Chapter 24
It’s been a subdued three days compared to how things have been. They’ve been what normal couples would consider the usual. For us, it’s been bliss. Nothing’s happened, so Finn and I are inseparable. It’s a fairytale come true. He’s charming without trying, and he’s incredibly considerate. I don’t think it’s to woo me. I think that’s just who he is. We’ve cooked together, cleaned together— apparently, none of the guys have maids because their mothers guilt them out of it —and fall asleep in each other’s arms. We’ve taken more naps than either of us has since we were toddlers. And sex. Lots and lots and lots and lots of sex. And then some more.
The one downer was a call from Maria Mancinelli. She warned me about some imaging results Jamie and Asher were going to get. She couldn’t be specific because of HIPPA, even if no one in my family nor I would ever report it. At the end of the call, she brought up Finn. She didn’t explicitly warn me away, but the meaning was clear. I was as polite as I could be when I told her to mind her own fucking business. She’s a friend, and she was looking out for me. I can appreciate it, but part of me wondered if the men in her family put her up to it just to spite Finn.
I reminded myself that Maria is not someone anyone can force. She won’t do what she won’t do, especially if she thinks it’ll hurt someone else. Now I might know that she’s a Mafia daughter— Finn said no woman in any of the syndicates wants to be called a princess —and married to a mafioso, but she’s still one of the very most kindest people in the world. Like as kind as anyone could be.
Besides that, and the looming issue with Uncle Corey, it’s been wonderful. I don’t think it’s because Finn and I have been on our best behavior to impress each other. I think we just live well together. We like the same things, and we often think of the same things. The mind reading is uncanny. Sometimes I can’t find even a smidge of a hint to what he’s feeling. I know not to push that. He’s had a few calls that made him reserved when he came out of his office. He said he hadn’t a clue what the conversation was about that I had with Maria because I was just as reserved. Finn said he likes not knowing what I’m thinking because if he can’t guess, then no one can. It’ll come in handy.
I’m meeting his parents tonight, and I’m only mildly petrified. His father is a mobster, and his mother is married to one and raised three. What if I completely underwhelm them? We’re back at his place right now after spending last night at my apartment, and I’m staring at the closet with the clothes I brought over yesterday. As though meeting his parents isn’t enough, it’s Sunday dinner. That means all of them will be there. Finn’s brothers and cousins plus Mair and Finn’s parents. But that’s not all. Oh no, let’s toss in his two uncles and two aunts.
“Little one, you could go in a paper bag, and they’ll still love you.”
Finn wraps his arms around my waist and holds me against him. He kisses my shoulder before pulling my towel off me. I reach for a shirt, but he turns me away. Without a word, he guides me to the bed and sits. He opens his legs and points to the floor. I drop to my knees and open my mouth. He presses my head forward as he guides his cock to my mouth.
“Warm it. Cailín, they will adore you for you. You’re everything any parent could hope for their child’s partner. You’re genuine, and they will know that the second they meet you. You don’t need to put on a show to impress anyone. Just be you. They know how important you are to me. They know our future is together. They’ll be happy for us. I know you’re nervous. I was practically queasy meeting your parents, but it will go well. I promise. Suck.”
We’ve kept going with the free use, and it’s been wonderful for both of us. I’ve never felt more desired and needed in my life. Finn enjoys letting me know how much I mean to him. Anyone looking in from the outside would argue it’s pure lust. But it doesn’t feel like that. Yes, sometimes we just want to bang. But even when we’re into bondage or impact play or whatever else, the emotions run deep.
He pulls away and helps me to my feet before guiding me to lie with my chest and stomach on the mattress. He spanks me. Hard. Like enough to push me forward on the mattress. He does it four more times until I’m dancing from one foot to another. He squeezes my left ass cheek until I whimper. He doesn’t let go, and I don’t want him to. He hovers over me.
“Who’s in control?”
“You, Daddy.”
“Does that mean I’m going to take care of you, cailín?”
“Always, Daddy.”
“Who gets all my cum in her cunt?”
“I do, Daddy.”
“Why?”
“Because you care about me.”
“It’s more than that. Why?”
“Because you like me.”
