Текст книги "The Wrath of Cain"

Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cain

Two people can be connected in such a manner that the health of one loved one can relate to the health of the other. It’s a true fact.

The moment I saw Calla being carried out of the warehouse, I died right there of a broken heart. Her beautiful face was beaten beyond recognition. She was unresponsive, her limbs dangling like wet noodles. If it weren’t for the EMTs who reassured John and me repeatedly that she had a pulse, I would have sworn she was dead.

That night, seeing her in the state she was in, not knowing whether her heart was going to give out on her from the amount of heroin that was pumping through her body, I knew I couldn’t live without her. For six years, I did everything in my power to protect her from this life, and in a matter of minutes, those years rolled into one nightmarish night after another as I sat by her side, waiting, talking to her about anything.

I’m not ashamed to cry. I’m human. I’ve cried a lot these past two weeks. Grieved, even. There will always be danger in the life I have chosen to lead. Calla was cast into it with her eyes closed. She now comes out with them wide open. My God, I’m so in love with her. She wakes up and one of the first things she wants to know is if everyone else involved is okay.

These past two weeks watching her go in and out of consciousness dragged on longer than the past six years did. She would wake up screaming and thrashing until the nurse would come in and give her medication to slip her back under. I never want to go through anything like this again.

This family has been through enough. Royal must pay. War has been declared now, against one man. No one has seen or heard from that son of a bitch since he somehow escaped right under our noses. John shot him, this much we all know. How he managed to slit the throats of two of Salvatore’s men and get past us is still a mystery. He’s now a wanted man. A man who has betrayed the honor of his blood. He will be caught. He will be tortured. And he will die.

I lie here next to my sleeping wife, holding her in my arms while she sleeps peacefully on my chest. My own body wants to give in and sleep, but my mind isn’t letting me as it continues to race like a horse. I have to tell her the rest. I’ve tried so many times to come up with a way to tell her. To find the right words. She’s been through so much. But this, this could destroy her. Every time I think about it, it breaks my damn heart.

I envision the day when the two of us can live a normal life. At least, as normal as it can be. When we can finally breathe easily. Fall asleep without worry. She doesn’t know it yet, but we will be staying in New York. The club has been turned over to Beamer. With Kryder gone, the Savages are no longer a threat to them. That part of my life is over. Our new life together will begin here. I know her, she will agree. She is loyal to her family. Loyal to me.

For the past week, I have sat in this room alongside Cecily and John constructing plans for our new life here. They, too, will be living here until this war with the Russians is over. Until Royal is found.

“You awake?”

Calla’s sleepy voice brings me out of my thoughts. The sound alone puts a smile on my face.

“Yeah.”

I pull her into me as tightly as I can without hurting her. She still has some healing to do. Her face and legs still have slight bruising. Her shoulder has pretty much healed. She has to be stiff and sore from lying in this bed for weeks, though.

“I know there is more you’re not telling me. I can handle it, you know?”

She braces herself up on her elbow. The light from the bathroom casts a shadow over her gorgeous face. The nursing staff has taken good care of her, giving her sponge baths and cleaning her hair with some kind of dry shampoo shit. She still steals my breath away.

“Ugh. This fucking thing is driving me nuts,” she moans.

“What thing?”

“This catheter. I want the damn thing out. It’s disgusting.”

I chuckle.

“It’s not funny. What time is it anyway? I want out of this bed. I want a shower. I want to brush my teeth and eat some real food.”

“Is that so?” I ask, laughing even more.

“Come here,” I beckon, placing my hand on the back of her head, gently coaxing her back down on my chest.

“I’m not sure what time it is. I would guess somewhere around six.”

Daylight is starting to peek through the slit in the curtains.

“As far as a shower and all those other demands, you have to wait for the doctor to clear you.”

“Great. He better get here soon then, damn it,” she sighs in frustration.

“Your mom came in after you fell asleep. She called him and he will be here at eight.”

I leave her to her thoughts, waiting patiently for her to start probing me with questions. She’s back to her inquisitive ways. Who’s to say what she’ll be like after I tell her everything? Will she want me, blame me? I have nothing to hide from her. I will tell her the truth about it all. Salvatore will fill her in on the rest.

“So,” she begins. “My first question is, how is Manny, really?”

I feel a tug on my heart hearing her first question is about Manny’s health.

