Pointe & Possession, page 7
“But?” I questioned.
“But, if he’d taken from a woman who wasn’t willing, I would make it slow. I would let- I’m sorry, what was your name?” she asked Finn, who stood at the front of the room beside the door.
He stepped forward and dipped his head respectfully. “Finn, ma’am.”
“Just Rory will do, Finn,” she said, repeating her words to Ebony earlier.
“Of course, ma’am.” She gave a droll look and rolled her eyes at Finn.
“Anyway,” she said as she leaned back into my chest. I liked the way she felt there, warm and soft, her slight weight a comfort I didn’t know I’d needed. I settled one of my hands on her hip, the other on her thigh. “If a man had taken from a woman without her permission, I’d let Finn have a go at them. He’s a pretty big guy. Looks kind of scary. I bet he knows his way around bodily harm.” Finn snorted, but quickly schooled his features back to his usual impassiveness as he passed a hand over his mouth, wiping the grin away. “And when Finn was done, I’d let you have him.” She nodded to me. “And when you are done, I’d slather his cock in honey and lock him in a room with rats. And then I’d let you kill him,” she finished, a hard, violent edge to her voice as she let her gaze finally settle on the man across from us.
Connor shifted uncomfortably while Carson cupped his dick and crossed his legs. Finn was as impassive as ever, but I could tell by the redness in his cheeks that he was having a hard time keeping his face blank. Sean was white as a ghost, sweating and shaking, eyes scanning the room for an escape. I flicked my gaze up to the two men behind him, and they both settled a meaty hand on one of his shoulders.
“Thank you for your input, mo solas. I’ll take that into consideration.” I kissed the curve of her jaw. “You’ve had a busy day. Did Ebony show you to your room before she retired for the evening?” I continued our conversation as if we hadn’t just been discussing torture and murder.
“She didn’t, but she showed me to the kitchen and that was even better. Orla made dolce cheesecake.”
“Is there any left?” Connor piped up, sitting up in his chair, face bright.
“I ate it all.” She gave him a false look of disappointment. “Sorry,” she said with a shrug that said she wasn’t sorry at all. He deflated, sitting back in his chair with a sullen expression.
“I’ll show you to your room, then.” I eased her off my lap and stood next to her. As we passed Finn I mumbled, “Take him to the shed,” and led Rory from the room.
I guided her up the stairs, pointing out rooms she might like along the way. A library, a game room, a theater room. I pointed to my room as we passed. “This is my room. The door is usually locked when I’m not here, but it’s always unlocked if I’m in the house.” I stopped at the next door. “This is your room. If there’s anything not to your liking, let me know and we can change it. There is a door connecting our rooms, but that’s from when it used to be a nursery. You have your own attached bathroom. Your things have already been placed inside. If there’s anything you need, you can let me or Ebony know.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. “Um…Did I do okay? I know I kind of inter-”
“You did not interrupt, solas. I asked you to come to me when you were finished eating. I told you to join us. Did it make you uncomfortable?”
She scraped at her cuticles with her thumb nail and I pinched the digit between my fingers, bringing it up and gently rubbing it between my fingers. She watched our fingers for a moment and then said, “No, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I was afraid of disappointing you and nervous to speak in front of all your men. I haven’t been welcomed in situations like that, ever. It was a first for me.”
“You did perfectly, mo solas.”
She blushed prettily but a small frown made a line between her blonde eyebrows and she picked at the cuticles on her thumb again.
“Downstairs, you said that you have…women in your employ. Did you mean…” She trailed off but I got her meaning.
“I own two brothels, but I assure you, solas, the women that work there do so because they want to. They know they are free to leave at any time. They do things the way they want to do them, they take only the clients they want to take, and they keep sixty-five percent of their profits. Their only rules or requirements are in place to keep them and their clients safe.”
Her shoulders dropped and she sighed in relief. “So, they aren’t forced to be there? They aren’t…trafficked?”
