Page 12 of Duncan (Irish Mob of Boston #1)

Duncan

I sat on the bed and watched her sleep. I’d been doing it for hours, waiting for the sun to rise. I didn’t want to wake her but fuck if I would leave without saying goodbye.

Freyja stirred, and my hand found her hip. One eye peeked open, and she looked up at me.

“You’re dressed.”

“I am,” I sighed.

Sitting up, she leaned against the headboard. “You’re leaving,” she surmised. And I tried not to smile at the disappointment in her voice.

“I have business to attend to. I ordered you breakfast, though. I still have two more days before I have to return to Boston. I’d like to spend as much of that with you as I can.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, and I reached over to pull it back. I loved the way it framed her face. A vision of her riding my cock, her hair falling over her shoulders, had me stiffening. I reached down to adjust myself into a more comfortable position, and Freyja smiled.

“You find something amusing, mo bandia ?”

“Just wondering if you were thinking about the same thing I was.”

I leaned closer. “If you were thinking about riding my cock, then yes. If you weren’t, then I need to do a better job.”

I kissed her before she could respond, and her hand went to my cheek. I pulled her onto my lap and tilted her head back, deepening the kiss.

She shuddered in my arms, and I knew I would have a wet stain on my lap if I wasn’t careful.

I hadn’t planned on staying in New York.

But yesterday’s trip to the store ensured I had two more suits to wear while I was here.

I stood her up between my legs and pulled her close with my hands firmly on her ass.

I buried my face between her breasts. The fact that they were small enough she didn’t need a bra was a big fucking plus in my book. I circled my tongue around her nipple, and she moaned into the room.

“I thought you had to leave,” she stated breathlessly.

“I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

Grabbing her waist, I picked her up and laid her back on the bed. Her legs fell open. An invitation I didn’t need, but appreciated. I licked and kissed her pussy, driving her quickly up and over the peak. Letting her crash just as the knock sounded on the door.

Rising from my knees, I kissed her again, letting her taste herself on my tongue. “There’s a robe in the closet. Come have breakfast with me before I go.”

I left the room and answered the door. The attendant rolled the cart into the room, and I peeled off a few bills and handed them to him before hurrying him back out the door.

I didn’t need his help to serve Freyja, and I sure as fuck wasn’t letting him see her in nothing but a robe.

She didn’t come right to the table, instead she walked to the window and picked up her dress. Laying it over her arm, she smiled at me.

“I guess I’ll be doing the walk of shame. Sans panties.” A perfectly contoured brow hitched up high, and I shook my head at her boldness of calling me out.

“You could stay here, naked until I get back.”

I didn’t move from my seat at the small table. I might have admitted to myself that she owned me. But I wouldn’t tell her that. She needed to come to me. Preferably on her hands and knees.

“My family will want to see proof of life.” She laid the dress on the chair and walked toward me. Instead of taking a chair, she sat on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. “When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure.” My arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to me. “I’ll stop by the desk and have them issue you a key. You can go home, change, and pack a bag.”

“Why am I packing a bag?” she asked, pulling back.

My hands went to her back and pulled her back to my chest. My teeth clamped onto the lobe of her ear before I whispered, “Because you’re staying with me tonight.”

“Pretty bold to assume I was looking for a repeat performance.” She tilted her head, giving me access to her neck. Her actions contrary to her words.

“ Mo bandia , you passed out when I was done with you last night. Don’t lie and tell me you don’t want more.”

“Maybe.” The word came out on a gasp when I parted the robe and pinched her nipple.

“Your body doesn’t lie like you do,” I accused, a smile easily heard in my words.

I lifted her off my lap and stood. “Eat. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back. I expect you in bed, waiting for me.”

“And what if I’m not?” Her sass was an aphrodisiac I wouldn’t let her know about.

“Then last night’s punishment will feel like your favorite treat. Don’t test me, Freyja. I want you naked in my bed when I get back. Bring something to wear to dinner, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll take you out when I’m finished with you.”

I kissed her hard, then walked away. Giving her no recourse to deny me. Like I told her I would, I stopped at the desk and had them prepare a key. Giving them her name, they assured me she would get it.

If she wasn’t waiting for me later, it would be her choice. What she didn’t know was I wouldn’t chase after her. Last night was the single greatest night of my life. But if she didn’t feel what I felt, it wouldn’t matter.

By the time I left the hotel, it was almost eight-thirty. I strolled into the deli as though I didn’t have a dozen or more men waiting for me.

“Glad you decided to join us,” Callum said with a knowing grin on his face. I liked Callum. He was smart, and he was loyal. And if you betrayed him, well... let’s just say no one betrayed him twice. He didn’t allow second chances.

“Fuck off.”

Cian gave me a look, and I knew he wasn’t happy with the phone call this morning. He was playing with fire where Caity was concerned, especially if that was in fact another woman I heard in the background.

“You good?” I asked him.

“Always.” That was all he would offer on the disagreement from this morning.

