Kissing up her neck, I bit the top of her ear and whispered, “don’t push me, Melody. I’m not above hiking this dress up and fucking you in front of all Chicago.”
“Ahh…” She moaned when I grabbed on to her breasts, both of us frustrated over the amount of fabric between my palm and her skin. I was already hard for her and the way she pressed into me, I’m sure she knew.
“Liam—we…can’t…now.”
Godfuckingdamn it.
Taking a deep breath, I let go of her and she grabbed on to the rail in front and tilted her head back.
“14 days, 3 hours, 20 something minutes, I think we’ve broken our record.” She turned to face me leaning against the rail, a growing smile on her face.
“Not having time to have sex is not a record I want break.” I frowned and placed my hands on either side of her. Two weeks. Two god-forsaken weeks—that was how long it had been since I had sex and I was starting to lose my fucking mind. Between both of our “jobs” and our kids, we didn’t have time. Before, we always made time…didn’t matter what was going on. “Acting like an adult and being reasonable is doing nothing but giving me blue balls. I’m far too sexy to be suffering from blue balls.”
She laughed, freely, and openly, but only ever for me and our children. “I wouldn’t say nothing. From what I hear The Mad Hatter is as terrifying as ever. Meanwhile, Bloody Melody is stuck in bureaucracy, and slowly losing her goddamn mind.”
“Honestly babe, I really don’t give a fuck right now,” I said and her eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Because…all I want to hear is our bed slamming up against the wall, you moaning underneath me and my heart racing as I slam my cock into you over and over and over again.”
Her brown eyes filled with lust. “Someone is confident in his abilities.”
“Well, you keep coming back for more, so how can I not be?”
“Then tonight it better go down exactly as you describe, Mr. Callahan.”
Cupping the side of her cheek, I couldn’t look away from her lips. “Or you’ll do what, Mrs. Callahan? You want me as badly as I want you, I bet you’re getting wet right now.”
She glared, but she didn’t deny it. Instead she brushed my hand off her face and changed the subject. “What happened with our guest in the Presidential suite?”
“He was treated in a very un-presidential manner, but lives,” I said and I could not stop myself from glancing down the length of her body.
Twenty-minutes…all we needed was a good…
“And…” She grabbed my chin and lifted my head back up to meet hers. “What did he say?”
“He cried out for his father like a bitch. I’m guessing he came here to prove to his father and the rest of the triad that he had balls…I took them away.”
“Everything in me says to kill him, Liam. To kill them all now before this escalates.” She said and crossed her arms over chest, pushing her breasts up, obviously to torture me. God. After all of these years, I was still addicted to her. “We have spent a long time slowly building a balance, Liam…we can never—”
“I know,” I said seriously. I kissed her forehead before resting mine on hers. “And if anything comes against us, we will do what we have always done.”
“Fight?”
“Win.”
TWO
“We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly.”
~ Margaret Atwood
MELODY
At eighteen I became the first ever female Boss of the Italian Mafia and to this day I can still remember, the shock, the horror, the disgust on their faces. How dare a woman try to lead them? It was not possible. It was not plausible and in their eyes, it was sin. I did not know my place. So one by one, they sent men after me, or brought men to replace me and one by one, I tore them down. I spared no one. No mercy. No fear. Just death. Not just to them, or the ones that sent them, but their families, their neighbors, and even their mailmen. I didn’t just kill them, I wiped them off of the face of the goddamn earth as a lesson to the next motherfucker who thought he could stand against me. It was lesson learned very quickly.
By twenty-four, I was married to the next Boss, the Ceann na Conairte, of the Irish Mob, Liam Alec Callahan. The Italians and the Irish were like water and oil. Our families had been at war with each other since their grumpy asses come off of the boat in the 1850s. To say our first meeting was anything but love at first sight would be an understand statement. I shot him. I’ve shot him a couple times in our marriage, to be honest. I’ve bruised ribs, broken fingers, and spit blood from my lips in my battles with him. He was just like the rest of them. He saw my breasts and for some reason thought that meant I wasn’t capable. But he too learned.
Now at 33, I stand as the most powerful woman in the goddamn state.