I smiled softly at her concern. She was so caring and soft-hearted, but could still be strong and determined when needed. “No, solas, they are there because they want to be. When one of our girls chooses to leave, she takes a generous severance package to set her up until she figures out what she wants to do next. Each girl has an assigned guard that stands outside their door when they are with a client and if things get out of hand, or if she feels uncomfortable, she only has to shout her safe word and the guard interferes. I take care of the girls, and in return, they are loyal.” I rested my free hand on the side of her cheek, looking between her eyes and then allowing my eyes to dip to her lips. I swallowed heavily and when I spoke, my voice came out gravelly. “I’d really like to know what Orla’s cheesecake tastes like on your tongue.”
She blushed prettily, her entire face turning red. But she licked her bottom lip and swallowed, before taking a step closer to me.
I didn’t devour her like I wanted to. I kissed her gently at first, allowing her to relax. Once she sighed into my mouth, I used my thumb to tug her chin down and slipped my tongue inside. I groaned as my tongue rubbed against hers and I got a faint taste of dolce cheesecake and cigarette smoke. Her little hand gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me against her. I slid my hand from the side of her neck and up into her hair.
When she moaned and began to wiggle against me, I backed away and rested my forehead against hers, our panting breaths mixing together. I rubbed my nose in her hair again, enjoying the smell of something minty and floral.
She pushed her forehead into my face gently and sighed. “Are you going to kill him?”
I pulled away from her. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
“Actually, it doesn’t. I know you want to involve me, but…would you mind if I asked to be kept out of that part of the business?”
“Of course not, solas. I would never ask you to dirty your hands like that.”
She smiled gratefully. “So…Elio’s going to send the new contract tomorrow. When will the wedding be?”
“It will be fast. Within the next two weeks. I don’t want to give Elio time to retaliate or come up with more ridiculousness to add to the contract.”
Her eyebrows raised. “Oh, so fast? Okay.” She paused. “Will it be a very large wedding?” She nibbled on her bottom lip and I pulled it from between her teeth.
“Not if you don’t want it to be. You don’t like being the center of attention, do you?”
She shook her head. “I know it will need to be somewhat of a spectacle, but I’d like to keep it modest, if you’re okay with that.”
“Of course, mo solas. We can discuss it tomorrow, okay? We will also need to discuss making a public appearance. I was thinking Monday evening, after your rehearsal. Get some rest tonight and we can talk tomorrow.” I kissed her gently again and walked back down the hallway, ready to take care of the fecker in the shed.
13
Callahan
I looked at Sean, tied to the chair in the middle of the small shed. Finn had already stripped the man and had clearly had his fun with him. Bruises littered his face and torso, his left eye swelling and blood dripping from his mouth, leaving red streaks on his torso.
I walked calmly towards him, shoving my hands in my pockets to appear casual. “So, Sean, you’ve been quite busy lately, haven’t you?” I asked in a politely conversational tone.
“N-n-no, sir! I promise! I didn’t do any of that stuff you were talking about!”
“Well, see, I heard different. Some of the girls from Nirvana came to me personally claiming that you assaulted them and then refused to pay. Finn,” I gestured to my right hand man, “placed a tail on you weeks ago. You were seen taking a cut from the payment you picked up from the bakery. You left Nirvana without paying, even though you had seven thousand dollars OF MY MONEY IN YOUR POCKET!” I yelled in his face, my hands braced on the arms of the chair he was tied to. He flinched back and pulled against the ropes keeping his arms in place behind him.
He whimpered pathetically and his eyes bounced around the room, landing on the table to the side that had an assortment of weapons and tools neatly displayed. He began stuttering an unintelligible mix of apologies and excuses.
“I swear, sir! I swear! I didn’t do it! It was- it was- uh, James! It was all James! It was his idea! He did it! He just gave me the money! I didn’t know it was your money! I didn’t do anything! You don’t have to do any of the shit that bitch said! She’s crazy! She’s a fuckin’ psycho man!”
