Chapter 23 Declan
TWENTY-THREE
declan
“Take my card,” I say to Milo, reaching into my jacket pocket.
The shock of her bite ricochets through me, and I squeeze my thighs tight around her face, hoping to stop her from castrating me, hoping that he won’t figure out that the bride in question, one he’s not getting near, is under the desk with my dick between her fingers.
I slam my wallet down as Molly pushes my thighs open and takes my cock in her mouth again. She torments me with long, slow strokes on my dick, no doubt aimed to undo me.
“No, I no longer want to marry her,” he says, eyes sliding to her purse on the fucking table. Christ, the man needs to leave. Now. Molly’s clearly into torturing me, and I’m not sure I can handle it for much longer.
I nod. “She’s trouble, I’ll give you that, but—” She bites me again, too close to my fucking sac, the demon that she is. “She’s worth it.”
And…shit…I really think she might be.
“Someone like Marlowe would be a good springboard into legitimate society. Marrying her would get me more money, plus the shares I wanted of her family’s company.
And while I did want those shares, my proposition’s about Mario.
I want him found. If you can help, you can have the girl and all her stock in the future. I won’t come for any of it.”
“A kind offer, but that doesn’t seem a good deal. Who’s to say you won’t change your mind?”
Marlowe’s holding my cock now, and it’s only a brief reprieve. I know she’s close to attacking me with that mouth again, so I take a second to process what I’m hearing.
“I want my brother,” he repeats.
“If he’s alive,” I say. “I hear the shoot-out at the truckyard in Queens was brutal…a cop was killed. And I’m not a private investigator…”
She licks the length of my shaft, and I bite down on a hiss.
Molly stops, and I can breathe. For as long as she lets me.
“How about I’ll listen to what your brother Callahan wants, and if it’s fair, he can have it, slate cleaned.”
“We don’t have any slate with you.”
He offers a cold, biting smile. “You have Marlowe.”
“You don’t even want her.” I swallow my next words. “My brother’s head of the family, you’ll need to talk to him. But if you leave Marlowe alone and give me a gentleman’s word, I’ll help you find your brother.”
There’s a glimmer in his gaze, like he’s holding something back.
So I press on. “I’m not a private investigator, like I said. But I know someone who can help. You might know him, too. It’ll be between the two of you.”
He nods. “Roark.”
“I’ll put in a word.”
My meaning’s clear, and we both know he wants some kind of deal where what he does in private is locked down.
Because I recognize that glimmer in his gaze. The calculating look. He’s got something he doesn’t want others to know. It kind of reminds me a little of myself when I tried to wiggle out of things and hide truths from my brothers as a kid.
He wants more than his brother.
So I wait. He might not tell me what that is, but if he goes to Roark, then he’ll tell him. If it’s something to do with Molly, I’ll get the word then.
But…I don’t think it is about her.
This guy is no creeper. He’ll take, but he won’t skulk.
What about Mario? The missing Mario himself?
That…shit, I don’t know.
Marlowe still doesn’t move. Her hand is on my dick, the other one clenching my thigh, but at least she’s not torturing me. She gets the importance of this conversation and what’s not being said.
“You got your heroin.”
“Marco—Mario—is my baby brother, but he’s always been coddled and wild…he makes his own bed, you know?” He looks uncomfortable as fuck. “Mario stole that cocaine, right?”
I don’t nod. I don’t have to. He knows the truth.
“But he stole something from me, too. Not just the drugs. And I need this thing back. Dead or alive, I need it back.”
“I don’t know your brother. We’ve never met,” I say.
And I hesitate before making a decision.
He’s being vulnerable for a Don, so I go for it, too.
“I hired someone to sell those drugs against my brother’s orders.
Thought it was a good deal. That person evidently made a deal with your brother and…
well, it landed me in all kinds of hot water. But I never met him.”
He nods, narrowing his eyes at me.
“The thing was of…sentimental value. A police-issued gun.”
The gun I have? Fuck me. But I don’t change my expression. I don’t buy the sentimental part, but the gun… “Do you want him or the gun?”
Marlowe stills completely.
“Both. But if it comes to it, I’d rather have the gun, and he can just disappear.” Then he begins to talk about his brother, making it clear to me he loves him, but he needs that gun for reasons he doesn’t explain.
Molly moves again, her fingers stroking me, her tongue moving over my skin, my balls, and he could be telling me the secret to eternal life for all I care.
She sucks me down, all the fucking way down, her throat doing insane things to the sensitive head of my cock.
I try to even my breathing. He’s still fucking talking, and I need to concentrate. There are layers to this conversation, but I can’t think. “Take the card, we’ll talk. You, me, Cal, and Roark.”
