Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Cormac
I have fucked things up every which way from Sunday. I couldn’t have made more of a mess if I’d tried. I’m completely unaccustomed to these feelings of jealousy, and I let them get the better of me, which is also something I never do. I don’t allow emotion to rule unless it’s a sense of calm, which I’ve cultivated over the years even when situations tempt me to panic.
That’s exactly what I just did. I let jealousy make me panic and made me speak without thinking. I’m an utter fool, and now I’m standing by myself looking at Joey’s door that didn’t even slam in my face. Just the opposite. It closed with cold indifference, or at least that’s how I felt because she didn’t look at me again after she told me to go home.
Not even a slight glance from the corner of her eye. It’s as though she forgot about me before she even got all the way inside. I have no one to blame but myself for this because she’s right. I took a perfect evening and sent it to shite. It’s not something I can recover even if she forgives me, and I doubt that’s possible at this point. But even if she did, it doesn’t change how I ruined this. That when she looks back at tonight, she won’t just remember what we shared at Obsidian.
To me, it was the most pleasurable, erotic, soul-defining night of my life. I was with Deirdre for three years and never felt about her what I just did with Joey. It wasn’t the most structured or planned scene I’ve ever done, but I felt like she took a part of me tonight, and that’s why I got so jealous so fast. It felt like I gave her a piece of me that left a hole that jealousy filled with thoughts of Pablo.
I believed that little boy when he said Pablo lied, yet when she started to mention his name, and it was connected to a sex club, all sound reason flew right out my ear and down the hallway out to the street. She was asking me, not telling me, that Pablo was a member. I’m certain her surprise was genuine, yet I completely ignored that—or overlooked it—or didn’t see it until it was too late. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, but I let envy and hurt rule the day. There’s never been a fool greater than me.
I chastise myself the entire way home. There are things in life I’ve regretted, but I usually tell myself regrets are useless. I can’t go back and change the past. I can try to right wrongs and do better in the future. But a fuck load of good that does me when Joey wants nothing to do with me. There won’t be a future between us for me to fix, and that’s almost the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.
Only bullet wounds and a few stabbings have hurt more. I don’t know how to fix this, and as I lie in bed, I don’t know whether I should even try. It’s not Pablo’s bullshit that makes me wonder whether it’s worth it. I don’t want to upset her more by insisting on something she clearly doesn’t want. However, if there’s even remotely a chance to make this right, I don’t want to pass that up.
Should I text her and apologize? Thank her for one of the best nights of my life? Would she even believe me if I included that last part? She might think I’m just saying it to manipulate her.
We don’t know each other well enough for her to be confident that’s not what I’d do. I’m certain she now believes I’m no better than Pablo since my objection was him being a manipulative little fuck. She probably thinks I’d do the exact same thing, since I’m certain now she believes I’m no better than he is.
I’m not any better than he is.
That rankles, and my doubts and self-loathing are almost all-consuming. I wonder if there’s any chance for me to make things up to her. I fall asleep with that on my mind, and I wake to it.
I realize how massive a fool I’ve been, and what a mistake I’ve made. But just realizing my stupidity isn’t enough. I gave her last night to cool off, but it wouldn’t surprise me if not texting her only made it worse. I consider what to say as I brush my teeth. I text her after I get dressed.
Me
I had an amazing night with you. Then I ruined it by becoming jealous. You’ve given me no reason to be. I let somebody who’s been tormenting me since we were kids get in my head for no reason. I regret that. I’m sorry for ruining the night for you. I should have been a bigger person than that but I wasn’t.
I think I’ve said enough. If I say more, it’ll feel like I’m trying too hard. I want it to be sincere. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m manipulating her.
I finish getting ready, waiting to see if she’ll respond. The minutes tick by as I head into the kitchen and round up the fruits and vegetables I soon blend with ice to make a smoothie. I add in some organic fiber and protein powders to round it out. I’m like a hobbit; this is first breakfast. I’ll have something later when I get to Dillan’s house where we’re all meeting this morning. He’ll have something ready for all of us.