“More than that. Why?”
What more is there to say short of saying he loves me?
“Why, Thea? Answer me.” He spanks me again.
“I don’t know, Daddy.”
He gets me back on my feet before lifting me to wrap my arms and legs around him.
“Daddy.” It’s a hissing whisper as he slides into me.
“I know, mo ghrá.”
“What does that mean?”
“My love.”
I stare at him for a moment before I tighten my whole body around him. Is he saying…?
“Thea, I love you. I will always take care of you the best I can. I will always do everything in my power to give you what you need. Tonight, you need the reassurance everything will be okay. That you can trust me to only take you somewhere I control who’s around you. That you will only be around people who’ll accept that your family connections are older than you are. You’re letting me control how we make love because you trust that I’ll know what you want and give it to you. I’ll always do that. Until my last breath.”
“I love you, Finn. You understand me in a way no one else does. You get what I need and want without me saying a word. You’re hilarious, but you’re also silent strength when I need it. My feelings for you are so vastly different from any I’ve had before. I’ve been infatuated, and you know I loved my college boyfriend and the one in med school. This doesn’t feel like any of that, so I can only attribute it to a deep and lasting love. I want you to know I will give you everything you need and do my damnedest to give you what you want.”
“You already do. You are my refuge. You’re who I turn to now. Even when I can’t tell you things, you’re still who I turn to. You’re who I want to be with when things are great, and when things are shitty. I haven’t told you about other stuff going on separate from your uncle. I can’t, and I won’t. But you have helped me immeasurably just knowing I’m coming home to you, or I’m walking out of my office to you. There are two absolute certainties in my life. I can never change being a mobster, and I will never change loving you.”
“There’s a third one. Family. We are each other’s, but now we both have twice the family we did before we met.”
He carries me to the bedside table as though I weigh nothing. That is not the case. I’ve been called thick more than once in my life. But he told me about carrying Cormac up the stairs when his cousin had a concussion a few months ago. He couldn’t let Cormac’s head bounce around like it would if Finn had fireman carried him. Nope. He said he carried his heavy-arse— his words, not mine —cousin across the threshold like a bride.
He grabs the smooth paddle and walks to where he can see us in the mirror. I can’t. I see the wall behind our bed. He’s gotten me used to calling everything in the condo ours. He’s even gotten me used to calling all the cars ours. And yes, all. He has four. He has a Wrangler he takes off roading like a little toy Tonka. He has a pickup truck from when he was just out of college and worked construction for Donovan while going to grad school at night. He has a Jaguar convertible. And he has an electric car that I’ve never heard of. It looks like a prototype that only he has because he’s richer than the Vatican.
I drive a Beamer, so it’s not some old clunker. But it hardly lives up to his cars. He says I’m wiser than him since— except for the electric car —I picked a far more practical car that’s the most fuel efficient of ours.
I’m unprepared for the paddle to land against my ass. I jerk up as my thighs squeeze his ribs. With the arm wrapped around me, he presses me back down his dick. I don’t stifle my moan. I knew the spank was coming, I just didn’t know it was coming right that moment. None of the spanks are punishment. They’re purely for pleasure.
“Count them and say thank you.”
“One. Thank you, Daddy.”
Smack.
“Two. Thank you, Daddy.”
Smack… Smack…Smack…
I count and thank him each time until we get to ten. I’m ready to crawl out of my skin, needing to come. He turns back to the bed and tosses the paddle aside. He pulls my arms from his neck as he lays me down. My back barely touches the mattress before he’s pounding his cock into me.
“Harder.”
“I will hurt you.”
“Harder, Finn.” He always holds back a little, and that’s the only thing that’s frustrated me since we met.
“If I harm you, I will?—”
“Fucking hell, Finn. I’m fucking thirty-three years old. If I want you to fuck my brains out, then I know what I want. You will never totally lose control. Even if you think you have, your subconscious will always keep you from harming me. Now, please, Daddy, fuck me harder.”
