The Dangerous Delaneys and Me Read online

  “Shut up,” he said roughly, but sounding almost affectionate, too. “I wanted to see if we could break you, and we did.”

  I couldn’t agree more. If this was what it felt like to be broken, then I swore I’d never waste time trying to gather up the pieces again. I was nothing if not a practical bloke.

  By the time we arrived at the twins’ home—mine, too, now—I was dressed and almost ready to stand. But nowhere near ready to meet Melissa’s gaze.

  As I stumbled into the fresh air, the large wet patch at my groin already cooling to the point of discomfort, my boss had exited the car and was studiously admiring the scenery.

  “Look …” I began, but she allowed me to get no farther.

  “No,” she said, holding up one beautifully manicured hand. “I really don’t want to know. But you might want to give your trousers a wipe.”

  “Yes, sorry.” I glanced down and covered the offending stains with my not quite steady hand. “I got a little over-enthusiastic in the car. I…um…find travel very exciting.”

  Melissa raised her eyes at that, but I could see the smirk at the edge of her mouth. “So it seems. I’m hoping the promised coffee will be soon, though at this rate, I might need a shot of brandy with it.”

  She was right. The Delaneys swept us all into their living room, and I found myself blushing to recall my first encounter with them there and how I’d entertained that client of theirs that night.

  Johnny nudged me as Mark gave the drinks orders to a passing henchman.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re not playing tonight. There’s a serious proposition to consider.”

  I’d thought the Delaneys’ meeting with their client back then had been pretty serious, all in all, even though the business in hand had been me, but I let it pass. Probably the wisest move.

  “Thank you, sir,” I whispered back. “I’d best go and get changed for it then.”

  Before Johnny could reply, I turned and made my way to the door, my mind already on overtime thinking about what I should change in to, depending on the sort of evening it might end up being. Mark’s sharp command brought me to an instant stop.

  “And where do you think you’re going?”

  I swung around, heart beating fast. “To get changed, sir. For our guest. I didn’t think you and your brother would want me like this.”

  As I spoke, I opened my arms so he could see what I meant, though no doubt he already knew. Johnny started to say something, but Mark silenced him with one of his looks and stalked right up to me so our noses were almost touching. Odd how I’d never thought about noses being sexy before, but in the twins’ case, they most definitely were. Heck, I was probably burbling, even in my own head. Still, I couldn’t blame myself.

  “Our guest?” Mark queried.

  Behind me, Johnny made a noise that was half growl and half groan. It sounded like he might possibly be on my side here, and this hope gave me the courage I needed.

  I took a small step forward and wrapped my arms around Mark’s neck.

  “For as long as you let me stay,” I whispered to him, but just loud enough so Johnny—and Melissa, too, if she chose—could hear. “For as long as that, then everything I am is yours, so I’m part of you and Johnny. So, yes, my boss is our guest just because she’s yours.”

  Then I kissed him. For a moment, his body was rigid against mine, but soon he returned my attentions in full, taking control of my lips and tongue, and everything else alongside. When we finished, he nodded.

  “Accepted,” he said. “Go and change, but don’t wash. I like you dirty.”

  Melissa made a strangled sound and waved one hand toward the drinks cabinet. “Time for my brandy, I think, if one’s on offer?”

  It was, as by the time I came back downstairs from changing, Melissa was well into her glass. I poured the coffee, which had miraculously arrived in my absence, and, in only a few moments, all four of us were thoroughly ensconced in the comfy seats. We were sipping at our coffee, itself strong enough to keep the Roman army awake for a month should they have turned up wanting to sample any. I had to admit the sight of us gathered together in this strangely sociable manner was rather surreal, but I imagined I’d have to get used to it. The Delaneys were my live-in Significant Others now or rather I was theirs.

  Mark took a gulp of his drink before setting the cup aside. He glanced at us all and exchanged a brief nod with Johnny before speaking.

  “Melissa, do you ever sell any paintings by Liam’s father?” he asked.