My anger immediately burned so hot, it felt like ice in my veins. My teeth gnashed together and my nostrils flared. I glanced at Connor and Carson, posted behind him with their hands folded in front of themselves, anger on their faces at the insults casually thrown at Rory.
Carson stepped forward and slapped a hand over Sean’s still rambling mouth.
“Stop. Talking.” Menace filled my tone, my body vibrating with anger. The muffled rambling stopped and Sean’s eyes went wide. I took a deep breath and removed my jacket as I strolled towards the tool table, casually passing my jacket to Connor, who folded it over his arm and resumed his stoic position along the back wall. I perused the tools available to me as I rolled my sleeves up to my elbows.
His words echoed in my head and I turned from the table empty-handed, deciding I wanted to feel his punishment under my fists. I returned to my spot in front of him, my hands in my pockets and my head tilted to the right, schooling my features into a look of contemplation. I sighed dramatically.
“Do you know who that woman was?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.
Sean shrugged as much as his bound arms would allow. “I’ve never seen her. I assumed she was just some fling, since you’re engaged to the Italian whore.”
I huffed a breath, laughing at his stupidity, the casual way he throws insults at women. “While I agree with your assessment of my former fiancée,” I said as I pulled my hands from my pockets, watching him tense further, “that woman is Aurora Rossi. She is my current fiancée. She’s the woman I’ve been following around like a lost fecking puppy for weeks just on the off chance I’d get to see her glowing hair again, or the way her brown eyes look like melted honey in the sunlight, or maybe I’d even get a glimpse of the smile that lights up her face like a fecking christmas tree. That bitch,” I said, my tone dripping in anger, “is mo solas beag. She is the woman I will marry. She is the woman that will give me children. She is the woman who will rule beside me like a fecking queen.”
Sean gulped and pissed his pants as I spoke, his whole body trembling and tears streaking through the blood on his face. I grimaced at the mess puddling on the floor of my shed and rolled my eyes at his blubbering and begging. I glanced at Carson again. “Shut him up.” Carson’s hand slapped over Sean’s mouth again.
Finn and I took turns at him, giving him moments of rest to regain consciousness and then starting again. When he was a swollen, bloody pulp, I washed my hands in the sink next to the tool table and dried my hands with some paper towels, looking at the bleeding man with disdain.
I threw the towels in the trash, unrolled my sleeves and took my jacket from Connor, slinging it over my shoulders. I turned towards the door, casually fixing my sleeves. “Do everything Aurora wanted done to him. Make sure he lives through it, until the very end.” Sean let out a sound, too loud to be a whimper but too quiet to be a scream, and I pursed my lips, meeting his bloody gaze before flicking my eyes to Finn. “Start with his tongue. Let him recover a few days so he’s lucid and knows exactly why he’s losing his ability to speak.”
Finn grinned and Conner and Carson let out identical chuckles. “Yes, sir,” Finn said, setting about making arrangements for Sean to recover in one of our holding cells as I left the shed.
On the way back to my room, I contemplated my visceral reaction to Sean’s insults toward Rory. I prided myself on my calm demeanor. The men in my employ were expected to behave the same way. We all strove for professionalism and decorum. I never let my emotions dictate my reactions. So why was I so overtaken by anger because a half-dead man had insulted her?
Despite my musings, I knew the answer. It was plain as day, heavy as a boulder sitting on my chest, spreading warmth and light through me.
I was falling for her. I was halfway in love with a woman I barely knew. I was borderline obsessed with her beauty, mesmerized by her strength, insanely protective of her safety, overly-concerned about her feelings…
Yeah, I was a fecking idiot.
At this point, I could only hope she would eventually return my feelings.
14
Rory
Two days later, Cal and I sat in the back of his luxurious car as Seamus drove us to Primo.
Where are we going?” I ask as I watch the familiar cityscape go by.
“It’s Monday. You have ballet,” he said as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be headed to a ballet studio on Monday afternoon.
“I can’t believe you want to come watch me rehearse,” I said, rubbing my hands on my jeans self-consciously. “It’s going to be so boring for you.”