“Honestly. He’s fine. He’s bound to find Royal. He’s tough, just like you. Trust me. He’s good.”

She clutches my shirt in her hand, exhaling a breath into my chest.

“I’m glad. What his brother did to him... I can’t even begin to describe what it felt like to see.”

I contain my rancid thoughts, burying them in the back of my mind. She doesn’t need to hear how I feel. The things I want to do to that slimy bastard.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Right after I speak those words, she stiffens in my arms.

“Not really. Someday, maybe.”

I sense her hesitation. I won’t push her. She can talk about it whenever she’s ready.

“And my dad? How is he?”

“Seriously, baby. He’s good. Everyone’s good. We’ve all been too busy worrying about you, making sure you were healing, to deal much with anything else. I mean, I’m sure your dad is kicking his own ass for what happened. You nailed it on the head, though, when you told him he did the right thing by taking out Emerald first. He knows that. You need to let him deal with it. Let him answer to himself. The only person who is blaming your dad is himself.”

I start rubbing her back in slow, lazy circles, applying light pressure to try and relieve some of the tension I can feel coiling up. She moans when I find a small knot.

“I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“I know you are, and I love you even more for it. Just trust me. Trust him, okay?”

“I do,” she says without any hesitancy in her voice at all.

“Any more questions?”

It’s like I can feel her mind working up against my chest.

“I want to move here,” she divulges. I hold back my grin.

“Really? I hadn’t thought of that. I would have guessed for sure you would want to go back to Michigan or possibly Canada to finish school.”

She sits straight up in bed, her eyes darting to mine in suspicion of my sarcasm. She adjusts the IV and the rubber cord to her catheter and faces me with a matter-of-fact look.

“Spill, Bexley,” she commands.

Her demanding nature is damn near a turn on. If she wasn’t still healing, I would turn her over my knee and spank her.

“Whatever do you mean?” I say innocently.

She tilts her head, shooting some wicked daggers at me with her eyes. The morning sun is now peeking through. Like I said, my woman is absolutely stunning, even with her hair halfway out of her ponytail and no makeup on. Life is coming back into her eyes. And here I lie hiding the one thing that will dull them.

Finish up this conversation and then tell her. Get it over with.

“I kind of took it upon myself to sort of move us here over the past week,” I admit.

She surprises me by bursting into laughter. It fills the entire room, her bright orbs glistening. Fuck me if I’m not about to crush her.

She abruptly stops laughing as quickly as she started.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” she whispers.

I nod and take a deep breath, preparing myself to tell her.

I reach for her hand, stroking it gently. I can’t look at her, not yet. The doctors said the best way to tell her was to just say it, but the words are lodged in my throat. When I finally do speak, I don’t even recognize my own voice.

“You were pregnant, Calla.”

“I... was?” she asks faintly.

I find the courage to look at her.

“You miscarried, babe.”

“Oh, my God. They didn’t manage to kill me, so instead they killed our unborn child. A baby we never even knew we were going to have.”

She stares at our joined hands, placing them both across her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Cain.”

“Calla, no!”

I sit all the way up, cradling her face in my hands.

“No. It’s not our fault. Losing a baby is a tragedy. Neither one of us knew. We both have to grieve, both together and separately in our own ways. Never think this is your fault or mine. It’s not.”

It damn near kills me to see the pain in her eyes. The silently falling tears.

“I just… I guess I need time to deal with it.”

“Take all the time you need. We’ll get through it together, I promise,” I tell her, resting my forehead against hers.

Her eyes close. The two of stay this way for several minutes, grieving for our loss. She pulls away first, a sorrowful smile on her lips.

“We’re going to be fine,” I whisper.

“Yeah, I know,” she whispers back. “I love you, Cain. I’ve loved you all along. We were apart for so long, both of us changing in so many ways, yet here we are a month later, grieving the loss of a child we will never meet.”

Calla’s eyes conquer mine once again. Hers filled with heat, mine filled with want. Hers dart to my mouth at the same time mine flit to hers. We meet in the middle, our mouths opening up to one another’s.

A lot of information is pouring out of this kiss. I’m telling her that this is the beginning of our new lives together. She’s telling me she trusts me in taking care of our future. Both of us letting the other know how much we have desperately missed each other. This is nothing like the raw kiss we first shared a month ago after seeing each other the first time. This kiss is telling each other that we only have one life and we want to share it. Life is too damn short to not share it with the one you love.

