by Freya Barker
“Balls of steel and has no problem keeping up with you guys, even in appetite. Despite the questionable taste in pizza,” Aiken comments around a mouthful.
“Give it a rest,” Yanis bites, like he’s been doing all afternoon every time the FBI agent needles him. “And don’t dis the pie, it’s pretty good.”
Jeers go up around the large conference table where all our guys, the two FBI agents, and Bill Evans—who made his own way back from the airport—are eating. We’re just taking an early dinner break during our debriefing before Aiken heads back to Denver.
Shep is back already, having grabbed an afternoon flight after one of Aiken’s agents relieved him from guard duty. Sam—whose last name turned out to be Grossman—was taken to Denver and had surgery to repair the hole I blew in his intestines but is expected to recover. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or upset about that. The bastard played me like a pro, was prepared to kill my boyfriend, and appeared to enjoy building a pyre to crisp me on.
Aiken seems to think he’ll be able to turn the man with a little pressure, but I’m not so sure. Time will tell.
The feds will definitely need something more to bring any charges on Albero. So far, they have a case against Sarrazin but unless they can prove widespread conspiracy, those charges are independent from the Albero family. Anything attributable to Joe died right along with him.
The FBI agent is planning to return to Denver to deliver a formal death notification to Martha Ancaster, Joe’s mother. She apparently just returned from a European river cruise, which explains why Sarrazin was able to use the mountain lodge for his nefarious plans.
Even though he doesn’t have proof of culpability on Guiseppe Albero, Aiken is determined to disrupt the dangerous influence he has with the highest-ranking law enforcement officer in Colorado and the resulting widespread corruption. Delmer Beauregard is the weak link in that chain and nobody’s arguing the man needs to be brought down.
At my request, Yanis drove me straight to the office instead of home first. I took a long, hot shower in the locker room and changed into clean clothes. That and a full belly is all I needed to feel half-human again.
“Should I put on more coffee?” Lena asks, sticking her head into the conference room.
“You don’t need to stick around for that,” Yanis tells her. “Why don’t you head home?”
“I, uh…”
Her hesitation is evident and I get it. It may be unlikely someone will come after her at this point, but you never know. Better safe than sorry.
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to stay vigilant for now?” I offer. “We should be breaking up this party soon anyway. It’s getting late, you may as well hang around and wait for Jake.”
“I can do that,” she answers, a little too eagerly.
Across the table Jake nods at her and Yanis leans close.
“Smart call,” he whispers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
“Goner,” I hear Bill mutter, and a collective snicker goes up from the peanut gallery.
Forty-five minutes later, we drop Aiken off at the airport on our way home. He’s leaving two agents behind to accompany Sarrazin back to Denver when he’s released tomorrow.
The man will have his hands full when he gets back.
When we leave the airport, I twist in my seat and look back at Bill.
“So how was Durango?”
“Good. Been years since I was there, I’d forgotten what a nice place it is.”
“And the meeting with Benedetti?”
“I’ve got a month to recover and get my shit in order—give my notice, sell my house, pack up my stuff, find a place there—and I start December first.”
My grin is wide and heartfelt. I like Evans, he’s a good guy and I’m sure he’ll mesh well with Benedetti.
“Congrats.”
“Yeah, good news,” Yanis says, glancing in his rearview mirror.
“Appreciate the tip.”
“My pleasure.”
I straighten in my seat and Yanis puts a hand on my knee, throwing me a wink.
“All I need now is to find me a woman like you,” Bill pipes up behind us. “Unless I can convince you to drop this deadbeat and head for the mountains with me?”
“Fuck me. You too?” Yanis reacts and I start laughing.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Bill comes back with.
Yanis turns to me.
“I’m gonna have to lock you up in the house,” he grumbles.
“Don’t you dare,” I threaten him. “Or I might take him up on that.”
This time when he meets my eyes, his are amused.
“Oh yeah?”
“You bet. I’ve never had so many attractive offers.”
Chapter Thirty
Yanis
“I dare you to tell me you’ve had a better offer than this.”
Bree wears a cheeky smile at my words until I bend down, purse my lips, and blow a breath over her distended clit. The resulting full body shiver running through her puts a smug grin on my face.
“Quit teasing,” she scolds me when I lift my head again.
“Let me get this right, you’re accusing me of teasing?”
Her mouth sets in a stubborn line and she tries to roll away from me, but with her legs over my shoulders, and my hands holding her thighs in place, she’s not going far.
“Yanis!”
“Haven’t moved, Tygrys.”
This time I take the bundle of nerves between my lips and suck lightly, but the moment I feel her thighs start to press against my ears I lift my mouth.
She lets out a frustrated yelp and flings a pillow at me. Maybe I’ve teased her enough. The truth is, this dragged-out anticipation is taking its toll on me as well.
I lift myself from between her legs, crawl up her body, and am about to settle my hips in the cradle of hers when I suddenly find myself on my back, Bree straddling me.
“Payback.”
