18. Ciaran
Ciaran
“Wallen wants a meeting.” Uncle Cormac tells me over the phone.
I shut my fridge, peeling the phone away from my ear.
The flat is so tiny it’s easy to hear the shower running.
Adeline just got back from studying, later than normal.
It’s aggravating how driven she is, something I’d never thought I’d say about a quality I usually admire.
But Adeline’s demand for perfection means she’s in the library as often as possible.
When she’s not studying, she’s at her internship.
She’s already planned out her next semester, and I know she’s only going to add more to her schedule.
“Ciaran?” Cormac prods over the phone.
I think of Adeline’s naked body in the shower, water sliding over her. It’d be a delightful little thought if I wasn’t thinking about it because I don’t want her to overhear me.
“Why?” I ask.
“Wants to do a bit of business. Why do you sound like that’s a bad idea?”
I haven’t turned my nose up at any meeting we’ve managed to schedule. Well, other than the one my da invited me to with Walsh. Wallen’s operation is niche but nets a hefty profit.
“He rarely asks for meetings,” I point out, allowing Cormac to think this is my source of caution.
Almost three months ago, I killed Jack. One of Wallen’s men. There’s not been a fucking word of it. No chatter or whisper. Da had heard Wallen was making some ill-advised remarks about Boris, but there hadn’t been anything specifically about Adeline’s bodyguard.
Cormac doesn’t hide his excitement, something he rarely allows to happen. “He wants a new distributor in Dublin. Thinks we can help.”
“Why us?”
“He knows we can manage it.” Smugness lines the words. “And he hates the Stuarts with a passion only rivaled by us.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
Uncle Cormac’s laugh barks down the line.
His effusion doesn’t rub off on me. “We should really think about it before we agree to anything.”
“I’d thought you’d be pissing yourself for a chance like this.”
“Wallen is a nasty fuck.”
Cormac is quiet, then, “So am I.”
“You always cautioned against measuring dicks.”
Cormac sighs, a hint of laughter in his breath. “You’re right, son. I haven’t lost my head completely. We’ll take a look at things, hear him out.”
The shower turns off, my voice dropping slightly when I ask, “When?”
“He’s in Bulgaria right now but wants to meet in person, so it’ll be a few weeks away.”
That gives me time to look into any gossip I hear. To make sure my name and Adeline’s aren’t on Wallen’s shitlist.
“This is a good thing,” Cormac says.
“Yeah.” But even to my ears, I hear the lack of excitement that normally courses through me when something as big as this happens.
The whole reason we came to America was to make moves like this. Solidifying our position with Walsh and ensuring our business in Dublin is bolstered is our priority. This will go a long way toward doing so.
A contract with Wallen means money. More liquid cash to fund our own entrepreneurial skills. It means no more paycheck to paycheck while other men, who have never struggled, look down at us.
“Is Adeline there?” Cormac asks.
“Yeah.” The walls are so thin, I hear her humming. She knows better than to put on any clothes. They’ll come straight off when I get ahold of her.
“That going well?”
“Yeah.”
We’ve got a routine now. She spends most nights here, my cock filling her cunt, the heat of her enough to drive a man mad.
At least a couple of days a week we go to lunch. They’re normally quick affairs since we’ve both got work, but now when we go out, other people notice. Friends of Adeline’s parents greet her and then shake my hand. Henson sent over a bottle of wine, a sign of friendship I didn’t turn down.
The men in New York City are starting to realize who I am. They recognize me as Adeline’s boyfriend, a man with goals and ambitions. They respect that. Respect me.
It’s helped me get several more meetings, Cormac slapping me on the back each time.
“You’re really sweet on her, aren’t you?” Cormac asks.
I turn off the kitchen light. She’s left a fantasy book on the coffee table. “I’ve got no complaints.”
“The holidays are coming up. Let’s see how you feel when the princess wants a designer bag.”
It’s not right when he calls her that, but the bedroom door opens, so I only say, “Good things are coming this way, aren’t they?”
Uncle snorts. “Yes, they fucking are.”
We say goodbye, and after brushing my teeth, I slide into bed.
“You okay?” I ask, curling up against Adeline’s back, kissing the top of her head. She’s been quieter today, not even sending as many texts.
“I’m tired,” she mumbles.
My hand finds her nipple, teasing. “I’ll let you sleep.”
She tries to hide her smile by smushing her face into a pillow. But her hips rock back into mine, pressing her ass into my groin.
“Unless you’re ready for my cock in your arse.”