We all know I’m the awkward one in the family because I’m entirely organic and practically vegan. I read an article and saw a documentary when I was a kid about processed foods and what they do to you. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to dredge up an appetite for anything that started out as pink sludge. No matter how delicious I’m certain it allegedly tastes, it’s just not for me.
I head down to my car, and I’ve still heard nothing back from Joey. I have to respect that she doesn’t want to hear from me anymore, and she may not accept my apology. I hope she does, but it’s unreasonable for me to expect her to. I look at the passenger seat as I climb in and think about how she rode there just last night. There’s still a whiff of her perfume in the air, and it’s better than any air freshener I could possibly have.
I doubt that’s a romantic thought she’d appreciate, but then again, romance was never supposed to be part of our arrangement. Not being a jackass was. I have no one to blame but myself for fucking things up. And boy, did I ever fuck them up.
It makes me wonder what she’s up to this morning and what her routine usually is. We were out pretty late, but I’m certain she got a full night’s sleep. I slept like shite. It wasn’t for lack of hours. It was lack of a quiet mind. Even when I was asleep, my brain kept ticking over this situation, and I dreamed about all the ways we could be together. I dreamed about all the ways it could end even more spectacularly, horribly than it did last night. I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise all she did was close the door in my face.
I shoot off a dictated text to Dillan as I approach the neighborhood everyone but me now lives in. It’s funny how, as a teenager, you can’t wait to get out on your own and live in your own home and do things your own way and not be like your parents. Yet, as everyone in my generation has married, they’ve all moved back to the same Queens neighborhood we grew up in.
None of them have moved in with our parents but have purchased homes on the same streets as bratva and Mafia families. Thanks to some gerrymandering and school district lines, we didn’t go to elementary or middle school together, but we wound up at the same high school. Many of us played on the same sports teams together all the way from peewee and little league up through high school. It was times like that when we put aside family rivalries to stomp our rival teams. When we were really little kids in those peewee and little league sports, we competed against each other just as often as we were teammates.
In that stupid movie, Goodfellas , Ray Liotta’s character says Saturdays are for wives and Fridays are for girlfriends. That’s hardly the case in any of the Four Families. There isn’t a man who would stray from his wife no matter what. He’d take a bullet before he’d ever betray his wife.
So, Friday night lights and Saturdays and Sundays were family days where the leaders of the four major families put aside the loathing and came together to watch their kids compete. The only family that didn’t have a dad there was the Kutsenkos.
They had their uncles, but their father was killed in the Second Chechen War before they immigrated to the U.S. The rest of the families all had their patriarchs cutting up orange slices and handing out juice boxes. Massimo Mancinelli even drove a minivan.
Yes, the almighty Mancinelli family’s consigliere drove a minivan. With that many kids, either he or his wife had to have a vehicle that could ferry all of them around. Four brothers and one sister. Their mom drove a tank of an SUV. But it was Massimo who pulled through the drive-through and got the happy meals for his kids after the games. They were in front or behind my family. My mom and dad always made sure they packed a special snack I could have while my brother and cousins devoured their chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers.
I didn’t mind being the odd one out because it was my choice. We’re all as healthy as it comes nowadays, but I’m certain all those cholesterol-riddled children’s meals will catch up with the guys in our old age. It’s not like I want to live forever. I’m happy to be alive today. But I also intend to enjoy my golden years without higher blood pressure than this life already gives us.
I knock loudly on Dillan’s door and wait for someone to open it. None of the couples can keep their hands off each other. It’s not like we had role models of propriety for that. All our parents are as in love and in lust as they were when they married. None of us have walked in on them, so we still have an open-door policy with our parents. It wouldn’t surprise me, though, if we’ve come pretty fucking close.
Dillan opens the door for me and smirks. I shake my head and his brow furrows. I’m certain he’s confused, as will be Seamus and Finn, when I let them know things cooled between Joey and me. I won’t go into any details about what she and I did in Obsidian’s private room, but I can let them know it didn’t work out.