The promise is delivered with a sly little grin.
She proceeds to do exactly that, subjecting me to the sweetest torture until she has me pleading for release.
She finally puts us both out of our misery when she takes me deep inside her. Both already well-primed, it’s a short, wild ride to an explosive climax.
“That was fun,” she mumbles, draped over me as we both catch our breath. She lifts her head and her eyes twinkle. “Can we do that again?”
I bark out a laugh.
“Fuck, Bree, I’m gonna need more recovery time than that.”
On the nightstand my phone starts buzzing. An opportune reprieve.
Bree reaches over and grabs it, checking the call display.
“It’s Aiken.” She winces as she hands it to me. “It’s also nine thirty. I’ll call Lena, tell her we’ll be in shortly.”
She rolls off me and out of bed as I sit up and answer the call.
“Tried calling you at the office. Catch you at a bad time?” the agent asks.
I look over to see Bree walk into the bathroom with her own phone to her ear, naked as the day she was born. My dick instantly stirs again.
Christ. Age hasn’t diminished her effect on me.
“Just running a little late.”
He chuckles on the other end.
“Been a busy few days,” he observes.
“That it has.”
It was two days ago I almost lost Bree again, and although she seems to have bounced back just fine, it’s left a mark on me. It would be easy to fall into the trap of thinking the threat is now gone with Flynn dead and Sarrazin in federal custody, but I know the true power behind this mess was not with those two men.
Albero is still out there and with Beauregard in his pocket, we can’t afford to dismiss him.
“What’s up?” I ask, as I listen to the shower turn on in the bathroom.
“Have you seen any news this morning? Read a paper?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Okay, well, let me update you. I s
poke with Martha Ancaster yesterday morning. She hadn’t been informed yet her son died, so the news came as a bit of a shock. According to her their relationship had been strained in recent years.”
“She tell you why?”
“Not specifically, but I got the impression she was aware of his relationship to the Albero family and not happy about that. She made it clear she holds his father responsible.”
“Understandable.”
“Yeah. Anyway, she must’ve gotten busy right after I left because this morning, I turned on the news and Beauregard’s face was all over it. She sent copies of a paternity test Delmer had insisted on thirty-some years ago to local and national networks and planted the seed of his involvement with organized crime. Massive exposé and the reporters are digging. My phone has been ringing off the hook this morning with demands for a full investigation into the Attorney General’s alliances.”
The grin on my face spreads involuntary when I feel some of the lingering weight leave my shoulders. With his credibility in question, not only his power, but his usefulness would diminish. One down, and only one left to go.
“Glad to know they’re finally reporting some positive news.”
“You and me both,” Aiken says, laughing. “Feeling a lot better about matters this morning.”
“For sure.”
“One more thing and then I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing when I called.” I hear the smile in his voice, which means he has a pretty good idea. “Sam Grossman is talking. Didn’t take much after he realized it could easily be made to look like he had a much larger role than he actually did. Decided to turn state’s evidence in the case against Sarrazin, and cooperate with any investigation into the old man in return for protection in the WITSEC program.”
I swing my legs out of bed when I hear the shower turn off. Too bad I’ll be too late to join her.
“And the good news keeps on coming,” I observe. “Albero must be feeling the heat.”
“I’m sure he is. Especially since Sarrazin’s pretrial hearing is scheduled for tomorrow.”
“Do you think he’ll make bail?”
“Not likely with the charges against him, but I’ve learned to never say never.”
“Keep me up-to-date.”
I’m already heading for the bathroom.
“Will do.”
Ending the call, I toss the phone back on the bed and push open the bathroom door. Wrapped in only a towel, Bree is in front of the vanity, rubbing lotion on her arms.
“You seem happy,” she comments, looking at my distorted reflection in the steamed-up mirror.
I walk up behind her, my front brushing up against her back.
“I am. Very happy.”
To illustrate I rock my hips, pressing my revitalized cock to the swell of her ass.
“I can tell.” She leans her body into mine. “Good news?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it later.”
I reach for the shower faucet to turn the water back on and then in one deft move peel the towel from Bree.
“Hey! I already showered.”
With one hand spread wide on her lower belly, and the other covering a breast, I turn her toward the stream.
“I think you missed a few spots,” I whisper with my lips against her ear, as I dip a finger inside her pussy. “I can take care of those for you.”
She rolls her head back against my shoulder, tilting her chin to smile up at me.
“Is that so?”
“Hmmm.”
I sandwich her between my body and the tile shower wall, and press my lips to the side of her neck as I work my finger inside her.
“Yanis?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Best offer I ever had.”
Bree
“What time are you leaving?”
Yanis looks up from his desk.
He’s supposed to pick up Bill and give him a ride to the airport. Evans is returning to Denver after his follow-up doctor’s appointment yesterday, and Yanis is heading to Salt Lake City this afternoon to meet with a new prospective client.
“I need about twenty minutes to get this proposal finished up and then I’ll head out. I should be back tonight, though.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll say goodbye now.”
