The Hurricane - Page 74/86

He had that little boy lost look about him again, the one that just wanted his own home and family. I climbed onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea. How about we go down to the bank tomorrow and open up a joint account. Maybe they can give us some advice about setting up a savings account to put the money into.”

He looked at me with his eyes at half-mast, and I knew exactly how we’d be spending the rest of Boxing Day.

“I fucking love you getting domestic, and I especially love it when you start talking numbers.”

“You fucking love everything about me,” I teased, knowing that he and the boys swore more than anyone that I had ever met.

“Well, I’m only gonna have one life, so I might as well spend it with someone I love everything about.”

With his lightning fast reflexes, he lifted me up and laid me down so that I was underneath him. Using his nose to push up my sweater, he held one hand on my arse and ran the other up and down my leg.

“Now, let me tell you why for the next few days, all knickers are surplus to requirements,” he explained, and being as totally hot for my husband that I was, I didn’t wear any underwear for the next forty-eight hours.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I WENT into a bank without underwear,” I complained, knowing that my cheeks were bright red.

I was back in my office catching up on Danny’s paperwork, and O’Connell was leaning over the desk behind me and nuzzling my neck.

“You were soaked by the time we got home. I reckon it was all that talk of numbers and interest rates turning you on. It’s not the last time you’re doing that, either. Only next time, I’m going to tell you all the way home exactly what I’m going to do to that gorgeous body of yours. If you’re lucky, and I’m feeling patient, I’ll drop your jeans, knowing there’s nothing there to stop me, and I’ll take you from behind.”

His deep voice purred seductively in my ear, and I squirmed in my seat, feeling desperate and aroused. I wondered how it was possible for my body to develop this Pavlov’s dog’s reaction to his voice so quickly. He went back to his nuzzling, knowing full well that I was seconds away from turning around and jumping him, when the door banged open.

“Jesus Christ, are you two still at it? I thought you were supposed to stop having sex when you got hitched.”

“Nope,” said O’Connell, with a grin.

It was the grin I don’t think had left his face since our wedding day. Tommy rolled his eyes and sat in the chair opposite.

“So, have you realised yet what a loser you married? ‘Cause I’m still single.”

“Careful,” O’Connell warned, all traces of humour gone.

O’Connell loved Tommy like a brother, but Tommy did have an uncanny ability to push his buttons. I rolled my eyes at the both of them.

“You stay single, Tommy. It’s not fair to the female population to give all of yourself to just one woman. I’m happy enough sticking with the love of my life,” I told him, which made Tommy huff and O’Connell grin.

He wasn’t wrong before, when he warned me he’d need reassurance. We both did from time to time. But that was the joy of being in love. It was no effort to give that reassurance to each another.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. O, and to you, fucktard.”

Kieran greeted O’Connell and me, and finally Tommy.

“You’re in a good mood this morning. Get laid at my wedding, did we?” O’Connell teased.

“As it happens, no I didn’t. But it’s only a matter of time, my friend.” Kieran grinned, and I presumed he was referring to Marie.

“That was an arsehole move at the bar when I was chatting her up. You know that, right?” grumbled Tommy.

Kieran laughed, obviously happy that he’d been successful in prying Tommy away from Marie.

“Listen,” explained Kieran, with his hands up in surrender. “It had absolutely nothing to do with my awesome chat up lines. One look at you dancing to ‘Sex Bomb’ and belting out Tom Jones, and she was dust.”

“What-the-fuck-ever,” grumbled Tommy.

“I do an awesome Tom Jones,” he told me under his breath.

One by one, all of the boys filed into the office. O’Connell stopped kissing my neck but was never very far away from me. They were all shooting the breeze about what they’d been up to over Christmas. Danny went to stay with his sister for a couple of days, and the gym had been closed, so most of the boys were now itching to get back into training. Danny shuffled in as he clocked who was here and who wasn’t. His customary cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, and I frowned, wondering how much of a toll this chain smoking was taking on his health. He poured himself a cup of coffee then looked at Tommy sitting in his chair. When Tommy failed to take the hint, Danny barked, “Move,” and Tommy jumped a mile. Settling himself down, he took a puff of his cigarette, then put it out and addressed the boys.

“Right, lads, we have ourselves a dilemma,” he told us.

“In two weeks, Con is fighting Roberto Calvari. It’s a good fight with a good payday. I set it up because Calvari is a solid fighter. Con won’t just be a stepping stone. If he beats Calvari, he’ll be in the spotlight for fights leading to title contention.”

“What’s wrong? Calvari hasn’t pulled out has he?” asked Kieran, seriously.

“Quite the opposite, boyo. Quite the opposite. He’s as up for it as ever. And there’s no doubt about it, it’s a big fight and a big opportunity for Con and the gym.”

“So, what’s the problem?” asked O’Connell, impatient to know what Danny was leading up to.

“Felix Ramos has offered you a title fight.”

“Holy shit,” whispered Tommy.

I looked around at all the lads who were stunned and slightly awed.

“Who’s Felix Ramos?” I asked.

“It was a few years ago,” explained O’Connell, “but he was World Heavyweight Champion. He’s won a few fights and lost a few fights since then, and it’s a much smaller title, but it would be the biggest fight of my career, by far.”

“So, what’s the catch?” asked Kieran, who went straight to the point.

“This time Con is a stepping stone. Ramos’ career is on the decline, and he wants to fight an up-and-comer. He underestimates Con, and I think it’ll be a barnburner, but he’s rigged it. If we turn it down, we won’t get offered another fight again.”