“Hey, what’s up? How’s Mair feeling?”
“Better by the day, but it’s definitely touch and go. She had a fried egg on toast last night and was up most of the night.”
“Even something that bland?”
“Yeah. But she’s not overly concerned.”
“But you are.”
Dillan shoots me a remorseful frown before it morphs into a grin. He knows he hovers just as much as Finn does, but no one has been a prouder future papa than my two cousins. Family is everything to us. Before my generation met the women they’ve fallen in love with, most of us were certain we’d remain perpetual bachelors. None of us wanted to bring yet another generation into the mob. I think most of us hoped the O’Rourke name would die with us. At least the O’Rourkes being the boss and his immediate family.
Life carries on, as do families, so I can’t begrudge Dillan and Finn for wanting to have kids with their wives. However, it makes it difficult for all of us when we think about the life we’re going to leave behind to the next generation. I’m certain all the members of the Four Families in my generation think about the same thing. And it wouldn’t surprise me if our parents’ generation didn’t think about it too. But I guarantee there was pressure on them to breed more mobsters and Mafiosos.
It’s not like any set of parents didn’t rejoice with each kid’s birth. And it’s not like they hatched us rather than birthed us. But every family was encouraged to have at least an heir and a spare. It just so happened the families had so many sons. There are no bratva daughters in my generation, but Maks, Bogdan, and Niko each have little girls.
Maria Mancinelli is my generation. She’s the most untouchable woman in New York. She’s the daughter of the Mafia’s consigliere , the don’s niece, the underboss’s sister, the capo dei capi’s —the top captain’s—sister, and the wife of the capo dei capi’s best friend. Her third brother is the accountant, and her cousin is head of intelligence.
Dillan had a sister too, Colleen, but she died almost six years ago when a mercenary mistook her for Aunt Breda. It’s a subject we don’t avoid or ignore. However, it’s not one we discuss often. I don’t know how Aunt Siobhan and Uncle Tate survived losing their child. I’m certain Dillan was the reason they carried on. Unbidden, my mind jumps to Joey and what a family with her would look like.
Dillan leads me into the dining room where Shane and Sean are already devouring their breakfast. They’re only a couple minutes apart, and most people outside the family can only tell them apart by the freckle on the left side of Sean’s throat. They have distinguishing scars, but none of them show unless they’re undressed.
Five minutes later, Finn and Seamus show up too. I’m certain they walked over together since they live a couple blocks away from Dillan and a couple streets over from each other. They walk in on their own since Dillan already spoke to my brother and said he could. Márgrég—that’s Dillan’s wife’s full Irish name—is already at work. She went into the office early. She’s a lead investigative reporter for New York’s largest newspaper.
I grab a plate and pile fruit onto it just as high as the other guys. There’s a smaller plate with poached eggs on it. I know those are free-range ones Dillan set aside for me. I read in another article that poached is supposed to be one of the healthiest ways to eat eggs. I won’t melt cheese in the scrambled ones the way the other guys like them. I’m not doing some Rocky Balboa shite and eating them raw. That’s a good way to kill yourself with salmonella. Though I have been known to sneak a spoonful of raw organic cookie dough. Everything in moderation. I finish getting the rest of my food and join the guys at the table.
“Cormac, where’s your head today? You’re even quieter than usual.”
I shift my attention from my food to Shane as he cocks an eyebrow.
“Are you tired?”
Dillan, Finn, and my brother clearly already filled Sean and Shane in.
“Yeah, I am.”
I know that won’t suffice, but hopefully my tone tells them not to push too hard. Sean’s elbow nudges me as he fixes his stare on me.
“We hung out after we left McGinty’s but realized we’re not as compatible as we thought. It was an enjoyable night, but I doubt I’ll see Jocelyn again.”
It feels so strange on my lips to use her full name. However, that’s how I should think of her now. She’s not Joey to me anymore if she wants nothing to do with me. The guys let it rest. At least for now.