  Of all the questions in all the world, to coin a perfectly good phrase, I hadn’t had any idea Mark would want to ask this one. Not for the first time, it struck me I didn’t have a clue when it came to relationships.

  I thought my boss would laugh—I hoped she would—but she didn’t. Which just showed how right I was about me and relationships. Instead, she sat back, still nursing her brandy, and pursed her lips.

  “I used to,” she said, with a degree of hesitation I’d not seen in a while. “Liam’s father was a strong seller and hugely talented, too, but he’s not painted anything recently. Why do you ask?”

  Good question.

  Mark smiled.

  “Johnny’s been doing his research,” he said, “about Liam.”

  “I see.” Melissa frowned and glanced at me. “Is that entirely fair?”

  “Yes,” I said, on the edge of my chair before I realized it. “Is it? What’s going on here? Sirs?”

  I looked at both the twins, trying to work out what on earth they were up to, and whether I could head them off at the pass. After all, there were some things, surely, which should be private. Weren’t there? Johnny reddened and looked away, but Mark caught my gaze and held it.

  “Ah, Liam,” he said, leaning even closer toward me in a strange mirror gesture of the intimacy we’d so recently shared, although this time it was nothing like that. Nothing at all, as the promise of forgiveness was nowhere to be seen in his face. “Don’t you know in the end we find out everything? Because, as I say, Johnny’s been doing his research and it’s come to my attention you haven’t been entirely truthful with us, have you?”

  I swallowed and raised my chin a little as I continued to stare at him. “I didn’t think it mattered. And it doesn’t, not any more.”

  A silence and then Mark sighed. “You disappoint me. I didn’t ask whether you thought it mattered. I asked you to confirm if you’d lied to us.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, though, as my heart was right then filling it up, I wasn’t sure if I actually had any room for words, but Mark silenced me with a gesture.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. Not now, and certainly not during your punishment, which, I can assure you, will most definitely be taking place soon. For now I want you to stay there and be quiet, while my brother, Melissa and I have a pleasant conversation. Do you think you can do that?”

  I nodded. So I continued to sit as silently as Banquo’s ghost, while the twins talked to my boss about what she knew about and what I’d never told them.

  I used to paint.

  There, that was the truth, even though I’d lied about it to the Delaneys once before. I’d admitted it, if only in my own head and nowhere else. I used to paint. Not like my father did and not for long. His pictures were large and sweeping dramas of the outdoors and, no matter how much I’d tried—and believe me I did try—I was nowhere near as good as he was and never would be. Which was why I’d stopped, and I was much happier once I’d made the decision. Much happier.

  God alone knew why the twins had decided to resurrect the whole business, and God alone knew why Melissa was playing along with it. She’d seen my stuff so she knew.

  When I tuned back in to what they were saying, Mark was gazing expectantly at my boss, whose lips were pursed. Never a good sign. Johnny was merely looking thoughtful.

  “Before I answer,” Melissa said, presumably replying to a question I hadn’t heard, “before I say anything,
may I ask one important question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Thank you. Now, I know I’m not a connoisseur of the scene, but I’m very much one for protecting my staff and I wanted to make sure there’s a safe word involved in all this, isn’t there? And I don’t mean for me because I’m planning on leaving a long time before it gets any meatier and any ‘punishment’ takes place. But I do want to be certain, for Liam’s sake.”

  Johnny snorted with laughter, and Mark knit his brows together for a moment.

  “Yes,” he said, leaning back on the chair and glancing slowly ’round, taking us all in. “I’ve read about safe words. Johnny’s not the only Delaney who does his research. But what’s the point? What my brother, Liam and I do in our relationship is our own affair, not anyone else’s. I’m not planning to involve anyone else, not any more. If anybody wants to stop, then either they stop or they just say something. I’ve built a business on keeping things simple, so if it ain’t broke, why fix it?”