He growls. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes. He increases the pressure incrementally, knowing I’m still not used to breath play. But I like it. He grinds his pubic bone against my clit. My nails graze his biceps as I try to reach his arms to hold on to them. I can’t. I clench fistfuls of the comforter and explode. The moment he knows I’m coming, he releases my throat. He grabs my hips and moves with a speed I didn’t know someone could. I’m going to be sore the moment he pulls out. And I’m going to love it.
“Fuck, Thea!”
He slams into me one more time before I feel him trembling. I know he’s shooting his spunk into me, and I love that, too. I love knowing he loves me, and I love him. I love the dominance I felt during that. I love knowing he only wants me. And I love knowing I get to spend a lifetime making him happy. He’s a complicated man in so many ways. But there is one very simple thing to understand about Finn O’Rourke. When he loves, he loves with his whole heart.
He picks me up and carries me to the sofa we bought for our bedroom. He sits with him still buried inside me. We’re both perspiring as I lean against him. His hands roam over my back and ass. The only sounds are our labored breathing. I grin as I close my eyes and bask in this post-coital bliss.
The guys I loved before Finn each planned some grand gesture to tell me they loved me. They wanted to wow me and make sure I knew just how much they loved me by how big that expression was. With Finn, he told me he loves me in a totally ordinary way. I like it so much better. I appreciate it more. It’s our everyday love. The love that’ll sustain us. It didn’t need to be flashy to prove it, to make it memorable. I’ll remember every day because he’ll show me every day. For all the riches Finn has and all the things at his disposal, he’s the most down to Earth guy I know. But I sense that about the other men in his family.
It”s actually completely bizarre when you put it in the context of them being mobsters. His brothers have come over— announced —and I’ve listened to them tease each other. They’re merciless. They swear it’s from growing up around three brothers married to three sisters. The siblings are harsh on each other, but the wives spare nothing when teasing their husbands. Finn assures me I’m bound to see it tonight, even when his family is on their best behavior in front of me. It all sounds so damn normal. Maybe they need that normality to balance all the things that must be batshit bonkers by the typical person’s standards. I don’t know. I hope I see it tonight.
It thrills neither of us to get up, but we get dressed and head to his parents’ house. And by house, I mean a fucking mansion. It’s insanely large. Finn explained to me it was big enough for everyone to have a room. I guess I figured shared rooms or maybe rooms in the basement. Oh, no. This house looks like it must have at least ten bedrooms. I forgot about the pool house I glimpsed in the back. I’ve never seen a house this big that wasn’t a mansion on Long Island or in Newport, Rhode Island.
I didn’t know there were neighborhoods like this in Queens. It’s in a gated community behind its own gate. I try not to stare at the armed guards since Finn warned me. But it’s like being at the fucking United Nations or an embassy. This is most definitely the safest I’ve ever been since stepping foot in New York City.
Finn lets us in the front door, and I immediately hear a cacophony of voices. I recognize Mair’s as she talks over a couple of male voices. I catch a few words over the laughter that erupts. It sounds like she’s teasing Dillan. Finn nudges me with his shoulder. When I look up, his grin clearly says “see.”
“It’s about time you showed up. We missed Ally.” Sean goads Finn by making cow eyes at me.
What the fuck did I just walk into? I look around and see three sets of older couples. I can’t tell which ones are Finn’s parents. All three women have deep russet hair, so darker than Finn’s generation, and the men have more strawberry blond. There was no way any of their children wouldn’t be born with red hair. The older men’s blue eyes are as brilliant as their wives’ green ones. Since Finn and all the other guys have exactly the same shade of emerald-hued eyes, they clearly came from their moms.
The couple near the fireplace walks over to us while everyone else watches. I feel the spotlight on me. The woman kisses Finn’s cheek, then the man hugs him. They turn expectant faces to me.
“Mom, Da, this is Althea. Ally for short.”
“Except he calls her Thea. No one else gets to.”
I look around Finn’s mom to where Sean smirks. I glance at Finn, and I’m absolutely positive he’d give his brother an obscene hand gesture if his parents, aunts, and uncles weren’t in the room.
“Thea, these are my parents. Breda and Ronan.”
“Hello. Thank you for having me for dinner.”
Wonderful.
That sounds like they’re about to skewer me and serve me on a platter. That’s about how I feel.