He chuckled, the sound almost deprecating in nature. “Solas, if you only knew.” He trailed off, and I stared at his profile, but he seemed remarkably interested in something on his phone, disinclined to elaborate further.
So, naturally, I pushed for more because what in the world did that mean?
“What do you mean by that?” I asked quietly.
He made a face, half grin, half grimace, and rubbed his fingers on his temple before meeting my gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it before any words escaped. When he did speak, I knew that what he said wasn’t what he’d started to say and found myself wondering what he was hiding.
“I like watching you dance. The way your body moves is mesmerizing. It’s truly beautiful, like watching an artist paint something that will eventually end up a timeless classic.”
My brows raised at his unexpected, poetic response and I grinned, fighting back a full smile. “You like watching me dance?” I questioned. Maybe it was petty, maybe it was vain, but I liked knowing he enjoyed watching me dance. I wanted to hear him say it again.
“Yes. At the party, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from you.” He seemed to be examining my expression closely, so I let the smile I’d been holding back stretch my cheeks. His eyes roamed my face, settling on my mouth for a long moment before he swallowed heavily, cleared his throat and focused back on his phone.
I smiled to myself, rolling my lips between my teeth to contain my happiness, and watched out the window as we made our way towards Primo.
When we arrived, Finn stationed himself by the front door and I went to the changing room, followed by Connor and Carson, who stopped outside the door and forbade anyone else from entering until I exited again.
Cal’s eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t name as his gaze raked my body. I wore sheer tights today, with the pointe shoes I’d worn to the party, and his gaze locked on my legs. His hands curled into fists and his jaw ticked as he swallowed. I shifted nervously and his eyes met mine again.
“You look incredible in your dance clothes.”
I blushed and glanced at the men, who were studiously ignoring us. “Thank you,” I said, looking at the ground before meeting his eyes again. “I have a private rehearsal scheduled today, but you can come in, if you want to.”
“Lead the way,” he said in that deep voice that sent mini-shivers cascading over my skin.
When we entered the room, Angelique’s eyes scanned the three men following me before meeting mine.
“C’est pres?” she asked, ignoring the men. I didn’t speak French, but I’d learned enough since I enrolled at Primo to understand her broken English.
“Oui, madame.” I took first position and waited for her to sort the music and tell me which routine to start on.
“Swan Lake, Act II,” she said, just before the music started. I met Cal’s eyes in the mirror, took a deep breath, and started the routine. I wanted to impress him. With my eyes on his, it felt like the room melted away. There was no sixty-year-old, angry French woman barking at me, there weren’t two other men watching, it was just Cal and me. His eyes stayed on mine, for the most part, but they occasionally roamed my body, stroking the bend of my waist or the arch of my leg like a physical caress.
Every time Angelique would correct my posture, tapping my knee, foot or elbow with her cane, Cal tensed. By the end of rehearsal, I was flushed and needy in a way I had never experienced before. I was breathing much harder than I normally would have after a rehearsal and knew that was because of Cal’s eyes on me.
Angelique spoke quietly to me in her broken English, using French for words she didn’t know. “Je suis désolé, mon chérie, but your père is not paying for more lessons.” She waved her hand in a circle as she tried to think of the English words for what she wanted to say. “Maybe you could teach les enfants? You teach them, I teach you?” She raised her eyebrows and nodded, obviously proud of the solution she’d come up with, but my heart sank.
“That would be fun, but…” My eyes flicked to Cal, who watched us curiously from a few feet away. “I’m getting married. I won’t have the time to dedicate to classes.” I smiled sadly at her as I lifted my bag onto my shoulder. As soon as the strap settled against my skin, it disappeared.
Cal settled the bag on his own shoulder and turned to Angelique. A string of French left his mouth, so rapidly, so fluidly that I only caught three words. Private. Money. Problem. I gaped at him and they conversed in flawless French. When she smiled and patted his arm before hobbling off, I blinked at him blankly.