“Alright. What do we know?”

Cian handed me a printout of a call log. Several highlighted numbers appeared on the list. One I recognized immediately.

“Tell me the son of a bitch is not using the same goddamn phone.”

“Yes and no.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked, looking at Cian.

“Someone spoofed his number to another phone. So, while his phone is off, probably destroyed, he can still use the same number on another phone.”

“Are you fuckin’ with me? Tyran isn’t smart enough to figure that shit out.”

“That’s what led us to Garritt,” Callum offered.

My eyes shot to Callum. He sat on the edge of a desk in the deli’s office. Garritt Mahoney, the man currently hanging in his own walk-in freezer, inherited this business from his father, who had inherited it from his grandfather. Three generations of Irish-American business gone with one fuckup.

Callum motioned to his son, Niall.

“We started in-house,” Niall explained. “With Irish-owned businesses in the area where Tyran disappeared. We spoke with the business owners to see who would act squirrelly.”

“I take it Garritt did.”

“No,” Niall answered.

Taking a deep breath, I said to myself. I will not lash out. I will not bloody my knuckles on this kid’s face. Not when they would be on Freyja’s body tonight.

“Speed it up, kid,” Mac warned.

I eyed him, silently thanking him, and he nodded.

“Garritt is a nervous guy. All the time. There isn’t a conversation he’s had in the thirty years he’s been alive when he didn’t act squirrelly. Until yesterday. The guy was fuckin’ calm as a cucumber.”

“Where the fuck does that saying come from?” Oscar asked.

“Cucumbers are cool to the touch, even when it’s hot as hell outside, due to their high water content. Basically, it means you’re able to control yourself in tense situations and not get hot. Letting your temper get the best of you,” Liam explained, and I turned to glare at him. “Sorry, boss.”

I liked Liam McGuire. He was smart. He had a good head for business and he was a great leader. But he was a fucking walking encyclopedia and couldn’t help but answer every fucking question someone asked.

“How the fuck did we get to Garritt?” I growled, my patience wearing thin.

“Like I said, he was acting strange—”

“By not acting strange?” I asked, and Niall nodded. I waved my hand, silently telling him to continue, and then rubbed my chin and the side of my face. I’d forgotten to shave this morning. Too busy watching the goddess asleep in my bed.

“So, we ran his phone records. Saw Tyran’s number multiple times as well as two others.”

“So, we have two other assholes helping him out?”

“Yea,” they all answered together.

“Have you run those numbers?” I asked, turning to Cian.

“Yea, I fuckin’ ran them. They’re burner phones. The name on the phone is bullshit. And I can only trace a location if they’re turned on,” he grumbled.

He hated it when we questioned his abilities, but the fucker didn’t offer up information in front of just anyone. Especially guys we didn’t work closely with. No, instead he made me ask. Then got pissed that I asked him for the information he knew I knew he had.

He had gotten surlier since Caity had moved back to Boston. He wasn’t handling it well, having her in the same city and not being able to claim her as his.

“Ok, so we need Garritt to tell us who the other two numbers belong to. Have you tried contacting Tyran? Maybe texting him from Garritt’s phone and set him up to meet on our terms?”

No one said a word as I looked around the room. “What? No one thought of that?”

“We thought about it. Even did it, boss,” Mac said, and handed me a phone.

Nice try, assholes.

“FUCK!” I shouted and threw the phone across the room, watching it shatter when it hit the wall.

“Good job, boss.”

I glared at Cian. “Fuck off. You get everything from it?”

“Yea.” He smirked.

“Good, then you don’t fuckin’ need it, anyway. Have you tried calling the other two numbers?”

The look on Cian’s face told me he wanted to hit me. He wouldn’t do it, though. Not here. When we got home, all bets would be off. But in this room, I outranked him, and he would never disrespect me in front of the others.

“Yea, both were turned off,” he said, his jaw clenched tight.

Everyone in the organization knew how Cian got when he couldn’t find the information he wanted. The fact that burner phones were virtually untraceable pissed him off.

His frustration with backdoor technology kept the others from noticing the tension between us. Except Mac. He knew us both well enough to know something was going on but wouldn’t let on.

We would deal with it privately, when we got home.

“Ok, let’s go talk to this shitbag. Oscar, you’re up.” The young man smiled and grabbed the two-foot pipe wrench that had been laying against the wall.

Oscar Brady was unhinged. It was the only way to describe him. Another kid whose father used his fists as tools for discipline. Oscar was a good kid, loyal. But something had disconnected in his brain from being beaten one too many times. Either that or he’d been that way from the start.

It worked well for us. Oscar didn’t have a conscience. The things he did for the family didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

I followed Callum into the walk-in freezer where he had Garritt Mahoney strung up like a side of beef.

“Cal, I told you. It wasn’t me.”

Callum grabbed Garritt by the chin, yelling in his face. “Then tell me who it was, Garritt? Tyran didn’t disappear into thin air. His ass is too fuckin’ big for that!”