I hold her face gently in my hands as my tongue intertwines with hers. I could kiss her forever. It’s short lived, though, when we are interrupted by the sound of three throats clearing. We break away, Calla’s face beet red.

“Well. I was on my way in here to check on my baby girl since I haven’t had the opportunity to really have a conversation with her yet, but I can see that she seems to be perfectly fine.”

Calla’s brows rise, her spirit lifting slightly when she sees her mom.

“You look beautiful, Mom.”

Calla reaches out her arms to her mother. I get up off the bed. The two of them stay in a long embrace. Cecily inspects Calla, fussing with her pillows and introducing her to the doctor. John and I stand leaning up against the wall, arms crossed. Neither one of us can take our eyes off of the two women before us. Calla needs her mom right now, and she needs to talk to the doctor.

I push myself away from the wall, giving John a glance. He follows me out the door. I say nothing. Neither does he. All of us have known she lost our baby and have had the time to grieve. Now it’s her turn.

***

“There she is!” Lola greets Calla in the kitchen.

“My God, you are the spitting image of your mother when she was your age!”

She leans in, pecking both of Calla’s cheeks.

“I take that as a compliment,” my wife grins. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

I sit back in my chair at the kitchen table, watching Cecily and Lola fuss over Calla as if she were a child. I know she’s itching to get the hell out of here. The doctor told her she had to take it easy for a few more weeks, and then set up a follow up appointment to see her in a few weeks.

She looks great. Perfect. I watch her in awe as she delicately picks at her food. Small portions is what the doctor recommended. She wasn’t too happy about that at all. My girl is craving a cheeseburger, of all things. Knowing her she’ll get what she wants one way or another.

“Excuse us, ladies. Gentlemen, shall we talk in my office?” Salvatore suggests after he greets Calla.

He whispers something in her ear and she nods her head, glancing my way with a wink. I wink back, knowing all too well he feels it’s time to address her. See where her head’s at. As her husband, I wish he would give her more time. I know better than to ask, so I bow out of the kitchen like a dog with my tail between my goddamned legs. My mind reels, not only with worry for her. It’s everything. I’m a thief. I haven’t had my hands on a new gun in a long time. I get off on the way the smooth, cold steel feels when I glide my hands down it. Fuck me. I miss it.

“Manny. What the hell dude? When did you get here?”

We do our usual bro hugging bullshit. He follows us into the office, closing the door securely behind him.

“Just got here. Calla doing all right?”

He nods in my direction when I take a seat. He doesn’t need to ask me if I told her. The true meaning behind his question is captured in his tone.

“Yeah. She is.”

Manny spreads his arms wide jokingly.

“So, what’s up, Dad? Why are we all here?”

“Sit your ass down, punk,” Salvatore says, waving to a chair. “We’re damn lucky, you all know this, right?”

“We do. Any news?” John asks.

“On the whereabouts of Royal? Nothing. He’s vanished. My guess is he’ll be gone for quite some time. I did have a phone conversation with Ivan this morning.”

He looks at John, gauging his reaction. John’s nostrils flare. His hand clenches tightly around his coffee cup.

“And?” John lifts his head, meeting Salvatore’s eyes.

“He knows we have a hit out on Royal. He stands by his word. He knows nothing. He’s insistent that Royal acted on his own. Our families work together on this. Am I clear?”

John goes to speak. You can see the poison running through his veins, feel his need to kill Royal himself. Salvatore silences him. When Salvatore silences you with his hand, you listen, it doesn’t matter whether you’re family or not.

“I believe him, John. Why would he start a war? He has no reason to. I stay out of his way and he stays out of mine. This isn’t the 1920s when families fought against each other for control of empires. Sure, there are families who hate each other. Shit, I can’t stand Ivan. He has no respect for anyone. I don’t like the way he conducts business. I definitely don’t approve of drugs or prostitution. We stand together on this. You and I together. We’ve talked about this. It’s not easy for me, either. For years after Royal left, I listened to my Lola cry herself to sleep many nights, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to ease her pain. I listened to her pray for his safety. For him to return home and get the help he needed. We both still mourn for the son we lost, my own goddamn flesh and blood in a living, breathing monster of a man. But what can I do? I can do right by the people who have done right by me, or I do nothing at all. I’m doing what I have to do, not what I want to do.”

