Текст книги "The Wrath of Cain"

Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

I nearly soar out of my skin when someone’s phone rings. Salvatore reaches into the pocket of the jacket he retrieved off the porch then holds the phone up to his ear, leaning up against his car.

“John.”

We all listen intently at the sound of my dad’s name.

“What the hell does this mean?” he growls into the phone.

Something’s not right. Is my dad hurt? What’s happening? The thought of him being hurt has my heart racing. I grip my mother’s arm for support. Everything was under control when he left.

“Fucking find her. God damn it. She’s a stupid bitch. Where the hell could she have gone?”

“Oh, no,” my mom whispers.

“Motherfucker!” Cain roars.

Salvatore hangs his head and shoves his phone back into his pocket. When he lifts his head back up, his ice-filled eyes scare me.

“They can’t find Emerald. The whore never showed up for work. You all know what this means?”

Everyone acknowledges him but me. I have no damn clue what this means.

“It means we have another goddamned snitch. Cain, it’s up to you to find out who the fuck it is and bring that motherfucker to me.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll find her,” Mom says to me comfortingly.

Knowing now everything is all right with my dad, I’m not worried at all. In fact, I’m the opposite. For the first time in my life, I see blood. Blood dripping from that bitch’s mouth as I pummel her to death.

“Salvatore,” I call out.

“Yes?”

“When they find Emerald, have them bring her to me.”

At that statement, he studies me closely. Then, without saying a word, my uncle, the leader of this family, the man I had no clue existed until a few hours ago, folds his tall frame into the passenger’s side of the car, which pulls off with my cousin at the wheel and my mother in the back. Fifteen minutes ago, no one would have been able to convince me to kill anyone. Now I’ve come to one conclusion. I truly am my parents’ daughter.

***

“You’re staying, then?”

I feel him behind me. So close, his breath caresses the back of my neck.

“Do I have a choice?”

His lips graze the hollow of my nape.

“Yes. You always have a choice.”

“Then I choose to stay. Under one condition,” I rasp, angling my neck the way he likes it.

“Anything.”

“We’re reconnecting, Cain. For now, there will be no touching and no sex. Absolutely nothing.”

He spins me around in his arms, his handsome face dropping.

“Nothing?”

“Well, you can kiss me. Hold me. Talk to me. I want to know everything about what it is you do. If I’m staying here, it’s time I learn exactly what my husband does.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, as long as you’re by my side. And as long as I keep hearing you say, ‘my husband.’”

Chapter Fifteen

Cain

I’d be a bigger asshole than I already am if I didn’t say the past five days have been miraculous with all the bonding Calla and I have done.

We’ve laughed, talked until both of our jaws hurt. She hasn’t left my side once. Things around here have been relatively quiet since the news of the disloyalty of both Emerald and Monty spread like a wildfire.

Everyone is looking for her. Everyone. Yet we are all stumped as to her whereabouts. She has no connections, nothing. I’ve wracked my brain to the point of exhaustion trying to figure out who in the hell would help her. Everyone around here hates her, except for Coon Dog. Fuck, my knuckles are still raw from beating his ass trying to see if he’s the one. He stood there and took it.

Dumbass. I know it’s not him. Of course, I never expected that Emerald had it in her to turn on me, either, even though I treated her worse than the slut she is.

People do some crazy ass shit. I knew Emerald was obsessed with me, but for her to go to the extreme of helping that dickless prick Kryder by keeping him in her house this whole time, and worse, involving her father, still surprises me.

Even so, she’s the one to blame for her own father’s death. I can only imagine the kind of suffering John inflicted on him before he finally put him out of his misery.

This family is all about protecting the ones they love. Friendship means nothing to Salvatore and John. Cecily, either. Their blood does. Especially a young, innocent daughter or niece. Principles run high. Honor, solidarity, and then vengeance. Very few people get a second chance, and Emerald has fucked up in a way she will never be able to fix.

She may not have had a clue that she was disloyal to the wrong people, but she sure as hell will find out once she’s located. Makes me sick to even think I kept her around for years. I feel like it’s all my damn fault. I should have listened to Beamer. All this time, he kept saying he suspected something was off with her, and I didn’t listen.

‘Nah, man. She’s too hung up on me to do anything as stupid as helping Kryder.’

Those were my words, over and over. Fuck. Is she right under our noses like Kryder was? Is her accomplice one of the old club members from when my dad first started up? Someone who hated the fact that I took over when he died? One of the bitches around here I screwed?

“Who the hell is it?” I holler, swiping everything off of my desk. All of it lands on the floor with a loud crash.

