by Tiya Rayne
And when she least expects it, I push my length into her, seating myself in one thrust. She lets out a gasp that turns into a moan. I take my time getting her adjusted to my length, allowing her essences to coat every inch of my cock.
“Oh god, Walker you feel so good.”
I smile. She’s able to talk now, she won’t be in a minute. I place a hand at her lower back, making her dip it for me a little more. When she’s at the perfect arch, I slam into her, hitting her ass with my pelvis. She yelps and slightly stumbles forward.
“Don’t touch anything,” I warn as I pump into her with powerful strokes, my balls smack against her clit. Her moans are much louder now.
“Walker, I can’t,” she warns as she stumbles forward once again.
I grab at her arms, lifting one behind her back and demand she give me the other. I grasp her arms at the wrist as if she’s under arrest, then slam into her. She moans so loud if anyone is outside of this restroom, I know they can hear us.
I continue to use her arms behind her back as leverage as I piston into her wet slit. Her words are nothing but mumbled curses as she’s forced to take all of me. There’s nowhere to run when I’m holding her like this.
I finally let go of her wrist. I lean her up, wrapping my hand around the front of her throat. I bring her face to mine, still keeping that arch in her back as I fuck her hard. Her hands are on my thighs—her small attempt at keeping me from going too deep.
I knock her hands away and slam into her, her body shakes as she nears her release. I tug at her leg, bringing the back of her knee over my forearm. The tights wrapped around her ankles prevent me from lifting it too high. Her head falls to my shoulder.
With her legs open wider, I rock into her at an angle. She screams at this new position. Knocking at the door starts. Someone wants in, but fuck them. Nothing can pull me out of this pussy.
“Keep that leg up for me. I want this pussy wide open,” I growl into her ear. I slide my hand down her thigh to her mound and I rub her enlarged clit.
Brooklyn loses her shit. I fuck her hard while I play with her nub. She screams my name as someone beats at the door.
I slam into her and she comes so hard her body convulses and nearly gives out. The clamping of her soaking wet sheath has me grunting out as I soak her walls with my cum. I find her lips as I continue to rock my hips into her, making sure I mark every bit of her.
I finally lower her leg back to the ground. I don’t let her go because I can feel how weak she is. I hold her up with one hand and stuff my dick in my pants with the other.
When I’m done. I assist her with getting dressed. Before we walk out of the bathroom, I pick up the black duffle bag and place a kiss on her lips.
“Never doubt my skills again,” I tease before biting her lip and sucking it into my mouth. The beating at the door causes me to finally let her go. I stroll to the door and unlock it before yanking it open.
“It’s about fucking—” The angry man’s words are cut off when he comes up against me. I glare down at the man that comes to my chest. “Ummm. I’m sorry.” He apologizes before scurrying away.
“I guess he didn’t have to use the bathroom after all.” Brooklyn giggles behind me.
I pull her to me, placing a kiss on her forehead before allowing her to lead me out of the restroom and back to our table.
I pay for our meal before heading back to the hotel where I will climb back into Brooklyn’s heat for the rest of the night.
Chapter 22
Zel
Brooklyn
I wake the next morning with a lot on my mind. We have three days to solve Albany’s murder and clear Walker’s name. If we don’t solve the mystery by then the entire Church organization will be hunting us down. And although I have complete faith in Walker’s capability to keep me alive. I don’t think he can take on the entire Church.
Even though the taunt of death hangs over my head like a swarm of gnats, I still moan as Walker’s tongue continues to do summersaults over my clit. My toes curl into the mattress and my knees lock around his head as a powerful orgasm has me rising from the bed like the undead.
When my soul finally falls back into my body, I drop back down and regain my breath. He makes a trail of light kisses on his journey up to my mouth. I suck my essence off his tongue.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers against my lips.
“Morning.” I blush.
“Get dressed. We have company.” He climbs off the bed, his amazing naked body looks like a sculpture’s fantasy.
Company? What company?
I quickly shower and dress to join him in the living room. I follow the sound of voices, expecting to find Walker and Priest, but what I find is someone new.
A short Asian guy is standing in the center of the room. His alluring slanted eyes turn to me and a genuine smile lights up his face. He’s cute, not overly handsome, but definitely worth taking a second look.
He’s only slightly taller than my five foot seven frame. He’s a lot thinner than Walker, more on the lanky side. His hair is shaved low, but the front hangs in his eyes.
“Hello, Brooklyn. I’m Zel.”
His eyes, though softer than most of the other guys I have met, give away his involvement with the Church. However, he seems the most normal—even more so than Walker.
“Nice to meet you, Zel,” I say, shaking his outstretched hand.
I immediately go to Walker, allowing him to pull me into his chest.
“As I was telling, Hawk. Priest sent me over. After what happened last night, he thinks you guys may need an extra pair of hands. He was going to send Many, but I heard you two didn’t have a great first meeting.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
Zel laughs. “Yeah, but his evaluation denies it.”