“As long as we’re clear.”
Fuck. I clutch the desk. “We are.”
He finally nods and leaves.
I convulse, on the edge of coming. “Fuck, Molly.”
She pulls off me, leaving me waiting, wanting, needing to come.
“You’re trying to sell me off?” she says, teeth gritted, voice fiery as her hair. “Just leave if you hate me that much.”
“You hate me.”
“I should have bitten your cock off.”
I push back and lean down, looking at her.
“Jesus. For the last goddamn time, we weren’t dating, Marlowe.
I never did anything with her and you at the same time.
Could I have not ghosted you? Sure, if I wanted to ruin the operation I was running.
I kissed her because she was my ‘in.’ I never did anything else and almost fucked up that job because of you.
I wanted to come back, to see you, but then you had to go all psycho jealous lady and have me arrested. ”
Her eyes fly open wide. “You…”
She makes a soft sound, and I should be understanding, but I’m not. I’m half crazed, and I grab her, and pull her so she’s face first on my dick.
Then I push the chair back in.
“You’re not getting up until I shoot my hot cum down your throat.”
“I hate you so much.”
“Feeling’s mutual. You bit me.” I shudder as she licks me again, running her lips up and down my dick so hard it hurts. She then sucks me back into her mouth. I can feel the stretch of her lips, that hot wet space is perfection, and she bobs on me, taking me deep.
It’s rhythmic, like a hot little wave that sucks just for me. The analogy is crap, but I’m at the very edge and I can’t think like a normal person.
“Dec, what the fuck are you doing in here?” I freeze, and so does the redhead under the desk.
I’m halfway down her throat.
“Sitting?”
Cal walks into the office, points to the purse, and rolls his eyes. “What did Milo want? I saw him leave the room.”
She starts to move again, sucking slow and hard and moving in deliberate and agonizing movements that are just the right level of too drawn out so I’m dangling over the brink of carnal explosion and going nowhere.
My balls climb high, sparks igniting in my groin. I need more. But I really don’t want to come in front of my brother, even though he won’t see.
Pleasure and pain shoot through me like lasers, the pressure in my balls and dick too much and not enough.
Cal asked a question.
“He said he’s talk—”
“With me? Already did. We should be square. What did he want from you?”
“Help in finding his brother,” I push out. “Dead, I imagine, or alive.”
“No doubt he’d prefer breathing.”
“I think—” I rasp, gripping the edge of the desk. Fuck me… “I think he wants that police-issued gun. As well as his brother. I think that’s why he was in Maspeth.”
“That seemed clear,” Cal says like an annoying brother who’s prolonging my agony deliberately because he fucking knows who’s under the desk, even if he can’t see her.
No doubt she’s turned on by that, too.
“Main…main reason.”
Oh damn, she’s sucked me all the way in, her hand clamped around my balls, rolling them as she works me over.
“I see. I’ll talk to Roark if Tor doesn’t find anything on the gun.” He stares at me a moment, lifting an eyebrow. And I’m pretty fucking sure he’s lingering deliberately. “And Dec?”
“Y-yes?”
“Finish up fast, yeah? I want to get out of here.”
I don’t care that he leaves the door open when he leaves. I shoot back in the chair, dragging her with me, and I hook my hand at the back of her head, burying my fingers in her hair as I hammer into her throat. And then with a cry I can’t control, I come, filling her throat and mouth.
She fights me, falling back, coughing, sputtering, drizzling cum out of the sides of her mouth. It’s a beautiful fucking sight.
I breathe hard as I manage to put myself away and pull her from under the desk. “Come here.”
“Go away.”
“No.” I pull her up into my arms and kiss her hard, softening as she responds. Soon our tongues are locked in a slow dance that’s all fucking.
And then it melts into gentle strokes. I can’t stop. Neither can she. We’re making out like we’re fifteen.
We’re kissing like the world starts and ends with us.
I could fall for her, I realize in that moment.
She’s not the spoiled girl I thought she was. She’s just someone who’s been deliberately sheltered and controlled.
I help straighten her clothes. “Don’t hate me anymore, Molly.”
“It’s ingrained.” She looks like she wants to cry.
I kiss her again, and then Seamus spears in the doorway. He knocks, clearing his throat like an eejit.
“Seriously?”
“My eyes don’t deserve this,” he says. “Come on, we’re gonna roll.”
I say hi to Pepper, who opens an eye on his perch. “Don’t wake the fucking Zulus,” he says. “And show us your tits, you mangy mama.”
“You don’t want to see my tits, you freaky bird.”