Calla strolls in, taking in the destruction. I love it when she walks into my office. I love hearing her voice every day. She’s proved me wrong in every aspect. She’s perfect. She listens. She doesn’t smart off. Well, not in public, anyway.

Not that she’s met too many people. This damn place is quieter than a library, guarded tighter than Guantanamo Bay thanks to my father-in-law, who refuses to let anyone but Priscilla, Bronzer, and Beamer in.

“Who’s what?” she now asks. “Jesus, Cain. What’s gotten into you?”

“Whoever’s helping Emerald, that’s who! I’ve got work to do. I need to get the hell out of here and get it done, but I’m not leaving here until I know who the hell it is. This has gone on long enough. My life with you has been taken away. I can’t even take my wife out to dinner or take her for a long ride on the back of my bike. Shit, I’d even enjoy taking you shopping all day just to be able to get the hell out of here. I want you to be able to go to Canada and get your stuff. Redecorate the house. All I want to do is start my life with you, the life that was stolen from us years ago. If they don’t find that stupid bitch and whoever the hell is dumb enough to help her, I’m going to lose my shit!”

God, why did I quit smoking again? A smoke sure would hit the spot right about now. The bar phone has been ringing nonstop with members wanting to know why they’re not allowed in. I finally had Priscilla set the answering machine to pick up after one ring. They can leave a message. I’m not dealing with them right now. Salvatore’s people from New York are crawling all over the place; it’s like a damn war zone out there. He wasn’t on edge like this when Calla was in Canada, but now that she’s here, he trusts no one. And Manny? He’s off doing my job. Now I feel like Calla did when she first arrived here and I told her she wasn’t going to leave. Except I’m trapped in my own damn territory.

“Whoa there, mister. Who crawled up your ass this morning?”

And there’s her smart little mouth. The one she’s been hiding for the past several days. The one that would look good wrapped around my dick.

“Nothing’s crawled up my ass. You can come over here and crawl on my lap if you want,” I challenge slyly.

Calla strides farther into the room.

“I’ve told you to go. Go do your work. I can go stay with my parents. I know you’re going crazy being locked up here. So am I.”

Her hair is down today, hanging halfway down her back in loose waves. Big and messy. How I would love to grab a handful of it while I’m buried so far inside of her that all she can think about is begging me to give it to her harder. Or to feel it whipping around me as we take a ride to wherever we want to on my bike, this time not having to hide from anyone or only going so far because she has to get home. I want the whole damn world to know she’s mine. I’ve waited years.

These past few days not being able to touch her have been torture. I get where she’s coming from. The night she first came here, we fucked like wild animals. Our desperation for each other was so intense, it was bound to happen.

I’ve had enough waiting, though. I want her, and I know she wants me. Every part of her body tells me she does, from the way she watches me get dressed in the morning as her eyes roam over my body, to the way she kisses me, pushing her body up against mine. I feel her heat. Her body trembles whenever I kiss that spot on her neck.

And then there are her legs. Her legs are longer than Eight Mile Road. Is there a fork somewhere down Eight Mile Road? If there is, I’m not going left or right. I’m plowing the motherfucker right in the middle. At least, that’s where I’m looking to plow right now.

My dick gets hard from just the thought of her, but when I touch her, he turns into a beast. A mad, angry fucker. Whenever we’ve gone too far, she pulls back mere seconds after she realizes what she’s doing.

I’m a mess. Pushing my chair back a few inches, I thump my head down on my desk.

“Seriously?” she asks.

Her toes move into my line of sight. They’re painted a bright pink. Yesterday her mom finally came over with a doctor. They won’t give her any form of birth control until they’re sure she isn’t pregnant. So now if we do have sex in the next few weeks, I have to use a condom.

After the doctor left, they spent most of the day tucked inside our house, painting each other’s nails, talking, and drinking wine. I’m glad she has that close relationship with her parents. The other day I asked Calla if she had grown a pair of balls, but I should probably check myself to see if I’ve grown a pussy, with all this whining I’m doing inside my own head.

“I know what you need. Sit up, babe,” she commands firmly.

“I am sitting up. Take a look,” I taunt, looking down at my dick. It’s hard. He’s just as horny as I am and he’s fucking killing me.

“I can see he’s standing at attention. If he wants some attention, then please sit back.”

He most definitely wants attention. I end my inner wrath. She’s once again boosted my thoughts. If she’s going to do what I hope she is, I’m all for it.

My fingers reach up and slide down her cheek as my gaze takes her in hungrily. The hunger for me in her eyes stares right back, so full of love, patience, and forgiveness.

“You deserve the fucking world, baby. I want to give it to you. I’m an ass.”