I join the laughter. Finally, someone agrees with me. “I think I like him,” I joke.
“Don’t make me kill him,” Walker mumbles before placing a kiss on my temple.
“What’s on the agenda for the day?” Zel says, taking a seat on the couch.
“Lucien is looking into the employees of Heimlich a little deeper. I think one of them, or someone they knew was stealing research from Heimlich.”
“And you think whoever stole that research also killed Kimi?”
Damn, how many names did Albany have, and how did she keep up with them? I have a hard enough time keeping up with my students’ names. I can’t imagine trying to keep up with a bunch of aliases.
“I think they played a huge roll in it.”
Zel nods. “What do we do?”
“I guess we need to look into the next address. There are only three more left,” I answer. That countdown clock starts to tick in my head.
Apparently, Walker can feel my stress level rising because he tightens his hold on me and whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you. We still have time.” From his mouth to god’s ears because I feel like we aren’t any closer to figuring this out.
“That sounds like a plan. Maybe we should look up the last three addresses to see where each takes us.”
Good idea. That never even crossed my mind. I knew Albany wanted me to go in order, but I still could have looked into the addresses.
Knocking at the door has all of our attention swinging toward the foyer.
“You guys expecting someone?”
“No,” Walker replies to Zel’s question.
“And obviously it isn’t Priest. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know how to knock.”
Zel laughs at my joke. He gets it. There’s another knock, this time followed by a voice.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Walker, it’s Gerard. You have a package.”
“A package?” Walker and I say at the same time.
Walker releases me from his hold and heads toward the foyer. He opens the door for Gerard and tells him thank you for delivering the package, before closing the door again. He comes back around the corner, holding a large UPS envelope.
“Wh
o is it from?” He doesn’t answer, instead, he hands it over to me. My hands shake when I read the label. “It’s from Albany.”
My legs damn near give out as an envelope falls from my fingertips. Walker catches it and grabs me around my waist. He hands it to Zel as he ushers me into a dining room table chair.
“Are you all right?”
“How did she send me that?” I’m not prepared for a letter from my deceased sister.
“It’s postdated,” Zel explains.
“Open it,” I say to Zel.
He looks over to Walker first then tears open the envelope. There seems to be nothing but a bunch of papers inside. Zel scans the paperwork, his brows bunching up. He looks up from the documents, his dark eyes colliding with mine.
“They tried to recruit you.”
“What?”
“It’s all right here.” He holds the papers up, his eyes are on Walker. “She has an entire dossier on her.”
Walker jams his fingers in his hair. He turns his back to me and swears. I’m so confused at this moment my head is throbbing.
“I don’t understand. Who tried to recruit me?”
“The Church,” Zel replies. “It says that you have Eidetic memory.”
“I don’t have shit. What the hell is that anyway?”
“Photographic memory,” Walker calmly replies. “Who was her recruiter?”
“Me.” All three of us swing to the opening of the living room to find a well-dressed Priest standing there. His hazel eyes are not the least bit remorseful.
“What’s going on, Priest?” Walker asks.
Priest sighs and pushes away from the wall to stand in the middle of the room.
“I met Brooklyn Creedmoor officially when she was thirteen-years-old.”
I scoff. “No, you didn’t. I would have remembered.” You don’t forget a presence like Priest, no matter how hard you try.
Priest smiles. “Paint me a picture, Brooklyn. Paint it of the first time we met.”
On his demand, a canvas pops in my head. The white background is disrupted with quick strokes, always quick strokes for Priest. My paintbrush flies across the canvas, but it doesn’t paint the scene of him in my house on my couch the day of Albany’s funeral.
The day I would have assumed had been our first meeting. Instead, it paints my favorite park. I remember this day. I was people watching, one of the things I enjoyed doing.
It’s not like I had money to do shit else. Kids were playing and mothers were sitting on benches watching their children. In this park, there was a designated track for runners. On the furthest side from the playground was a group of trees that nearly cut the track off from the rest of the park.
That day a man was running along the track. He oftentimes would be at the park this time of day. School was out and kids would swarm the playground.
I noticed him because he had that look. The one I stayed away from. Every now and again, he would stop to watch the kids and smile.
That day he was so busy watching the kids, he missed the tall man that was running toward him. At the rate they were jogging, the tall man was going to meet him right where the crop of trees were. Both men went behind the trees, but only one came out.
It was nothing big. Nothing that an eight-year-old child would find interesting. I never thought more of it.
When that canvas disappears a new white one comes up. This time my paintbrush recreates that corner of Lexington Ave where all the expensive shops are. I’m thirteen-years-old and I’m on that sidewalk trying to sell paintings to feed me and my sister. One of the paintings is the remake of that day in the park. It’s almost identical to the memory, all the way down to the tall runner that came out on the other side of those trees. Priest.
My eyes spring open at the realization. All three men are watching me like I performed some magic trick.