Manny jumps up.

“We kill him, that’s what we do! Fucking wipe them all out.”

“Sit the hell down, Roan!”

Whoa. That’s the first time in years I’ve heard Salvatore call Manny by his given name.

“No, damn it, I won’t! Do any of you know what it’s like to be restrained? Feel helpless as you sit back and get brutalized by your own brother? Watch a woman who you’ve sworn to protect be drugged, bound to a chair, and beaten? Do any of you know how that feels? Those visions rattle around in my fucked up head every day. I close my eyes and I see the hatred in Royal’s face. I take a shower, I see his face. Everywhere I look, I see him. My own brother, who tried to kill me. He failed at that, yet he still managed to take something precious away from all of us. Do any of you know how much it killed me to see them torture her like that?”

Manny starts to pace the floor. His breathing is heavily labored. His hand is clasped at the back of his neck.

“Manny,” Salvatore stands and walks cautiously towards his son. “I’m sorry, son.”

He opens his arms wide. Manny stands there for several long seconds. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, that we’ve all talked about. Manny has kept this all to himself. He hasn’t spoken a word about it at all, up until now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I carefully regard John’s reception of hearing the things that Calla was subjected to. Neither he nor Salvatore have mentioned the video since that night. The flash drive has been destroyed, stomped into pieces by the heel of my boot and scattered somewhere alongside the road. There was no need to save it, it’s not like this crime will be reported to the police and Royal will be prosecuted. His punishment will be death. His body will be disposed of just like Monty’s, Emerald’s, and Kryder’s were.

It’s late in the afternoon the next day by the time we leave the house with John and Cecily and head toward the city and our new apartment. Make that two apartments. John and Cecily own one in the same building.

After Manny’s breakdown, Salvatore called an end to the meeting and asked Calla if he could come to her and talk, leaving her very suspicious as to what’s going on. Then he packed a bag and took off with Manny.

I’m worried about my friend. Either he’s really beating himself up over this, or something else is going on. What? I’m not sure. I can’t even bring my own mind to try and conjure up what these two have been through. Calla seems to be dealing with it fine. Then again, she’s really only had a little over twenty-four hours to think about it. The loss of our baby. The beatings. The drugs. When I tried bringing it up last night before bed, she told me she wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’m not going to push her; she’ll talk when she’s ready. But as a man, to have to sit there and know you can’t do a fucking thing to help a person you care about, let alone a woman being abused and damn near killed, I can’t even fathom the kind of shit going through my best friend’s head.

That brings us to right now. We’re riding in the back of a hired car to deter any suspicion from us.

“Are you nervous?” I whisper into her ear, the tall buildings of New York City coming into view.

“Anxious is more like it. I can’t believe we’re staying in a penthouse on Park Avenue. It’s crazy.”

I pull her into me, her breath blows warmly across my heated skin. The smell of her hair envelops me. My dick goes nuts, even with her mom and dad sitting in the seat opposite of us. I exhale and will the son of a bitch to keep himself in check, my brain telling him she’s still hurting.

“Calla. I almost forgot. Here.”

Her mom digs through her bag on the floor then slants forward, handing her a large envelope.

“What’s this?”

I look up at her mother, who sits back at ease with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Nothing major, just some papers my mom printed off for me.”

I seize the envelope right out of her delicate little hands.

She laughs, not even trying to attempt to take it back.

“It’s an application for the NYU School of Law. Happy now?”

I kiss the top of her head.

“Very fucking happy.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Calla

I have never seen a building so tall, the outside so modernly constructed in my life. Craning my neck towards the sky, I stare up.

“How tall is this building? And please don’t tell me we’re all the way at the top?”

Cain’s arms snake around me from behind.

“Not all the way. About three quarters up. I’m not sure how tall it is. Enough to give us a perfect view of the city. You’re going to love it.”

The idea of being able to see the city excites me, although it may take some time to get used to. Heights and I don’t seem to get along very well. I remember the time my parents and I were on vacation. I had been so determined I was going to go on the new roller coaster. The minute we started the slow climb up, I squeezed my dad’s hand in a death grip and wouldn’t let go. As we started to descend, my stomach flew into my throat. I had to hold my breath all the way down, scared out of my mind.