  Fair enough. I’d been wondering about this myself, and it was good to have the issue answered, once and for all. I couldn’t help smiling, so when Melissa looked at me for confirmation of Mark’s statement of sexual freedom, I was grinning from ear to ear like a chocoholic at Easter.

  She smirked. “Point taken. He certainly doesn’t look like a man who wants to say no. Thank you, Mark.”

  Before carrying on, Melissa paused and took another sip of her brandy. It struck me how we three men were now hanging on her every word, while she was milking every glorious second of it. I couldn’t blame her. I tended to do the same myself.

  “Yes,” she finally said. “Liam used to paint, and I’ve had one or two of his pictures in the gallery in the past, but they weren’t easy to sell.”

  “Why not?” This from Johnny.

  Melissa hesitated and, from under my fringe, I saw her glance at me.

  “Tell us,” Mark said. “We’re all adult enough to hear whatever you’ve got to say.”

  “Alright. Liam’s pictures didn’t sell as, although he has a lot of talent, they weren’t as good as his father’s.”

  Ouch indeed. I was all for honesty, and my boss had never been known to pull her punches, but I had to admit I drew in a breath. Loud enough for Mark to give me a stern look, but, hey, it wasn’t words, and I’d kept his command.

  “So he decided to give it up,” Melissa continued, “and work with art, rather that at it. And that’s what he’s been doing ever since.”

  “But what about the row with his father?”

  Despite all the threat of Mark’s fury, I opened my mouth to deny the existence of any such row—which had, in effect, been nothing more than a disagreement about my decision, and both my father and I were over it—when Johnny no doubt took pity on how much punishment I might actually be in line for and got in first.

  “I don’t think it was a full-scale row,” he said. “Not like the ones you and I have with folks. Nobody died anyway.”

  Mark shrugged. “A row is a row. It’s not my fault other people don’t have weapons or the will to use them.”

  “True. But all Mrs. O’Connell told me was how Liam’s father hadn’t wanted him to give it up, but Liam was determined this was exactly what he would do. We were only chatting, that’s all.”

  This last statement was directed at me, as now I was staring at him, eyes wide and jaw slack. Johnny had chatted with my mother? When had he done that? And, more importantly, what the hell else had they talked about? Visions of my mother getting a literal blow-by-blow account of what the twins and I had been up to lately filled my head, until I was ready to swear I’d be booking the nearest therapist the second I was allowed to talk again. But as I continued to stare at Johnny, he shook his head and grimaced.

  “I’m not sure Liam even needs to be able to speak to show us what he’s thinking,” he chuckled. “You’d never make it in our business. But no, we didn’t talk about anything you wouldn’t tell her yourself.”

  “Though she has seen rather more of us than would be expected at a first meeting,” Mark pointed out.

  Melissa’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her hair at this point. “No, don’t tell me. Please. Yes, I do know Liam and his father argued, but they’re fine now. All families have their moments.”

  Mark nodded and looked thoughtful. “Ours are short and tend to be terminal, for some.”

  That was certainly true. And nobody knew it better than the Delaneys, but at least my own father was still alive. Without warning, Mark spoke to me.

  “We could bring this particular problem to an end, if you wished it and if it still bothers you, Liam. Entirely up to you, of course, but I can recommend…”

  The sight of my wide and terrified eyes brought Mark to a stop, thank God, as I didn’t like to think of my father lying in a gutter somewhere in town with his brains blown out. My mother, for one, would never forgive me.

  “Ah,” said Mark, “I see my suggestion isn’t popular. You’re right about Liam’s eyes, Johnny. Good job he has other skills with his mouth. In fact, I can think of several things he can do very well with his mouth, which don’t involve words at all.”

  Melissa coughed and put down her drink with more force than she maybe meant to, as Johnny jumped and then tried to make it look as if he hadn’t. Which brought another bout of coughing from Melissa. I made a mental note to buy her a packet of throat sweets if it was the last thing I did, just as Johnny entered the fray.