“You call it painting,” Priest explains. “But it’s Eidetic memory. You have the ability to recall an image from memory after only seeing it once. I discovered your ability when I stumbled across your painting for sale. The Church seldom recruits past the age of ten. They sometimes make special amendments for those children that show a very rare talent. You were one of those children.”
I shake my head. This isn’t an easy pill to swallow. It’s not every day you learn you were almost recruited by fucking assassins. “This is insane. How am I special? I have a good memory, that’s it.”
“Not really,” Zel states, looking down at the papers in his hand. “You’re volatile, easily angered, don’t do well with rules or authority. You’re protective, loyal, and headstrong. You qualify more than I did for this job.”
Priest nods. “You were a perfect candidate and you would have been my last recruit.”
“What happened?” This question is from Walker. My mind is in too much of a whirlwind to make sense of any of this.
A smile touches Priest’s lips and I already know what he’s going to say.
“What did she do?”
He gives an amused grin. “While I was watching you, she was watching me. She followed me back to my home and demanded to know why I was interested in you. She was probably fifty pounds soaking and wet at the time and she was threatening me. I told her who I was and what I wanted.”
“You’re telling me you admitted to a thirteen-year-old girl what you were?” I’m a bit skeptical about that.
“I was going to kill her anyway. I might as well have told her.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “She’s the one that told me you call it painting a picture. She explained that she had a simpler version of it. She could read people after only meeting them once. I was skeptical at first, but she proved it to me.”
“What then, you decided to let her go?”
“No, we made a deal. If I left you alone and destroyed the paperwork on you, she would willingly come to work for me when she turned eighteen.”
A lot of things cross my mind. I was almost recruited by the Church. I always knew something was different about my paintings. I remember telling Albany about them and even she said it was weird. I had no idea it was something special or that it had a name. It was just something that I did.
It also comes to mind that Albany knew about all this since we were thirteen years old. She never once said anything to let me know any of this was going on. I don’t fault her for keeping the secret. I know why she did it and I respect her so much for it, but she never once hinted about any of this.
It also shed a little light on her behavior after that. Now that the canvas pops up in my head and I’m studying everything with new information, it’s clearer. She wasn’t looking for love with those other guys in her youth.
I even asked her once and she laughed it off. She was never in love with any of those boys she dated. She was trying to make someone jealous.
“She was in love with you.” That realization has me a little freaked. There has to be at least a ten-year gap between the two. I’m leaning closer to fifteen.
Priest sighs and shakes his head. “From the moment she walked into my apartment that first time.”
My face must say it all because he frowns. “Never happened. Not even when she started working in the Nunnery. Fem and my relationship was… difficult.”
“But you loved her too?” Walker asks and he seems a bit bothered by this new information. If I’m honest, I would even call his tone and reaction jealous.
“Yes. A fact that I was never able to convey to her.”
“Hold on,” I say standing to my feet. “This is all sweet and everything, but if you were in love with her, why the hell was she working in the Nunnery? You mean to tell me that you weren’t sleeping with her, but you allowed other men to do it?”
“Wait, were we allowed to sleep with her? Damn, I didn’t think that was an option,” Zel says and we all cut our eyes to him before he shrugs.
“Your sister wasn’t a fucking prostitute. She was the only one in the Nunnery that never needed to open her legs to the
Church in order to do her job.” Priest looks to me as if I should have known that. And, well, maybe I did.
“Still,” I argue for the sake of it. “That wasn’t what she signed up for. And did you know that when you put her in the job—that she wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone?”
The hard set to his jaw answers the question he can’t.
“Exactly,” I say in triumph. “You sent my sister to that Nunnery to be a prostitute.”
“Yes, I did,” Priest admits. “I did it to protect her.”
I scoff. “Protect her from what?”
“From this life,” he shouts. “I would share her with five hundred men if it meant keeping her from becoming one of us. Look around you, Brooklyn. This isn’t some college fraternity.
“We are stuck in this life. There is no way out of it. You either die or it kills every fucking ounce of humanity in you. I would never let that happen to her. I did everything I could to protect her.”
“Why not send her away?”
“Because it doesn’t work that way. It was either you or her. And when it came to you, there is nothing she wouldn’t do. Trust me, I tried to get her to let me take you instead. I’m still pretty pissed that I didn’t.”
I stick up my middle finger at him and he winks at me. Fuck him for trying to pull me into that hellhole of a career choice.
“We’re getting sidetracked,” Walker says. “The problem is—if you dropped the recruitment and destroyed the files, how’d Albany get them?”
“I was going to wait to tell you this, but it seems Fem discovered it before I could admit to it. I didn’t exactly destroy the file on little Painter.”
“No shit.” The evidence is right in front of us.
“I did store it, though. It wasn’t until a month ago that I noticed that someone had pulled them. And it wasn’t only your files. There were other shelved files that got pulled.”
This information has Walker flipping out. He paces the floor with his hands in his hair. Even Zel seems concerned.
“Aren’t I too old for this now? You said they stop taking recruits after the age of ten. I’m way past ten.”