Page 23 of Sins of Arrogance (Syndicate Sins #1)

MICK

When I make it back to the apartment, Fitz and Kara are already in his bedroom. I'm not surprised to find my wife snuggled next to our son on his bed, reading him a Little Golden Book story about Spidey and His Amazing Friends.

Purring, Gobby is curled up on the other side of Fitz.

Kara doesn’t acknowledge me standing in the doorway to our son's bedroom. Doesn’t even pause when I walk in, like my presence doesn’t matter.

I don't like it. I miss when her attention used to fixate on me when I was in a room.

Now, I fixate on her. Whether we're sharing breathing space, or not.

Fitz notices me though and grins. "Hi, da. Mommy said you could read me another story if you got here in time."

But she'd been prepared to put him to bed without me saying goodnight. I don't know why that knowledge stings.

I'm rarely home before Fitz's bedtime any night but Sunday. But I told them I would be here to tuck him in tonight, didn't I?

If something urgent had come up, I would have texted to say I couldn't keep my promise to Fitz. And there's not much I can think of that would make me break a promise to my son.

Clearly, my wife doesn't see it the same way.

"Have you got your second book already picked out then?" I move to stand beside Kara, making it impossible for her to stand without brushing her body along mine.

"Yep. I knew you'd come," Fitz says confidently as he pulls a book from under his pillow: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

My son loves superheroes, but only the cheeky ones.

When it's my turn to read, Kara gives me a look, expecting me to step back. I don't. Giving me a look of exasperation that Fitz can't see, she stands up, trying to keep her breasts and belly from touching me.

It doesn't work. My wife's curves are too luscious for avoidance at close quarters. I don't sit beside Fitz like she had been doing, but lift my son to sit in my lap and then pull my wife down to sit beside us.

She's stiff as a board beside me, trying to keep her distance, but again…not possible on the small twin bed.

Unhappy with the lack of space for him to lounge on the mattress, Gobby jumps into Fitz's lap and he hugs the cat.

Putting my arms around my son, I open the book in front of us so he can see the pictures as I read.

Then I slide one arm around my wife and offer the other side of the book for her to hold. "Will you turn the pages, Kara?"

The glare she gives me could peel paint, but she does it.

Fitz yawns, snuggling into me. "I wish bedtime could always be like this."

"Me too, a mhac ." Before the birth of my son, I didn't cuddle.

Not even Kara.

However, since she came home from The Marlowe Center, I can't sleep if she's not wrapped in my arms where I know she's safe. Fitz and I bonded in a special way while she was there and he wouldn't sleep unless I rocked him.

I'm not sure when I slipped back into the habit of working such long days and being gone at night sometimes too.

But it was before Fitz went to preschool.

Was that when Kara started distancing herself from me? If I spent more time with her and Fitz would she go back to the way she was?

With no certain answer to that question, I read Fitz his story. He's asleep before I finish and I tuck him and Gobby in before standing.

Kara leans down and kisses his forehead, murmuring a Gaeilge blessing for peaceful sleep before she straightens.

"Good night, mommy. G'night da," Fitz whispers with his eyes closed.

Kara doesn't head toward our bedroom like I expect, but returns to the main living area and puts the kettle on.

"That better be herbal tea you're drinking," I warn her. She needs her rest.

And I need her in our bed.

KARA

Mick's words are like tinder to the hot ball of anger inside me. And it goes whoosh, burning the last of my reticence about speaking my mind.

"What tea I drink is none of your business. I'm an adult and if I want to drink a pot of coffee, I will." Not that I want to.

Because our son wakes with the birds no matter what time I go to sleep.

But I could if I did.

I spin around to face my husband. "Shouldn't you be getting back to Dierdre? I'm surprised you were able to pull yourself away from your ex-girlfriend to tell your son goodnight."

His eyes flicker with surprise.

"I came down to get you, to remind you of your promise." Our son has been so fragile since Róise's kidnapping.

I wasn't going to allow Mick to let him down about tucking him in. So, I left Fitz playing a boardgame with one of our security detail, who has watched him for short times in the past, and went looking for my absent husband.

I'd expected to find him in his office, unaware of the time, not having a cozy chat with Dierdre in the sunroom, while she sat curled up like a kitten in my chair.

How much else of my place does she want to take?

All of it , a small voice in my head whispers.

Mick frowns. "I heard a noise, but then the night security showed his face."

It was Frank who clued me into where Mick was and with who. "Yeah, he was with me when I overheard you making a lunch assignation with her."

I'd gone hot with shame and hightailed it back to our apartment, not caring if Mick showed up to tuck our son in, or not. Part of me hoped he wouldn't.

Which isn't fair to Fitz, but just looking at Mick standing there so unconcerned over it all makes my stomach cramp in pain.

"It's lunch." He tunnels his fingers through his hair and sighs. "Not an assignation."

"Funny how you never have time to have lunch with me, but you'll drop everything to take her out for a meal." When was the last time Mick took me anywhere, just the two of us .

Bile rises in my throat, a memory of Dierdre saying those exact words less than thirty minutes before echoing in my head.

Just the two of us. Her and Mick.

Not me and Mick. And that's the story of my marriage, isn't it? We're not a couple. We're a contract.