Her cheeks flame, and she tries to hide her face in the pillows again. I don’t let her. I flip her on her back, climbing on top of her.
“Ciaran.” Worry shines in her eyes, but she bites her lip.
I drag my hand down the seam of her pussy, rubbing her arousal over her arsehole.
“You’ll like it,” I promise, but it’s only because I like her reaction. How her body tenses and fear sweeps over her. The idea of forcing my cock into her tight arse keeps me up at night, but she’s tired.
I spread her thighs, hooking one hand under her knee to create more room. It’s easy to slide into her pussy, she’s so wet.
I shove all the way forward, our hips slamming together. Pinning her down, I suck her tongue into my mouth, needing her everywhere. She’s the one who starts to rock, desperate for friction.
“Just like that,” I goad her, always so amused to watch her glaze over as she sinks into the sensation of satisfying her primal urges.
She’s clay in my hands, letting me slam into her over and over again. I bite her tits, sucking one into my mouth. She tears at my hair, but her pussy clamps as she tumbles into oblivion.
I continue to play with her body, thrusting in and out. Her head rolls, her mouth falling open, and then just the realization that she’s my perfect rag doll has me coming. When I slide out of her, I force my cum back into her pussy, her muscles twitching as I do so.
She whines when I force her to use the bathroom, but I don’t have time to hear her bitching about a UTI. I clean her off quickly and tuck her back into bed.
Then I press a kiss to her lips. “Good night, princess.”
Adeline twists and curls in her sleep, whimpering like she’s got a bad dream.
In my sleep, I reach a hand out, but before I make contact, she flies from the bed. The sheets whip away, the cold night air slapping my skin. The bathroom door slams shut while I’m left blinking.
“Ad-Adeline?” I rub sleep from my face, nearly tripping over the sheets. She’s locked the damn door. “Princess, what’s wrong?”
There’s the sharp noise of the toilet lid.
“Adeline?” I knock.
“Go away!” she orders.
“Adeline.”
There’s the unmistakable noise and smell of her sickness.
“Princess, let m—”
“Get the fuck away!” she orders, heaving after each word.
I scrub my face. “Is there—”
“Now!”
I grab my phone and see that it’s only midnight. We’d only been asleep a couple of hours. I walk into the living room, landing on the sofa. She retches again while I lie there, staring up at the ceiling. The clock ticks away, and the bathroom door remains firmly shut.
“Adeline?” I softly ask, knocking on the door again. “What do you need?”
“Please just go away.”
I know there’s nothing that can be done until it’s out of her system, but the weak chords of her words pluck at me.
I mope around the flat, my stomach twisting.
Is she meant to sound so violent when she pukes?
I crack open a window, allowing fresh air into the flat.
I check emails because it seems wrong to sleep.
The sky lightens to a gray, the storm clouds thick.
It’s only when most people are getting up that a hush descends on the flat, a static calm pressing over my eyes.
A bang on my front door has me blinking awake again. I run a hand through messy hair, my gaze going toward the bedroom where the bathroom door is still firmly locked. Adeline’s been quiet the past two hours, but the last time I checked on her, I’d gotten a watery plea to leave her alone.
The banging on the door is insistent, the noise cutting through the oppressive sleep clinging to me. My phone says it’s almost nine, further messing me up. I’m never at home during this time. I shuffle toward the door, peering out the peephole.
I swing it open before I think better. Gia Akatov stares at my naked torso, her eyes scanning the ink curling around my ribcage.
Thank fuck I’d put on sweats at some point during the night, when it felt wrong to pace around naked.
But admittedly, being fully clothed in front of Adeline’s mother would have been ideal.
“Did she call you?” I ask, running a hand through my hair again.
Gia has a strange look on her face. Her brown eyes are almost the exact shade of Adeline’s. Her hair is perfectly blown out, and her clothes, while casual, are tailored and expensive. She angles her head when I speak, her lips pursed.
My question merely makes her eyes narrow. Beside her are two armed guards, and they have no intentions of fading into the background like Adeline usually prefers.
I step back from the door. Gia’s steps are controlled, measured. She is coiled tight, staring at me like I’m prey. The moment she’s in the living room, she stops. Studying the room, there’s a question on her face.
“She’s in the bathroom.” I jerk my head in the direction of the bedroom.
The guards conduct their own sweep, but Gia lifts a hand, silently telling them not to enter the bedroom.
With her brow puzzled together, she turns her back, marching toward her daughter. Leaving me alone with two guards who stare me down in my own living room.