Dad thought it was funny. Me, not so much. Especially when the moment we jumped off, I threw up all over the place. Not a pretty sight for a thirteen-year-old girl to have her head shoved into a garbage can while she throws up her lunch.

I chance a glance at my dad, who retrieves the last of our bags out of the back of the car, tips the driver, and gives me a knowing look as if he is remembering the same thing as I am.

“It’s nothing like that roller coaster, Calla. Now grab one of these suitcases and move your ass.”

I comply without delay, grabbing the handle of the suitcase and following behind my parents inside.

“Wow.”

I freeze for a moment, giving myself time to check out the lobby. It’s very chic and extremely elegant. A red wall runs down one side. The other side is all windows and doors leading back outside. Black and white leather furniture is grouped into small seating areas. My heels click across the marble tiled floor when I have to pick up the pace to catch up. The sound is delightful.

My favorite pair of Louboutins survived that horrible night I would just as soon forget. Even though at the time I would have loved nothing better than to have been able to stab both of Emerald’s eyes with the heels of my shoes, now I’m thankful I didn’t.

I continue on, feeling safe, shoving that night deep into the back of my mind. We stop briefly at the security desk where I’m introduced to two of the security guards. Both men are young and good-looking.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” they say in unison.

The bigger one of the two eyes me from head to toe. Cain growls from behind me.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I say politely.

“Let us know if you ever need anything, Mrs. Bexley,” he says.

I return his smile.

“Thank you.”

We make our way toward the elevator, leaving the two men behind. I elbow Cain.

“Jealous?”

“No. The opposite. They can look all they want. Now if they touch...” He quirks up a brow.

I roll my eyes.

The elevator dings just as we approach.

“We’re on the Forty-ninth floor and you’re on Fiftieth.,” Dad says as he pushes both buttons. The elevators close and we ascend rapidly. Even the elevator floor is marble. Good lord.

I’m anxious to see the inside. The view. To soak in the tub overlooking the city that Lola went on and on about. I pray my stomach will be able to take it. I’d hate to disappoint Cain.

I know he built his house back in Michigan with hopes of us living there. We haven’t talked much about why he wants to live here. When we were younger, he did always talk about moving away from Detroit, with all of its drugs and violence, but there’s just as much, if not more, here.

Not to mention, no one knows Royal’s whereabouts. Everyone seems to think he has left the state. Salvatore is convinced he’s left the country. You would think I would be frightened after everything I’ve been through, but I can honestly say this is the safest I have felt since I first learned about my fate, and all the things I never knew about the six years I lived on my own. Maybe it’s the fact that my parents are close. Or the reality of Cain and I really trying to make our marriage work. Whatever it is, I’m ready to put the past behind me, and eager to start my new life with the only man I will ever love.

Mom hugs me before she steps off the elevator.

“Call me when you’re ready to fill out the paperwork for NYU, sweetie.”

“I will.”

I turn to my handsome father. My protector. My lifesaver.

“Dad.”

He pulls me into his arms.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear.

He holds me tight for the longest time, then releases me, kissing my forehead and sighing heavily.

“I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he winks at me as the doors of the elevator close.

“And I’m proud to be your daughter. Both of you,” I say to myself.

The minute we walk into the apartment, I gasp.

“Oh, my God!”

It’s more like a damn mansion sitting on top of the world. Dropping my bag, I gawk, jaw slack. The foyer is slick with dark wood floors. I bypass the living room and head straight to the kitchen, which is all white except for the slate-gray tiled floors. It has a large window that overlooks the entire city. The Empire State Building. The MetLife building. This view is remarkable. I can’t wait until nighttime to see it all lit up.

Cain’s arms encircle my waist. I lean back against his shoulders, taking it all in.

“Is this where you would stay when you came to the city?” I ask inquisitively when I enter the living room, greeted by more windows overlooking another part of the city. The walls are all white, the modern furniture a deep, rich tan.

“I stayed here a few times. Not many.”

He grabs my hand and leads me into a giant office lined with shelves of books. A sleek wooden desk sits in the center.

“This is amazing.”

Cain’s eyes hit mine. A hint of mischievousness glimmers in his deep-set eyes.

“Come here,” he beckons, extending his hand out to me. He pulls me down the hall and into the biggest bedroom I have ever seen.

You could live in this room. Off to the right sit two deep gray, couches underneath yet more windows. There is also a chaise lounge next to a fireplace, and another desk.