Her tongue darts out and licks the entire outer edge of her lips. My fingers leave her jaw, tracing around the same spot she just licked. She is so beautiful. I don’t deserve her.

“You can be. But I know what your problem is. I have the same exact one. You know what I mean?”

Her hand glides down my chest, stopping at the waist of my jeans. She flicks the top button open.

When she ducks her head, her teeth grab my zipper and tug it down. Christ almighty, I knew she was a naughty girl. Fucking hell.

She nips the tip of my cock with her teeth, jerking me off of the chair.

“Fuck me,” I moan.

“I’m about to, with my mouth,” she says seductively, all the while tugging my jeans off of me.

I lift my ass to help her. When my jeans are down around my ankles, Calla leans in again, her dark hair flowing everywhere. I grab it and tug it hard while she continues tormenting me. I could lose my load right now and her mouth hasn’t even touched me.

“I’m loving seeing you on your knees, although it should be me on my knees begging you to love me forever, telling you my heart is finally healing. Good Lord, you have no idea how hard you make me. How badly I crave you deep within my bones.”

“I feel the same way. All these years, I never wanted to acknowledge to myself that I have always felt you here,” she admits, placing her hand over her heart. “But right now, I need to feel you here.”

She squeezes my dick. I grit my teeth.

Her small, delicate fingers pull my briefs down and my cock springs free. Her eyes go wide as she does a double take, looking up at me then back at my dick. Son of a bitch. I’ve been so enthralled in what she is doing to me that I completely forgot about my tattoo. She gasps loudly, her hands flying up to her mouth.

“Oh, my God. You crazy man!”

All kinds of questions flicker through her eyes. Some I’m willing to answer, and some I’m not.

She hesitantly reaches out and runs her index finger down the stem of the white lily.

“Did it hurt?”

“It hurt. Not as much as losing you did,” I tell her, speaking the God’s honest truth.

Her eyes turn sad.

“When did you do it?” she whispers, her smooth finger continuing to glide up and down my dick.

I’ve waited six years to show her this. Tell her why I marked myself. And now I can’t seem to get the words to escape past my throat.

“Cain. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her head bows, her hair once again falling all around her. I can’t see her face, but I can feel, though. And when her tongue takes a swipe across the tip of my dick, all I can do is to lay my head back and relish in the fact that she is here. It’s her. Her mouth making love to my cock. Her long, dark hair spread across my stomach, draping down my legs.

I’m finally believing I have my life back.

Chapter Sixteen

Calla

I’m astonished, nearly rendered speechless when I get a good look at Cain’s glorious cock. I’ve never seen anything like that tattoo in my life. A single, perfectly drawn out white Calla lily runs up the front of it. I want to explore it. Lick it. Suck it. Hell, devour it.

I’m no slut; I have had only two lovers since our breakup, but I haven’t given a blow job since the last time I gave one to Cain. What inexperienced teenagers we were. I was so surprised when he told me one night while we lay in the dark on the bed that he has never let anyone else give him a blow job, kissed another woman, or even gone down on one. I told him not to say shit to try and make me feel better; I didn’t expect him to keep his dick in check while we were apart. He said he always knew we would get back together, or at least, he was bound to try.

So now I sit here on my knees in front of the man who I love with everything I have. I start at the tip, placing small kisses around his opening, swirling my tongue up and down the front and licking the now enlarged head. My hair veils my view of his face, so I can’t see if he’s enjoying what I’m doing. He sighs, his thigh relaxing under my touch. His hands firmly set into my hair, giving me the confidence to carry out this sexual act. God, I’m confident in almost everything I do, but right now, I am fucking nervous.

Please, babe, love this. Let this be the best damn blow job of your life.

I’m on an exploration of this beautiful dick. Good God, it’s like one of those hot, sunny days where you want your Popsicle to last forever. I’ve never wanted to please him more than I do now. I don’t care how wet I am, or how much I want to feel him inside of me; this is all about him. His pleasure. His relief. Him. Just him.

I barely take in the tip. I could never take him in all the way before; there’s no way I can now. He’s so much bigger. So thick and so hard. I wrap my hand around the base and inhale his scent. Relaxing the muscles in my jaw, I work my way down, taking in more and more, my movements syncing with the up and down gliding of my hand. My tongue swirls around, tasting his erotic flavor.

“Fuck, baby. So damn good. I want to see you,” he grits out, grabbing two handfuls of my hair.

He’s panting; his eyes are so dark, the darkest I have ever seen them, but there’s a spark beneath those hooded lids. I squeeze his balls with my other hand. Rolling them, gently caressing.

“I… Hell!” Cain yells out, his head flopping back against his chair.