Our attention shifts to work. We don’t meet every morning to plan the day, but we do many mornings. We also alternate hosting Sunday family dinners. It’s my week to cook, so I’ll have everyone over in a few days. With nine households in the family, your turn only comes up once every two or so months. We spend time together out of necessity and by choice.
“What’s going on with Matteo? Is he still being a whiny little bitch about the yacht?”
I look over at Shane and grin. Matteo Mancinelli bought Maria the yacht Shane already had his eye on to give his wife as a wedding present. Shite went down between them, and now nobody has the yacht. Shane’s already replaced it with another one, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Matteo isn’t in the process of getting one, too.
But he’s been little Mr. Pissy Pants ever since. He was always the little bitch in the family who cried when somebody snagged one of his toys, even if he didn’t want it until somebody else had it. I know this because Seamus and I were in the same preschool class as him. We may not have gone to elementary and middle school together, but many of us went to the same Montessori preschool.
When outsiders meet us, they assume we’re some type of pro-athlete or trust fund baby. Most people don’t believe every member of my generation in the Four Families went to Ivy League or top-tier universities. When they find out, most of them assume our parents bought our way in. Not a damn one of us got in on anything besides merit.
It’s all good and well to have somebody buy a spot into an Ivy League, but it’s not like an idiot can stay. At least not an idiot who doesn’t figure out who to pay to keep their grades up for them. I made a small fortune doing homework and taking tests for those very types of people.
I’d say all of us have had an entrepreneurial spirit since we were young. No lemonade stands in the neighborhood, but we all came up with jobs once we were in high school. There were those our families assigned us, and there were the other independent ventures.
“Cormac, could you fecking pay attention?”
Dillan’s staring at me. My mind wandered, and it doesn’t even have anything to do with Jocelyn. I don’t know that I’ll get used to thinking of her that way. I’m just entirely distracted this morning.
“I have plenty on my mind. I’ve got two cases right now, and neither is turning out to be simple.” That’s not a lie, and I’ll make myself think about that instead.
“Where do we stand with that?” Dillan’s not letting me off the hook, which is fine because it’s on this morning’s unofficial agenda.
“The biotech acquisition stalled because the lawyers aren’t willing to present our offer to their clients. They believe they’re stonewalling us in their clients’ best interest.”
“It’s hardly in those lawyers’ best interest.”
I nod to Sean. His observation is correct. It’s not like we’re going to whack the opposing counsel, especially since two of them are women. But we’ll put the screws to them.
“How about you, Seamus? What’s going on with the robbery case?”
I breathe easier when Dillan turns his attention to my brother for his update. Seamus swallows the massive bite of pancake he practically inhaled and shrugs.
“We have a continuance until next month. The homicide trial starts in two weeks. Discovery’s been a bitch. Prosecution’s definitely withholding something. But I’m not worried I won’t learn what it is in time. My CIs are working overtime, and info’s trickling in. Not as fast as I’d like, but better than nothing.”
Finn speaks up with the quarterly audit’s results. The man isn’t obsessive, but he doesn’t sleep well if he can’t account down to the last five cents. Even that makes him twitch. Shane looks at me before he speaks.
“I need to go over to Staten Island today to check on the mini mall project. Where do things stand with Pablo?”
“Same as it usually is. We didn’t make any progress the other day when I ran into him in Port Richmond. I distracted him while Luke collected the last payments from the shops. They want us to stay out of there. I’m not interested in giving up those deals. However, now that those shop owners know there was never a need to pay us for protection, I’m going to have to find businesses somewhere else on Staten Island.”
It won’t be Port Richmond anymore, which might be a blessing in disguise since it means I won’t see Joey—Jocelyn—by accident. However, that’s like a knife to the chest since all I want is to see her again and fix my major fuck-up. Just going to Staten Island today will blow.
“I’ll scout out some new neighborhoods and their small businesses today. What’s going on with Misha and Pasha? They were bringing in a big shipment.”
Sean’s the head of our intel gathering, so he’s bound to have an update. Finn’s a talented hacker because he’s a forensic accountant, but his little brother can hack a government site and leave it cleaner than he found it.
