“I don’t care what anyone says. If you’re able to bring my rotten son to holy mass, then how bad a lass can ye be?” Saoirse Kelly announces so loudly at the entrance of the Holy Cross Cathedral, it’s a wonder that everyone already seated inside the church didn’t hear her.
“Enough of that, Saoirse. You’re scaring off the wee lass,” her husband, Niall, intervenes on my behalf, again avoiding looking at me much like he did on my wedding day. “Come with me, woman, before all of Boston hears ye,” he adds, pulling her away by the hand.
“Now, you just hold your horses, Niall. I’m curious at how Rosa got our stubborn son through the church’s doors without him kicking up a fuss. I can’t remember the last time he voluntarily came to hear Father Doyle’s sermon.”
“Stop busting his chops, Máthair. Tiernan was just here a week ago. Or did you forget he got married in this church?” Shay counters, his expression full of mirth.
I have to admit, when I asked to attend mass, I wasn’t thinking that the whole Kelly clan would attend, too. Aside from Colin, my immediate new family is all congregated here. If my mother-in-law wasn’t so shocked to see Tiernan here with me, I would have assumed this was a weekly ritual for all the Kellys.
“I know what I said, Shay. I said willingly, didn’t I?” Saoirse mumbles to her son, suddenly making me feel uncomfortable with my decision to come here.
‘Willingly,’ she said.
As if making it clear that I wasn’t the only one forced into this marriage.
“How about we stop the idle chit-chat and get to our pews?” Tiernan announces, sensing my unease.
“Aye, I agree,” Niall chimes in, successfully pulling his wife away and walking her down the church aisle to their seats.
Tiernan places his hand at the hollow of my back to urge me to follow his parents along. My face must be ten shades of red when his hand slips a little bit lower until he grabs a full ass cheek before I’m able to take a seat.
It’s official.
He really is the devil.
Hades at his worst.
Tempting God’s wrath right in his home of all places.
The man really has no shame.
Why I presumed he had any after all the things he did and said to me last night and again this morning is beyond me. Memories of what I let him do to me with his fingers, mouth, and cock have me fidgeting in my seat.
Virgen.
And the debasing things he said to me.
Slut.
Whore.
I have never in my life had any man speak to me that way.
My father would have had them hung and flung off the highest bridge by the ankles for everyone to know that talking to his chaste daughter in such a manner would be their death sentence.
It was degrading and demeaning.
And to my shame, I got off on it.
It was like I was another person. One who could do the most perverse things because he gave me carte blanche to do them. I never imagined sex could be like that. Francesco never once told me about this type of foreplay. I mean, I did catch some dirty talk on the few occasions I caught him red-handed with a woman, but nothing like this. I feel like I should bathe myself, head to toe, in holy water just to purify my soul. Because there is no question that my husband is determined to drag me to hell with him—one way or the other.
When I’m able to push all those carnal thoughts from my head, afraid that Christ will free himself from his cross just to spite me, I realize I’m smushed right in between the Kelly brothers. I only realize this now because Shay is manspreading his legs so wide, his knee is inappropriately rubbing against my bare leg every two seconds. I’m about to say something to him when he beats me to the punch, shifting in his seat just to try and grab his brother’s attention.
“Psst.”
“Psst.”
“Psst,” Shay whispers, placing his arm a little too close for comfort behind me and resting it on top of the pew rail.
“What?” Tiernan mumbles.
“Surprised to see you here, that’s all, brother. Come to confess your sins, have ye?” Shay taunts, leaning his head a bit back so he can face his brother.
Tiernan doesn’t so much as move, looking straight ahead.
“Aw, you still pissed at me?”
“As I recall, you’re the child who threw a tantrum yesterday.”
Shay shrugs.
“What can I say? I don’t like losing. Especially hard-earned cash.”
“You’ve never hard-earned anything a day in your life, brother,” Tiernan is quick to rebuke, a trace of a smile beginning to tug at his upper lip.
“Even so, I hate parting with five G’s like that. To Colin no less.”
“Didn’t Sister Riley teach you that gambling is a sin?”
“She taught me plenty, but not that.” Shay chuckles.
“Hmm,” Tiernan hums, and as he does it, my imagination goes back to his bedroom this morning and how he hummed against my wet slit, telling me how sweet I tasted. The memory is so potent, I can’t stop the shudder that runs down my body because of it.
To my utter mortification, both Kelly brothers see my involuntary reaction.
“I bet if I made a bet today, I wouldn’t lose, would I, dheartháir?” Shay’s eyes unashamedly skate over my body, completely uncaring that his brother is sitting right beside me. “Yep. Your wife looks properly fucked. Good on ye,” he whispers low enough for only his brother to hear, but not low enough that I don’t catch every word of his taunt.
It’s a miracle that my eyes don’t pop out of my head in both shock and embarrassment. It’s only when Tiernan’s hand goes to my thigh and gives it a squeeze that I realize Father Doyle is about to begin his sermon.
Shay hides his chuckle by feigning a cough, but then leans his lips into my ear.
“Can’t say that I blame him. If I was in his shoes, I’d make sure to have deflowered you right after you said I do on that altar there. Joder. Tal vez incluso antes de eso.”
I swallow dryly before snapping my head to his side to offer him my most displeased glower. But to my amazement, Shay is looking straight ahead, seemingly enraptured by the sermon taking place. He’s acting like he didn’t just say he would have screwed me before I ever made it up the aisle if he had been in Tiernan’s position. He’s so committed to the fa?ade that it almost makes me question my sanity and wonder if what just happened was all in my head.