“We’re so happy to have you. I can tell already. You and Mair are such an improvement on these heathens.”
Breda offers me her hand, and I shake it. Her smile makes her eyes crinkle where lines weren’t a moment ago. She’s beautiful, but her smile makes her radiate something more than skin deep. She reminds me of my mom.
“Ignore Frick over there. Frick and Frack are just jealous their older brother still beats them at everything.” Ronan grins, and I’m seeing an older version of Finn who could be his brother not his father.
“I never said I wanted a girlfriend.”
I’m pretty sure that was Shane muttering. I’m positive when Cormac pushes his shoulder and laughs. He gets a jab in.
“Don’t pout. Nana used to say you’ll trip over that lip.”
I suck my lips in and try not to laugh, but Breda whispers to me, and I fail.
“Go ahead and laugh. You’ll pop if you don’t.”
It comes out somewhere between choking and snorting. I want to sink into the ground.
“You feel better now, don’t you?” Ronan waggles his eyebrows.
What have I walked into? I ask myself that a second time. My family jokes around, but nothing like what I’ve seen in the five minutes I’ve been here. Finn was right. They accepted me when they heard about me. Putting a face to the name was just a technicality. I feel part of the family already. Finn guides me to one of the three sofas in the sprawling— what else do you call a space this large —family room. Before we sit, the other two couples join us. The women kiss Finn’s cheek, while the men hug him. All four offer me kind smiles that match Ronan and Breda’s.
“Thea, this is Auntie Siobhan and Uncle Tate. They got stuck with Dillan. And this is Auntie Saoirse and Uncle Kieran. They claim their sons are the nice ones. Seamus and Cormac just never got caught.”
“So, they’re the smart ones.” The comment pops out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying.
Cormac and Seamus walk over. Seamus snags my hand and gives it a little tug, so I step away from Finn, but I’m still holding his hand. They give me a kiss on each cheek, then smirk at Finn. Cormac has all the jokes tonight.
“I think we made Finn cry.”
“You must have been the ones who stole everyone else’s toys.” I test the waters with that one.
“They did.” Dillan chimes in before his wife playfully covers his mouth with her hand, leaving only a garbled sound coming from him.
“See why we like her as much as Mair.” Sean’s the picture of an angel, which clearly fools no one since his parents don’t even look in his direction. Breda speaks to me instead.
“I’ll say the same thing to you as I did Mair the night she met all of us. They weren’t raised in a barn. They just spent all their time there. Ignore their nonsense. Come and have a seat. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Finn and I sit on the empty loveseat, and there’s a lull for a moment. Blessedly, Mair comes to the rescue.
“Are you busy at work?”
“No more than usual. We’ve had a few particularly challenging cases, but we’ve also sent several babies home in the last two weeks. That makes up for the long days.”
“You’re a pediatrician?” Saoirse sounds genuinely interested.
“A neonatologist. I specialize in babies born with complications.”
Saoirse’s expression turns sad for a moment before she glances at Seamus. “Shay was nine weeks early. He spent a month in the NICU. We had a fantastic neonatologist who explained everything at least three times for our sleep deprived— and my hormonal —brains to understand. Thank God for the nurses who would play with Cormac while we were with Seamus. Cor was just over seven months old. Irish twins, I know. You’d never guess Shay was a preemie then or now. He weighed four pounds six ounces.”
My gaze jumps to Seamus. You’d never believe the man who looks like he eats bodybuilders for breakfast was considered very preterm. Babies born at thirty-two weeks, the cusp of very and moderately preterm, are usually just shy of four pounds. At thirty-one weeks, he probably looked gigantic in the incubator. He catches me looking at him and flexes his pecs like Terry Cruz.
“Showoff.” Saoirse sounds playfully exasperated with her son.
I hear a timer go off in the kitchen. Ronan, Tate, and Kieran rise and head into the kitchen. I shouldn’t find that surprising, but I do.
“Kieran’s the best baker in the family.” Saoirse is about to say more when Seamus cuts in.
“Because Cormac’s such a whiner.” The younger brother looks like he’d stick his tongue out at the older brother is they were five.
“My body is a temple.”
