eye contact with me. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Don’t count on it.” The detective smirks as she strides to the door while two officers escort Kian.
“I’ll meet you there,” Ethan says.
I don’t know how either of them is being so fucking calm when I feel like a tornado has swept through my life, and we’re waiting to see what part of Oz we’ll be dropped off in.
“Don’t worry,” Ethan assures me with a smile. “This isn’t our first rodeo.”
“Well, it’s mine, and I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
“Not yet.” He says quietly and indicates to the exiting police officers. Once it’s only Ethan and me, his fa?ade of calmness drops. “We don’t speak in front of cops. Remember that, Samia. They’ll use anything they can. They have no concrete evidence on Kian, and there was nothing for them to find here. He pays enough to a guy who works on the dark web to keep his name out of things. Detective Massa is ambitious as fuck and wants her captain stripes, so she’s tried to aim for Kian more than once. All she has is whispers and informants who know fuck all. Just business rivals trying to cut Kian out of the game.”
“So, he’s been arrested before?”
“Several times. He gets questioned and released without charge. It’s an annoying dance, but it happens because he’s on their radar. Listen, I’ll have a crew come by to tidy things up here, and I’ll call when I know something.” He turns to leave, but I’m quickly on his heels.
“I’m coming with you.”
Ethan frowns. “Kian wants you to stay at home.”
“Tough shit. I just watched my husband being arrested after our home was raided. Do you know how fraught my nerves are right now, Ethan?”
“It’s gonna be fine.”
“I don’t know that. And now I’m furious Kian has been taken away, so I go with you or call for a car. Either way, I’ll see you there.”
He sighs and scrapes a hand through his hair. “I told Kian this shit would come back to bite him on the ass.”
“What shit?”
“Nothing. Okay, let’s go. But remember, say nothing to the cops, no matter how friendly they might be with you. And when Kian knows you’re at the police precinct, it was all your idea, or he’ll take my fucking head off my shoulders.”
I can’t even laugh at his joke as I lock the door behind us, trying not to see our gorgeous home torn apart.
I grasp onto my nerve by a thread and think about one thing.
Getting to my husband.