The large king size bed sits on the other side of the room, facing the windows.

Cain sweeps me up in his arms, carrying me in the direction of the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” I giggle lightly.

He sets me gently down.

“This is heaven!” I exclaim, sliding my eyes to the claw foot tub sitting by a window. There is a walk-in shower off to the left and a vanity with two sinks to the right. Gravity pulls me in the direction of the tub.

“Take a bath. Relax. I’ll make us some dinner,” says Cain.

I raise my hands in defeat.

“No argument from me.”

I smile happily and kiss him tenderly on the lips.

“Do you need a pain pill?”

“Nope. I have everything I need right here.”

He stares at me for a long moment. I can tell his mind is working, wondering if I’m telling the truth.

“I’m good. Really. Now, I’m starving.”

I try and shoo him out.

“Let me see what I can find to make. Lola had her housekeeper stock us with food.”

“Cheeseburger!” I holler at his retreating back.

“I knew it,” he yells back.

I sigh, taking in my surroundings. I could definitely get used to this.

I lay my head back, staring out into the late afternoon/early evening skyline of New York City. My muscles tight from lack of exercise loosen up. It’s my brain that won’t relax, won’t stop twitching. I’ve hidden my memories well and I will continue to do so from everyone.

It’s like I’m doomed to relive the entire night from beginning to end, over and over. Drugged. Punched. Manny. Screaming. Royal’s seedy, repugnant eyes. Emerald, fixated on killing me. The loss of our baby, a baby we would have loved so much. It won’t leave me alone.

Will it ever go away? All I can see is the cutest little blue eyed, dark-haired little boy, wrestling around on the floor with his father, or sitting on my lap while I read him a story. I splay my hands across my belly, saying a silent prayer to give me the strength and courage to carry on.

This is the first time I’ve been alone to be able to cry and mourn the loss of a baby I never even knew existed. The tears flow out freely, and I let them. When I’ve cried my last, I puff out a breath and submerge my body under the water, allowing pleasant memories of the last time I did this back at Cain’s house take hold over the disturbing ones.

I bolt upright, thinking I might catch him again, but the doorway is vacant. Laughing inwardly, I reach for the soap when a wave of the scent of cooking burgers hits my nose, shooting straight to my stomach. I hurry up and finish bathing, and drain the tub. I moan from the soft feel of the plush bath mat between my toes.

Wrapping the oversized towel around my waist, I pad out into the bedroom. Not having any idea where my clothes are, I open the closest dresser, squealing in delight when I see all of my bras folded neatly on the top shelf. Choosing to be bold, I reach for the red lace push up with matching panties. I pull out a few more drawers until I find my University of Windsor t-shirt. It’s old and has a hole under the arm, but it’s the softest shirt I own. I love it!

With a plan in my head, the nightmares get shoved aside. I hang the towel up and stroll out of the bedroom in search of that cheeseburger.

***

“I’m exhausted, you ready for bed?” Cain asks as soon as I hang up the phone with my mom. During dinner, I devoured my cheeseburger at the kitchen table. Notice I said table. Cain wanted to sit out on the deck. I may love the view, but I’m not ready to see it from there yet. As it was, I stood frozen in the kitchen when Cain told me he was grilling outside. No damn way am I ready to go out there. Maybe never.

He leans down and lifts me up like a child, carrying me all the way to the bedroom, where he lays me down softly on the bed.

“The doctor cleared me for sex.”

A grin tugs the corners of his mouth.

“Really?”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, pulls out his wallet, and sets it on the nightstand. Then he unbuttons his jeans. I watch them, holding my breath when they drop to the floor. His half-hard dick permanently marked with its sign of ownership springs free.

“Yeah,” I hiss, breathing out heavily. I sit up, whip my shirt over my head, and throw it down by his jeans.

“Fucking hell,” he growls, staring at my boobs spilling out of my red bra.

I lie back, spreading my legs wide and walking my fingers down my stomach slowly until they edge across the waistband of my matching panties.

“You like?” I ask playfully.

“Don’t,” he warns, placing one knee on the bed.

He removes my hand and straddles me. He grabs my other hand and entwines them both with his.

We kiss deeply, passionately, and very slowly. My hands start to roam everywhere when he releases them finally. I’ve missed him.

“I want you,” I say after he’s been feasting on my neck for several minutes.

“I want you, too.”