“Yeah, it’s due to arrive today. I’ll have guys go out and watch it come in, see if it’s what we think it is, and get a rough appraisal. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be worth our efforts to snag it, but one of my CIs says they’re expecting us. After all the shite that went down with the Polish, they’re being extra cautious with any of their deals. They’re going to have this shipment guarded tighter than Fort Knox.”
Dillan sweeps his gaze around the table as our cousin finishes. Misha and Pasha own an import/export company—Bear Imports—original name for fucking Russians—and they bring in a shite ton more than just pineapples and guavas and send out a lot more than corn and soybeans.
“We’ve got buyers lined up, so just let me know when we’re ready to move on it.” Finn will ensure we know where and when we should make the move once he gets the report from his brother, and we know how much cargo we need to store.
We finish the meeting, and I head back to Staten Island. I rarely spend that much time in this borough. The only thing worse would be this much time in Jersey. At least the red hair keeps anyone from confusing me with some Cosa Nostra Guido. Perish the thought.
I’m trying for more inconspicuous today, so I’m not rolling in one of our SUVs or even my Audi. I left my car in the parking garage we own, so we can house our fleet of vehicles. I switched to a nice midsize Lexus sedan. I’d look ridiculous pulling up in a Civic or Corolla when I’m wearing a custom-tailored suit. The Lexus will stand out, but it won’t appear as ostentatious as my souped-up sports car.
Fuck my life.
The only parking spot available on the entire block is behind Jocelyn’s car. With my luck, we’ll walk out of neighboring buildings at the same time. She hasn’t responded to my text, which makes me think she won’t. I doubt she’s stewing over the perfect response since I doubt she’s considering answering.
I recognize several Cartel cars along with hers. They’ve upped their surveillance in the Latino communities, which doesn’t surprise me. The Diazes knew I’d be back to conclude my business here. These men won’t confront me. They’ll react if I go on the offensive, but none are high enough to take on a senior mobster. They’ll just tattle-tale to Enrique and Pablo within the next thirty seconds. It means I have little time to work.
I head into the first shop—a bakery—and the owner freezes. I see the guy’s gaze dart to the new security camera I immediately noticed as I walked in the door.
“Eduardo, mi amigo , you didn’t pay on time when my guy stopped in to say hi. I hope you remembered to add the interest.”
“O’Rourke, I’m not paying. The Diazes own my ass now.”
“They can have the left cheek, and we’ll keep the right for now. You’ve always prided yourself on not reneging on business deals. That means you need to make a final payment. Since you’re still in business, it means Pablo didn’t throw a tantrum about you paying us. I can’t say I’ll be as forgiving.”
I put my right hand in my pocket, which draws my suit coat back. It’s a move we all refined by the time we were twenty. It nonchalantly shows our gun holstered at our hip. If we’re wearing shoulder holsters, then we place our hands on our hips. If we’re wearing a lower back holster, we aren’t looking to advertise we have a weapon.
“I know you made your bank run this morning, so I’ll take what’s mine and be on my merry way.”
“I—”
The door chimes.
Fuck my life.
Joey—fuck it; I’ll never think of her as Jocelyn—spins on her heels. I can’t chase after her without drawing attention to her. I want to, but I can’t. I need to finish here. I put my other hand in my pocket to show Eduardo the matching handgun. I’m certain he knows I have a pocketknife.
“Fine. Fine.”
He relents, and pops open the cash register. Anger fills his gaze as he pulls out all the cash and hands it over.
“Be sure to run to the bank at lunch. Pablo’ll be back to collect their first installment this afternoon.”
“What? I can’t afford that.”
Eduardo splutters, and his face flushes a deep red. His hand darts under the counter.
“You know what a bad idea that would be. Do you really want to leave your wife a widow and your kids without a father?”
“At least they’d have the life insurance.”
I snort. “And that’ll provide for what? The funeral? You know you’re better off letting me walk out of here, then doing whatever the Diazes want. If you kill me, my family will blame the Diazes. Then they’ll blame you. Is that the sort of visit you want from Pablo?”