  “Perhaps we should ask Melissa what we brought her here for first,” he said, “and then we can continue our evening.”

  Mark sighed, then nodded. “Yes, well said, little brother. Business before pleasure. So, Melissa, if Liam did decide to paint again, what would you recommend?”

  My boss patted the corner of her lips with the napkin and smiled. “He has talent, but I’d keep away from doing what his father does. Any artist has to find his own style and make it grow. That takes time, and balls, if I may say so.”

  Mark leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “Oh, you can say so, and don’t worry. Liam has the time, and we have the balls.”

  “Oh good,” she replied with a bright smile, then with one of those great leaps of logic which made her the boss and me the gopher, asked, “So what you’re asking me is if Liam brought something else, something different, to the gallery for consideration, would I think about taking it?”

  Johnny laughed, and even Mark looked impressed, though only for a moment or two before his customary dour expression returned.

  “Yes,” he said, “that’s what I’m asking. Liam’s family now, and we Delaneys always want what’s best for family. So what do you say, Melissa?”

  When she answered, she gazed right at me and paid the twins no heed at all.

  “I always have an open mind toward any artist who comes to me,” she said. “And I’ll be honest with my opinion, no matter who it is or whom they know. That’s my duty. But what I would say is this: Liam could do well if he decided to take up his art again and be committed to pursuing his own style. And, staff member or no staff member, I’d be interested in taking a look.”

  “Thank you,” said Mark. “That’s all we needed to know.”

  With that, the conversation moved on to other issues, but my head was too full of what Mark had said about us being family to take any of it in. It was a surprise when Melissa rose to leave.

  “See you on Monday,” she said. “Enjoy your weekend, Liam.”

  “That depends,” Mark muttered, his tone turning darker, “on how he takes his punishment for not telling us the entire truth. Because there has to be a reckoning, you understand, though we remain, of course, reasonable men.”

  Melissa merely smiled. “As I said, enjoy your weekend.”

  Then she was gone. I heard the murmurs at the front door as I continued waiting in the living room, a bark of laughter—Johnny’s—followed by the sound of the door clicking shut and footsteps returning down the hallway.
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br />   Time to face the music, though I still had some ideas of my own. When Mark came back, he strode right up to me, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, with a swiftness and style I had no idea I even possessed, I fell to my knees, had his zipper down and his cock in my mouth before he could even think of the words: you’d better take what’s coming and like it, Liam.

  He groaned and clutched at me as I sucked him to hardness, but I didn’t hear any objections, and he didn’t push me away, so I kept on going.

  “Liam?” he said after a few moments of thrusting and sucking.

  I didn’t know if the command for silence still applied and assumed discretion was still the better part of valor. In any case, with a mouthful of cock, saying anything sensible would have been impossible. Not that it mattered, as Mark continued to talk as he worked my throat.

  “Liam.”

  Thrust.

  “Just…”

  Suck.

  “because you…”

  Lick.

  “give a bloody good…”

  Another thrust.

  “blowjob…”

  Suck and lick. God, I was good.

  “it doesn’t mean to say…”

  Thrust, and…

  “Arrgghhh, yes!”

  Salt, warmth and his glorious man-taste on my tongue and down my throat, oh yes.

  Mark stepped back, cock dripping where I hadn’t been able to swallow everything. He rocked a little, eyes bright and forehead beaded with sweat, before gathering himself and leaning forward to where I continued to kneel at his feet.

  He coughed.

  “It doesn’t mean to say you’re in any way off the hook, my friend.”

  Ah. That’s what made him a successful gangster and me an art-gallery attendant. As Johnny’s steadying hand came to rest on my shoulder, I prepared myself for a night—I hoped—to remember.

  * * *

  I should have known the Delaneys would never let me down. Upstairs, Mark led the way to his bedroom, and Johnny and I scampered along behind, as was becoming usual. Once inside, Mark switched on the light and then pressed a button on the wall I hadn’t noticed before.