I know he’s close just by the way he’s twitching in my mouth. His moans become mine. My desire to taste him takes over. Small whimpers of craving escape from my throat. I suck harder, lick more. His balls tighten in my hand.

And then I taste him. His cum. His sexiness. It tastes like him. I swallow it all, licking my way up to the tip and dipping my tongue into the small hole. My hand releases his balls while the other stays firm around the base of his shaft. His eyes open, gazing down into mine. A smug smile tugs on his lips.

“Fucking hell. Am I in heaven? I must be. That mouth of yours is heaven. I’m so ready to go again.”

My brows shoot up.

“Really?”

Cain releases his grip on my hair, smoothing it out, then he stands up and tugs his briefs and jeans on, leaving them hanging open. Before I know what’s happening, he lifts me up under my arms and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal, this time happy to have a prime view of his tight, sexy ass. I know now I can grab it and squeeze it. Do any damn thing I want to do to it. It’s mine!

He’s on a mission. In four long strides, we are at the end of the bar and I’m flipped over onto my back with my legs dangling over the edge and my hands pinned over the top of my head. The most excruciating agony develops between my legs. I could scream.

“Spread those legs, baby,” his throaty voice growls.

I don’t even think about it. I scoot my body up, the cool, glossy surface of the bar grazing my overheated skin. I spread for him, planting my feet onto the wooden surface. He takes a few moments to enjoy the view, running his hands up my legs until he hits my thighs. He presses them gently to open me wider.

“What are you doing?” I ask when he goes around the bar.

He reaches underneath, then lifts up a bottle of tequila along with two shot glasses.

“Grabbing this, and these.”

“Tequila?”

“They say it makes your clothes come off.”

I scoff.

“You don’t need that to make my clothes come off.”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, twisting off the cap and filling the two glasses. “You see, my love, we’re about to have our own little party. Take your top off, but leave that lacy red bra on.”

He lifts one of the glasses to his mouth and drains it, his eyes never leaving my face as I sit up and pull my top over my head, tossing it behind me.

“Shit. You have the nicest tits. They’re beckoning me to lick them.”

He guides me back by placing his hand on the back of my head until I’m laying down again. My chest heaves, the ache between my legs growing more intense by the second.

“Do you like tequila?” he asks, raising the second shot glass. I watch him, mesmerized, as he places the shot glass right above the swell of my breasts.

“I love tequila,” I say breathlessly.

“Me too. Now don’t move. No matter what I do, stay still. Understand?”

I nod my head and watch him intensely when he dips down, opens his mouth, and takes a nipple into his mouth through my bra. I gasp when he bites down on it. The shot glass wobbles slightly.

“Don’t spill it,” he warns, unclasping the front of my bra with his long fingers. Pulling the cups to the side, he exposes my breasts. He stares in awe, licking his lips, then cupping one of them in his hand, palming it and rolling his finger across my peaked flesh.

“You’re killing me here, Cain.”

“No. You’re killing me. You have no idea how badly I want you. How much I love you and want to worship every part of this body.”

My chest rises and falls. The glass tips to the side. He swoops down, licking right between my breasts until he reaches the shot glass, then opens his mouth and tips the contents back. He goes and pours two more shots while I lay here in a trance, my insides shaking.

“Here.”

I sit up, expecting him to hand it to me. He doesn’t. He grabs a handful of my hair, tilts my head back, and devours my mouth with his. The bitter taste of tequila has never tasted so good when he strokes his tongue against mine. It seems like eternity before either one of us comes up for air. My hands roam underneath his t-shirt. God, he’s so hard. If I didn’t love every part of his body, I swear, I would find some super glue and leave my hands right here. Pure male muscle, all man and all mine to do whatever I want with.

“Keep your mouth open,” he commands, breaking away from our kiss.

He brings the shot glass to my lips; I watch his every move as he pours the clear liquid down my throat. I swallow, my nose scrunching up from the burn as it flows down my throat.

He guides me back down, then moves to the end of the bar to unbutton my shorts. I lift up while he yanks them down along with my panties, exposing me bare.

His hands scrub down his face before he looks back at my bare pussy.

“I’ve never seen anything so flawless in my life.”

His words hit me straight in the heart, in ways I have dreamed about for years.

“Now here’s the real test, babe. I’m going to eat this pussy like it’s breakfast. And you are going to stay perfectly still. Got me?”

Oh, I got you all right, you pussy tease.

I’m engaging in this game he’s playing, enjoying myself very much. But goddang, I want him naked.

“I’ll stay still and play along... if you take your clothes off first.”

He lifts a finger and wags it.

“Patience.”

“I don’t have patience. I’m a law student. A sex deprived law student who wants her husband. Now, my clothes are off. I’m naked and spread out on top of this bar.”