Dillan snorts. “You were praying to the porcelain god last Halloween. I’m damn positive that whiskey wasn’t vegan.”
“Before my son ever so rudely interrupted his elder—” Saoirse cocks an eyebrow at Seamus “—Kieran enjoys it, and he’s been making the boys’ birthday cakes since they were little. Cormac is the cleanest eater of all of them. He avoids the processed foods that are clogging the other boys’ arteries.”
I look at all the men in the room. None— not a single one from either generation —looks like anything but the picture of good health. Ronan pokes his head back in to say everything’s ready. It’s a lively meal, and I feel like I’ve been part of the family for decades not a couple hours.
When we finish, the younger men gather everything and head into the kitchen. Mair leans back in her chair, raises her wine glass to me, winks, and takes a sip. I hear them moving around, loading the dishwasher, washing things in the sink, and wiping down all the surfaces. Now I get what Finn meant when he said their moms guilted them into not having maids. They can do it all, and I’m certain the kitchen’s spotless now.
Another hour passes in the family room before everyone says their goodbyes and heads out. I sit curled on Finn’s lap in the car. My eyes are drooping shut.
“That went well, mo ghrá.”
I love hearing the Irish term of affection. I curl my toes in my shoes and burrow closer.
“I thought so too. Everyone is so nice.”
“And normal.”
“Yes. I wasn’t sure I should say that. But they are. Is it to balance everything else?”
“Our parents decided when each couple married, the mob ended at their front door. No one can change who and what we are. But our homes are for family and friends. We’re close knit by choice as much as by necessity. The six of us guys grew up more like brothers than cousins. When Colleen died, and Dillan became an only child, he and I gravitated toward each other even more. Cormac and Seamus have each other, and Shane and Sean showed up as a package deal.”
“What about before Colleen died? Were you the odd one out?”
“I suppose I could have been, but Colleen always made sure I wasn’t. She was our leader even though Dillan and I were older. She got us out of as much trouble as she got us into. Seamus and Cormac always came out looking squeaky clean when the seven of us lined up in front of what always felt like the firing squad. No one ever narced on the others. Not even when we were really little and didn’t yet understand that family comes first. We were born and bred loyal. But Cor and Shay still got away with everything. Colleen doled out her own brand of justice once our parents were gone. She was having none of our cousins’ innocent act when she knew they were in the thick of it with the rest of us.”
There’s a tinge of sadness in Finn’s voice as he reminisces. It makes me feel shitty all over again like when I demanded to know if he was married. That car ride seems like a million years ago.
“You would have liked her, little one. You remind me a lot of her. You both committed to a life of service.”
I press his cheek to turn him, so I can kiss his lips. “I won’t ask to learn Gaelic because I’m certain your family is fluent for a reason other than tradition. But what can I call you?”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but Mair speaks fluent Gaelic as do the moms. We’re always conscious of who’s around us. Is there an English word or phrase you want the equivalent of?”
I think about the term he used and practice it in my head before I say it aloud. Moh graw.
“You said my love is mo ghrá. What about sweetheart?”
“Mo chroí is my heart.”
I repeat that one in my head too. Moh kree.
“Mo anam cara is my soulmate.”
I try repeating it. “Moh anum cair-ah.”
“Excellent.”
“That might take some practice.”
“Good thing you have a lifetime. Mo stór is my treasure.”
Moh store. Simple.
“What about something like my darling?”
He chuckles as he pulls out his phone. He unlocks it and pulls up the notes app and types as he speaks.
“That’s the least phonetic of any of them. Mo mhuirnín.”
“Say that again. There are too many letters.”
He chuckles again and says it slowly for me. “Moh wur-neen.”
I can say it, but it’s butchered. “It’s going to take me a while to get the accent right.”
“I think it’s cute how you say them. And I appreciate you wanting to learn.”
“I want you to know your feelings are never one-sided, mo stór.”
“Very good.”
He puts his index finger beneath my chin and lifts it. His kiss leaves me all gooey inside. It’s interrupted by a phone call. I didn’t see who it was, and I can’t hear anything. Finn’s watching me until he hangs up.
“I have to go out tonight.”