The man has no soul. None. It seeped out of him sometime during our mid-twenties. His cousins’ll rough people up, but Pablo’s the one who puts them to the screws—literally.
“I didn’t think so. Vaya con dios , Eduardo.” Go with God.
I tuck the money into my inside coat pocket and saunter out. The moment my head is outside, I scan the area for Joey. I spot her immediately. She’s talking to three Cartel guys. She’s shaking her head and takes a step back. When one of them leans too far forward, I’m done.
By the time I step behind Joey, the guy’s voice rises as he confronts Joey in Spanish. I’m a fluent Spanish speaker, as are most of the guys in my family. We’re all multi-lingual. It’s necessary for business, and speaking Spanish in New York City is hardly shocking. My Yiddish ain’t bad either.
“Does Enrique know you stand on street corners yelling at women, you pinche pendejo ?” Fucking idiot.
Joey’s back straightens, but she does nothing else.
“Back off, O’Rourke. You know better than to come back to this neighborhood.”
“What I know rarely stops me from doing what I want. Ms. Bracero, I’m sure you have an appointment you’re late for. We’d hate to keep you or the family waiting.”
“We’re not done talking to?—”
“You must be confused, Andres.”
I step around Joey and put myself between her and the men rather than beside her. When I slide my left hand into my pocket, they know I just wrapped my palm around my knife. Considering the scar the man has from a confrontation just like this where he thought a little too highly of himself, he won’t want a repeat.
“The bit?—”
“Finish that word, and I’ll dump you on Enrique’s doorstep myself.”
Despite shite that’s gone down among the Four Families in the past few years that’s involved women, we’re still all old school about how we speak about women. It’s not like none of us makes crass comments about sex, but we don’t speak that way in front of women and children. Enrique will peel the skin from this guy’s bones before handing him over to Pablo if he insults Joey by calling her a bitch.
“You’re not doing her any favors by coming to her rescue. We were just asking her about you.”
“Now you can ask me about me. Ms. Bracero, I’m certain you’re late now. Have a good day.”
I hear her walk to the street, and I see her from the corner of my eye as she steps off the curb. She crosses and hurries down the block, crossing another street before taking steps two at a time. She punches in a code and disappears into a building. I shift my attention back to Andres and his buddy.
“If the Diazes want to know shite about me, they know how to find it. Tell Pablo to stay the fuck away from her.”
“You fucked up this time, O’Rourke.”
“You won’t do shite to me on the street, and by the time your dumb-arse can call Pablo to whine about seeing me, I’ll be done.”
I’m bigger than both arseholes put together. I plow through them, each shoulder shoving into theirs. It forces them to step back like a shite game of Red Rover, except they weren’t holding hands. I have four places left, and when I come out of the last, it’s in time to watch Joey walk to her car.
She notices me and scowls. We reach our vehicles at the same time, and her brow furrows. I cock an eyebrow, and her eyes narrow to slits. I cock the other eyebrow before opening my door and slipping into my car. Neither of us pulls out of our spot for a couple minutes, then she gives in and inches forward until she can maneuver out. She had more room in front of her than I did. We’re on a one-way street, so I have no choice but to follow her. Even if I had a choice, I would.
We take a series of them until we get to a road where I can pull alongside her. I point to a parking lot we’re approaching. She shakes her head. We pass it and a second place I point to. I tell my hands-free system to call her. I notice she glances at her screen before hitting a button on her steering wheel. I should keep my eyes on the road. I call her four times before she finally answers.
“Leave me alone, Cormac. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I need to talk to you. It has nothing to do with last night and everything to do with what I just saw. This is about your safety, so unless you want me to follow you every minute of every day until you finally talk to me, I’d pull over now.”
“You don’t dictate what I do.”
“Jocelyn, pull over. Don’t make me prove I’m not exaggerating.” I infuse command into my voice, making me sound like a Dom rather than a man chatting with an acquaintance.