I spread my legs farther in illustration, reaching down and pulling the lips of my pussy apart. He looks down and then back up at me, a smartass grin on his face. Inside I’m laughing my ass off. Our lives are beginning to form into what I know will be a challenging yet fulfilling life. Both of us are control freaks, but it makes it all the more interesting. And it sure as hell is making me want him all the more.

I dip a finger an inch or so inside of me. He growls. Pulls his vest off. Yanks his t-shirt over his head. Jeans and briefs fall on the floor and then there he stands, all six foot plus of my man with a dick as hard as this wood I’m lying on. I have a perfect view of the lily stretched wide across the top.

My man thinks fast. He grasps firmly onto both of my wrists and climbs on top of me, bringing my arms up and over my head again.

“My courtroom. My rules. Keep those hands above your head, your legs spread wide, and hold still.”

I moan in frustration when he presses his cock into my center. He removes his hands from mine, picks up the shot glass, and slides his body off of mine. He delicately places the glass on my stomach, which is now moving up and down, twitching and clenching just as badly as the apex between my thighs.

“You smell down there like you want something. Like you need something.”

He strokes his dick in his hand. I lift my head and watch him, trying desperately to endure this anguish building inside of me.

“I want you,” I say carefully.

“Oh, you’re going to get me, all right. But only if you hold still and don’t spill that tequila.”

Then his head is gone. It’s in my pussy. One swipe, two. I’m not going to last long at all. I’m too goddamned turned on. Then he stops and licks around my outer edges. He tenderly rains kisses with his wet tongue down one leg and back up the other then gives me another swipe between my legs, followed by a nip of my clit.

My stomach and chest are clenching forcefully, but now I really don’t give a shit if the tequila spills or not. I want him.

He does this move one more time. I lift my head and see him bend down and retrieve a condom from the pocket of his jeans. He tears it open with determination and rolls it on, fire shooting from his eyes into mine.

I’m starting to shake. The bastard has a smug look on his face. He knows he’s getting to me.

“I swear to God, if you don’t take that shot glass off of me now, you’re going to sit right there and watch me finger fuck myself!” I screech.

“Don’t tempt me. I would enjoy it.”

Before he can reach the glass, I snatch it up my own damn self and drain it.

“It seems there needs to be some order in this courtroom,” he says huskily. “Someone doesn’t want to listen to the judge.”

“Yeah, well, I’m the lawyer who’s fucking the judge!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“Cocky bastard.”

He shifts his body slightly, fiddling with something under the bar. All of a sudden the room explodes as the sound of an electric guitar comes out of the speakers directly above us. The deep voice of the lead singer of Foghat fills the room as he sings the opening lines to ‘I Just Wanna Make Love to You.’

The song is instantly recognizable to my ears.

I’m thrown back to years ago when we would listen to music like this, ear buds in our ears as we rode down the highway on the back of his bike. Cain used to sing this song to me, along with so many others.

He pulls my body towards him, his dick perfectly lined up with my entrance.

“The judge calls a recess while he sees the lead defense attorney in his chambers.”

Then he drives his dick straight in, slamming it up against my walls. My ass comes off of the bar as I revel in the wonderfully full sensation.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, stroking slowly.

I can hear my pulse strumming in my ears along with the erotic music as I watch him watching himself move inside of me. He continues to slide in and out at his slow pace, taking me higher and higher until I feel my back arching with my impending orgasm.

“Oh!”

I gasp when he suddenly slams in hard, stretching me even farther.

“You look like a dark haired goddess on top of this bar. I love seeing your body flushed, the scent of your pussy and the sweat between your breasts mixing with the oxygen filling my lungs. Hearing you groan and pant as my dick makes you come. I love you so damn much, Calla. Now hang on, because I need to pound this pussy. I want to own it. Consume it. Drive you crazy until you come for me one more time.”

That speech may have just stopped me from breathing for a bit, but oh my hell, he feels so good. One hand grips tight onto the edge of the bar while the other hand moves over one of my breasts, rubbing hard and fast across my nipple.

“So beautiful,” he moans. “Get there, sweetheart.”

His pounding is persistent, moving as fast as the hard strokes of the guitar blaring in our ears. I can’t help myself. I bow up, digging into the wood of the bar with my nails, I’m holding on so tightly. Cain shifts back and stills. His dick twitches and I feel the warmth of his release penetrate through the thin layer of the condom. We come together, just the way it should be.

He jumps down and pulls off the condom, looking up at me with a gleam in his eye.

“This trial has been reconvened until tomorrow morning because the judge will be in his chambers all day!”