I round his desk and bend down to press a kiss to his mouth. One he immediately claims as he slips his tongue between my lips.
We tend to minimize public displays of affection at work, but in the relative privacy of his office all bets are off.
I smile down at him when he finally lets me up for air and move out of his reach.
“Be safe. I’ll wait up for you.”
A wolfish grin spreads over his face.
“We’ll have the house to ourselves,” he points out.
“Yes.”
The grin disappears and his eyes heat as he looks in mine.
“Be naked when I get there. We have some christening to do. We’ll start with the kitchen.”
A warm tingle starts low in my belly at the promise in his words.
“Maybe,” I tease.
I slowly back out of his office, only to bump into Dimas who stands right outside, his hands clamped over his ears and an expression of abject horror on his face.
“Just so you know, I’m never eating at your house again,” he announces.
I snort in part amusement and part mortification before darting for my desk. When Yanis leaves a while later, he stops by and leans in.
“Naked,” he whispers in my ear before walking away.
“I can hear you,” Dimi barks from the desk next to mine.
I’m left with a blush on my face and a smile on my lips.
It’s been a week since I ended up facedown in a firepit with a dead man on top of me. I can’t say the experience hasn’t resulted in some vivid nightmares on a few occasions, but each time Yanis was there, his warm body and sleepy voice quick to banish any lingering chills.
Surprisingly, living under one roof hasn’t really required much of an adjustment, despite each of us having lived alone for so long. Maybe it’s because even when we weren’t a couple, we were in tune with the other. You don’t work closely with someone for that many years—especially someone you have a history with—and not develop a good sense of who they are.
We already know most of each other’s likes and dislikes, habits and quirks, and even with Bill as the proverbial fifth wheel, moving in together has been a notably easy transition.
Mind you, we’ve had lots to distract us. Among other things there are Yanis’s parents, who are still bunking in my apartment. They’ve seen a few properties and this afternoon they’re viewing one place—about ten minutes east of Yanis’s…I mean our house—for the second time.
Anna asked me to come, mostly because Yanis won’t be here and Dimi has his hands full at home, I suspect. Although, she claims she needs a woman’s input. I’m not quite sure how helpful I’ll be but I’m game. I like hanging out with his parents. They ease the ever-present ache in my heart my own mother’s loss left behind.
“I haven’t been out this way,” I comment from the back seat when Max drives us out of town.
The few houses I can see from the road are set back a ways and look to be expensive. Understandable with these views.
We’ve just passed what could be considered a mansion on our left when the road turns to gravel. About two hundred yards farther, Max turns into a long driveway that meanders through a copse of trees before the farmhouse becomes visible.
It’s definitely older and more modest, sitting atop a hill with nothing but nature surrounding it.
“It beautiful.”
Anna twists in her seat and smiles back at me.
“It is, isn’t it?”
When we pull up to a couple of cars already parked in front of the house, I see a familiar figure step out of the front door.
Shit.
The real estate agent, forgot about her.
&nb
sp; She’s all smiles for the Mazurs until she spots me getting out of the car.
“Megan, right?”
I step forward offering my hand. Killing with kindness is the best way to defuse a tense situation. Or so I hope.
She can barely hide the sour expression on her face yet has no choice but to put her limp hand in mine.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
Like hell she doesn’t. She’s the kind of woman who probably did some research on her perceived competition.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Anna twitters with a nervous chuckle. “This is our daughter-in-law, Bree. You haven’t met?”
“No,” Megan says.
“We have,” I answer at the same time. “Except no formal introductions were made,” I add quickly.
“I see. Glad that’s been remedied.” Anna smiles at the woman. “Our oldest son, Yanis, has finally come to his senses. He’s been in love with Bree for decades,” she exaggerates, “but it’s taken him this long to make his move. We couldn’t be happier.”
She’s laying it on so thick I’m pretty sure this encounter was the objective to my coming all along. Sneaky.
I’m grateful for the distraction when the owner joins us outside. Clive is an old man, if I were to guess I’d say north of eighty, with a kind smile but sad eyes.
As it turns out his wife of sixty years passed away this past July and as he explains, he’s lost his motivation to keep the farm going. With neither of his children interested in taking over, he’s decided to sell.
He takes us on a tour of the house, which is dated, but well-kept and looks to be in sound condition. Then he leads us to the barn where some farm equipment is stored, which he indicates will be part of the sale.
Finally, Clive opens a door into what may have been a tack room and gestures for me to lead the way.
“Oh, my goodness,” escapes me when four little furballs stumble over each other to get to me.
I love dogs. Used to love taking care of Radar’s pup, Phil, when he was on assignment, but I haven’t had much of a chance since he and Hillary got together.
I go down on my knees and am assaulted by four wriggling bodies and wet kisses as the four vie for my attention. Their mother is a pretty English Shepherd who sidles up beside Clive, her head at his knee as she keeps an eye on her brood.