Page 9 of Honorable Sins

I don't ask if my husband is ready to take them. Mick's driving motivation is to protect me and the children and he believes you protect best from a position of power.

Being the boss is something he wants. Not because he's power hungry, or needs the validation of the role. That's not how my sociopath works. But as the boss he will have full discretion over what our mob is involved in, who we take on as allies and how we respond to encroachment on our territory.

And he will be able to make the decisions that keep us safest. They aren't always the ones my father would agree are best for the mob.

My husband is not a diplomat. He's a destroy them now and deal with the fall out later kind of guy.

"Will you promote Brice to be your underboss?" The other Irishman has been Mick's top lieutenant since they came to New York together.

"Aye, but I'll be promoting Rory and Conor, among others. to positions with more responsibilities too."

Mick has always believed the mob should be run more like a business conglomerate, with CEOs, COOs and CFOs etc. In the structure he favors, Mick is the chief executive officer with final say over everything. His underboss is the chief operations officer and one of his other lieutenants would take on the role as chief financial officer.

"Who are you thinking of making CFO?" I ask, rocking a little because my body is way more interested in Mick's hardon than our discussion.

Rory is good with numbers, but not as good as Fiona. My sister got her degree in accounting online and has been working for Mick ever since. Too bad he can't give the job to her.

"Fiona."

"My sister?" I gasp. "But she's not made."

Not to mention she's still an extreme introvert. Therapy has helped my sister a lot, but she continues to get anxiety being around strangers and prefers to remain in the background.

Mick slides his hand up under my top, sending pleasure sparking along my nerve endings. "I want to structure the mob like a corporation, but we aren't one. She'll be my money man and on my council of advisors, but the role doesn't have to be front facing."

"Okay, sticking with the C level theme, who will be your Chief Security Officer?" I ask with a hitch in my breath as Mick's hand flicks open the front closure of my bra.

"In essence, Connor." Mick cups my breast and squeezes.

"That feels so good," I pant. "What about chief procurement officer?" I throw out the first C level that comes to mind as pleasure short circuits my brain.

"Rory," Mick answers without hesitation. "You haven't asked who will be COO yet."

He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

My core clenching, I struggle to stay focused enough to talk. "That's Brice."

"No, a chroí, that's you."

That's so startling, it brings my focus zooming back. "But…" I blink at my husband. "I don't understand. Brice will be your underboss."

"He will be our underboss and Vice President of Operations for Shaughnessy Corp."

Because I'm Mick's queen and will rule beside him, not as his subordinate.

"I love you, Michael." I lean forward and press my lips to his, not needing to hear the words said back.

Because I know I am loved by this man so incapable of emotion with others.

Mick kisses me back, the passion he's kept banked during our discussion suddenly out of control as he eats at my mouth and thrusts his tongue inside. Determined hands strip my clothes off, our mouths parting only long enough for Mick to pull my top over my head.

I undo his pants and he lifts his hips so he can push his slacks and boxers down his thighs, but he doesn't finish taking them off.

Grasping his turgid flesh, I squeeze, filled with feminine satisfaction at his response to me.

But Mick pulls my hands away from him, guiding them behind my back.

I'm too busy kissing him to complain or ask what he's doing. I find out soon enough when he ties my wrists together with stretchy fabric. My underwear.