Marrying me was his path to eventual control of the Shaughnessy Mob. Well, marrying me and getting me pregnant with our son.

Fitz's birth guarantees that Mick will become Boss of the Shaughnessy Mob when my father retires at the age of sixty-seven. Or earlier if Brogan dies. Which, in his line of work, is as likely a scenario as retirement.

Sometimes, I can't help wondering if I'm now surplus to requirements.

That's a phrase my English roommate from boarding school used to say. It's kind of perfect for how I feel though. Both in regard to my father and my husband.

Surplus to requirements .

"You have nothing to be jealous over. This is business." Those words are familiar too, only from a long time ago.

They didn't work then, and they don't work now. It all feels too familiar.

And yet, I can't stop my sarcastic retort from coming out. "Oh, yeah. It sounded like business."

Now, it's another voice echoing in my head. Younger and less sure of myself, but still my own. From that bad time after Fitz was born, when I was so jealous of the lawyer who worked for my dad and too closely with Mick (in my opinion back then anyway).

My mouth snaps shut and I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories, trying to push away the parallels.

"You had nothing to fear then, and you have nothing to fear between Dierdre and me now, mo chuisle ." Mick's assertion shows he remembers those words too.

Again, his assurances are no more comforting today than they were when I was a young mom. But I'm not the same.

I'm not.

And I won't let myself go there again. Not for anything. Turning away from my husband, I pull my feelings back inside, and bury them deep.

I. Am. Not. Going. There. Again.

MICK

Kara doesn't reply, but turns away from me, her posture stiff her shoulders rounded.

Bleedin' hell. I thought I wanted to trigger Kara's jealousy, but underneath it, I assumed she'd know that I don't want any other woman.

I'm jealous of her too. No other man is allowed to touch her and live. It's that simple. But I have no doubts about Kara's faithfulness.

Why is she doubting mine?

I step up close behind her and cup her shoulders, leaning forward to speak softly near her ear. "You know you're the only woman I want."

"Don't you mean the only woman you can have?" She shrugs, trying to dislodge my hands.

I slide them down her arms, and grasping them just above the elbow, I pull her back into me. Let her feel how hard I am. How hard she makes me.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn't let herself relax against me.

I lean down and kiss where her shoulder meets her neck, letting my tongue flick out to taste her.

Her skin always smells like flowers, but lately, there's a berries and cinnamon chaser.

The taste though? A bit of salt from sweat and the rest is pure Kara sweetness. I love the flavor of her pussy best of all, but every centimeter of her sates my tastebuds like nothing else can.

I lick a line up her neck, savoring her. Then I tug her earlobe with my teeth. "Only woman I crave."

Kara shudders, but still, she doesn't lean back.

My wife doesn't play hard to get. Something's going on with her and I don't know what it is.

It's not the first time. Kara is emotional, driven by her feelings. I barely have feelings.

"Dierdre is business, Kara."

"Are you trying to pretend I'm something else?" she asks, her breath hitching as I suck on her earlobe.

Spinning her around to face me, I growl, "You are my wife. The only woman who gets to touch me, the only woman I want to touch."

"She touched you. She was your lover." Kara's gaze darts away, like she's ashamed of her insecurity.

I will never feed her jealousy on purpose again. Tomorrow's lunch had better yield the information I need. But I'm not taking any chances. I'll put our blackgloves on her phone and digital footprint tomorrow.

"That was before we ever met and she never made me so hard, I came in my shorts." It's a hard thing to admit for a man who values control like I do, but damn, those first months of our marriage, when I couldn't bury my cock in her tight pussy?

If I didn't keep a physical barrier between me and her near irresistible cunt, I would have fucked her and damned the consequences.

I started using restraints the first month we were married.

Stopping myself from breaking the terms of the contract and fucking her got harder every night we shared a bed. But when her soft fingertips skimmed over my heated skin, it got ten times worse.

Kara loved being bound, my entire focus on her. She still does.

And the satisfaction I found in controlling every aspect of our lovemaking gave me a mindgasm before cum ever erupted from my aching dick.

I reach past my wife and flip the switch, turning off the kettle. "I have a better way to relax you, a stór ."

She shakes her head, but we're not going there. Sex is the one thing we always get right between us, an invisible tether, tying us together no matter what else is happening.

"Come with me. Be with me." I grab both of her hands and start walking backwards.

She swallows, but she doesn't try to tug her hands away. "Sometimes, I hate how much I want you."

"Does it help to know that I will always want you more?" I ask.

She bites her lip, disbelief shimmering in her vulnerable gaze.

How can she question my desire for her? "I'm the one that wakes you every night because I crave your body. You lay there, sleeping so peacefully and you'd stay asleep until morning, if I let you."

"Fitz wakes up early."

"Kara, I need you."

"You want my body."

"Bleedin' hell woman. I'm no liar." I might lack empathy for most people in the world, but I don't lie unless it's necessary.

And it should never be necessary between us. If I can't tell her something, I don't, but I’m not going to lie to her and she knows it.

"I think we define need differently, Mick. If I were gone, you'd find another way to sate your sexual appetite."

The sound that comes out of me borders on demonic. "Do not say that. You will not leave me."

Something in her eyes challenges that statement but she keeps her lips sealed

My control snaps and I yank her to me, lifting her up and carrying her the rest of the way to the bedroom.