“Cormac, I really don’t want to do this.” Her voice softens, and I have a moment’s regret intimidating her.
“I know, cailín . This is because of us, but it’s not about us. Pull over.” I temper my tone until the last two words.
I hear her sigh and glance over as she nods.
“Drive around back of that church coming up on the left.”
I follow her into the parking lot, and she picks a spot that’s as far from the building as our cars can get. I pull in alongside her. Her wariness tempts me to park perpendicular to her, so she can’t leave until I’m ready for her to, but that won’t set a pleasant tone. We get out of our cars, and I walk around to her.
My gaze sweeps over her, then settles on her face. She watches me as I watch her. She matches my stare, waiting for me to go first since I insisted we talk. I want her to get to where she relents and doesn’t hold back. It’s manipulative as fuck. I’ve gotten good at it, though. But I don’t have forever.
“Jocelyn—” She flinches. “—what did they say to you?”
“Nothing they haven’t said before. They wanted to know about a family I saw today. The rumor spread that I was with Javier, so they wanted to know what you thought about me fucking both of you.”
My jaw tightens. It’s a good thing I didn’t find this out when those motherfuckers were in front of me.
“Why’d he step forward?”
“I told him the only fucking going on was him fucking off. He didn’t like that.”
“A boy chased me down and told me the rumor wasn’t true. Do people believe it?”
“I’m certain some people do, so they have something new to gossip about.”
“Was goading me all this was about?”
“I guess. This is why I wanted to stay off Pablo’s radar. He’s punishing me by ruining my reputation. Everything I do here requires that people trust me. He’s turning them against me by making them think I’m with you.”
“You were with me last night.” She understands the innuendo.
“You said we wouldn’t talk about that.”
“And we aren’t. I’m considering how much danger you’re in. I’m assigning you a detail.”
“The hell you are!”
“Jocelyn—”
“Don’t call me that.” She snaps at me, but she’s not yelling.
“It’s your name. Unless?—”
I leave that dangling, letting her decide how she wants to respond. When her gaze lowers, I have my answer. I step closer, but she doesn’t retreat. I rest my right hand on her hip and squeeze. She sucks in a breath, but I feel her relax a moment later.
“Look at me, Joey.”
She’s reticent, but she looks up. I know she’s staring at my ear, even if most people would think she’s looking me in the eye. I grasp her chin between my thumb and forefinger, but I only turn her to look at me. She could pull away easily. She doesn’t.
“You don’t like it when I call you Jocelyn, do you?” I’m back to my Dom voice.
“Not particularly.”
“Why?” I demand an answer without raising my voice.
“Because only you call me Joey.”
“But you said you didn’t want to see or hear from me.”
“That didn’t stop you from texting me, and I’m standing here with you.”
“You want to remain my Joey, don’t you?”
Her gaze darts away again, and her eyes water. That’s my answer. I pull her to me, pressing my fingers deeper into her hip as the hand on her chin drops, so I can wrap my arm around her. I lower my mouth to hers, hesitating, giving her a chance to pull away. Her chin inches up, so our lips touch. Then I lead this kiss.
I press my tongue into her mouth, sweeping it past her teeth. The arm around her waist lowers enough for my hand to grasp her arse. The hand on her hip now grips a handful of hair. I turn us, so her back is against her rear passenger door. She moans, enjoying me crowding her. She runs her hands over my chest and back, and I let her. The feel of her touching me makes my skin tingle, and I can’t get enough.
I nudge her feet apart and press my thigh between hers. I guide her to ride it, starting with a slow rocking motion. When she picks up the rhythm, I skim my hand from her arse up to her breast. I squeeze, eliciting another moan. I tug her shirt out of her skirt waistband and crawl my fingertips up her ribs, making her shiver. I pull her bra out of the way, so I can cup her skin to skin. When I pinch and tug her nipple, she grinds harder. I twist us again, so I have my back to the car. I release her hair in favor of spanking her.
If my Catholic grandmothers knew what I was doing in a church parking lot…Good thing it’s Methodist.
There are trees behind Joey, separating the church grounds from whatever business is behind it. I drag her skirt up and out of the way, so I can get to her bare arse, and the only thing between her cunt and my pants is her thong. Since we have as much privacy as we can in a public place, I don’t worry about anyone watching us. However, as much as I’m concentrating on her, I’m keeping my ears peeled for any nearby sounds.
I rain down ten spanks that must sting her arse because they sting my hand. Her movements show her growing impatience as I finally end our kiss and pull away. She clutches my shirt, her expression wholly needy.
“Are you going to be a good girl and talk to me after this?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know how badly I want to see you come and know I did that for you?”
“A lot, sir?”
“More than you can imagine. Do you know why?”
“No, sir.”
“Because you’re mine, Joey.”
With both hands, I move her against me, pressing her hips down. I flex my already hard thigh, giving her the friction she needs.
“May I come, sir?”
“Yes. You may always come unless I tell you to ask.”
“Please, sir, make me come.”
I move her as fast and hard as I can. She whimpers with need.
“ More, sir .”
She begs, and I love it. It feeds my hunger to dominate her. Give her what she needs when I know she needs it. To show her what we shared last night wasn’t a fluke. There was something there worth exploring again.
“Come for me, cailín . I know you’re close. Your nipples are so tight. If I had a condom, I’d be inside you. You’d be fucking my cock instead of my leg. Mmm. You want my cock again, don’t you?”
“So much, sir. Fuck, Cormac, I’m close.”
Her gaze meets mine, and she used my name on purpose. I pinch her nipple as hard as I dare while I land three jarring spanks. Her head falls forward to my chest as she shudders.
“That’s my good girl. Such a good girl coming for me.”
I pull her tight against me, so there’s no space between us. I pry her hands from my now rumpled shirt and pin them behind her back with one of mine. With the other I stroke her back.
“I love feeling you come, cailín . I love knowing I give you pleasure. I want to keep doing that. You deserve someone to take care of you. Who understands what you need and always tries to give you that. You deserve someone who trusts you and listens to you. You deserve someone who’ll stand beside you most of the time and in front of you when you need it. I didn’t give you that last night, and I’m sorry.”
She kisses along my neck, over my jaw, then up until she reaches my mouth as I bend over farther, and she stands on her toes.
“May I kiss you, sir?”
“Yes.”
I don’t know what to expect from this, but it’s languid. She doesn’t rush us, instead drawing it out. It feels as possessive as my more aggressive ones. She gazes into my eyes when she pulls away.
“What Pablo said was messed up, and he did it on purpose. I didn’t appreciate what you said, and it pissed me off. You understand my needs and try to fulfill them. You’ve stood beside and in front of me every time we’ve been around each other. I want us to build that trust if you’ll listen to me. I didn’t realize my phone died until I got in the car this morning. It was only at five percent when I got to the neighborhood, so I turned it on but didn’t check anything. It wasn’t until we got to our cars that I read your text. It’s why I didn’t pull out right away. I was forcing myself not to get out of my car and go to you. I couldn’t come up with what I wanted to say and didn’t want to reply with something stupid.”
“What do you want, Joey?”
“What you said earlier. You said I was yours. I want that.”
“You want to be my sub?”
“Yes. Contract and everything. I want to play like we did last night, and I want to submit again like I just did. If we run into each other, then we’re equals in front of others. When we’re alone or at a club, I’m your sub.”
“Do you want a weeknight and most of the weekend?”
“Yes. I get you might have stuff that comes up, but I usually know any plans I’m making with a few days to spare.”
“Do you want me to call and check on you throughout the week?”
This makes her blush. She nods.
“Answer me, little one.”
“Yes, sir. That would be really nice.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t offer or that I wouldn’t want to?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“Give us a month of getting used to each other. If you still want a contract in four weeks, I’ll give you one, Joey.”
“When can we start?”
“Tonight. I’m going to assign you a security detail, and when you argue, I’m going to punish that delectable derriere of yours.”