by Tasha Fawkes
With everything that had happened over the past few weeks, and especially the past few days, it hit me hard. The moment I left this apartment, everything would change. I knew this was just one small thing. My entire life was going to change—a lot.
“I still think about that day I answered the ad on Craigslist. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
I could do nothing but nod, blinking back tears.
“Yes, your life is going to change, but so is everyone else’s,” Selena said. “That’s life. Nothing stays the same forever, you know. While I certainly didn’t expect certain things to happen, I do have to tell you I don’t really have any regrets for insisting that you go for it. Not really.”
“You don’t?”
“No. And you want to know why?”
I licked my dry lips. “Of course.”
She smiled. “Because I’ve never seen you happier than I see you when you’re talking about Marcus. It’s like your eyes light up, and your face gets this happy look on it. You may not believe it right now, Allie, but I believe that you’ll have a wonderful life ahead of you with Marcus. The road to get there may be bumpy, but I have no doubt that you two were meant for each other.”
Tears flooded my eyes again as I stepped to Selena and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. Her arms encompassed my waist, and we just stood there, hugging it out like best friends do. I didn’t know what I would’ve done without her wisdom over these past weeks and months, but I knew that she would always be there for me. As I would always be there for her.
Later that evening, Marcus helped me rearrange the boxes that had been delivered from my apartment to his penthouse. He wore a small smile, and I couldn’t help myself. I just watched him, smiling as I recalled Selena’s words. I wasn’t sure how it would come to be, but I also felt that we would make it through this trial. It wouldn’t be easy, not by a long shot. But I was willing to run the gauntlet if Marcus was.
He must have felt me watching him because he suddenly turned around and looked at me. “I’m aching for you.”
Without saying a word, I slowly undressed, leaving my clothes in a pile on the bedroom floor. Naked, I strode into the bathroom, my pussy tingling with anticipation of what might happen next. I smiled as I heard him disrobing in the bedroom. I reached into the shower and turned the knobs, and testing the water with my foot, I stepped inside, pulling the glass door shut behind me.
I stood under the spray, allowing the water to wash away some of the dust and weariness of packing. I glanced through the growing fog on the glass and smiled as I watched his shadow moving into the bathroom. Without a word, he opened the door and stepped into the shower with me.
I reached for my bottle of lavender body wash, squeezed some of the thick gel into my hand, and began to lather my breasts. He watched me, his cock growing longer and bigger as he did, his pupils dilating with desire. My hands moved down my stomach and hips before he reached for me.
Leaning me against the shower wall, his feet straddling mine, sheltering me from the warm pelting of water, my skin slick and smooth with the luscious aroma of lavender, he stroked his hands over my breasts, tweaking my nipples. His fingers were strong and firm and confident.
He then slid a hand down my abdomen, past my carefully sculpted mound, and then cupped my pussy. I gasped. His left hand continued to play with my nipples, first one, and then the other as his other stroked my slit, my pussy wet and hot and throbbing in desire. I glanced down and eyed his cock, hard, and erect.
He dipped his head lower, and his mouth encompassed my nipple, sucking, gently tugging until it grew into a hard, erect nub. I wrapped my fingers around his engorged cock, hard and ready to plunge deep into me as he pleasured me with his mouth, his tongue, and his fingers. He widened his stance still more and pulled my hips closer, nestling the tip of his cock against my slit. I grabbed his ass, my fingers pulling him in for more.
His hand touched every part of me, and every part of my body responded. He teased every inch of my breasts, my skin burning with a hunger that took my breath away. I instinctively arched my back, offering my desire-filled peaks in invitation.
I was sublimely aware of every sensation and soon wanted to beg for release while at the same time hoping this lasted forever. I stroked his body with much the same passion in which he stroked mine as my grip on his throbbing shaft tightened. I then slid my fingers lower to cradle his balls. I squeezed gently, smiling as he moaned, his mouth finding mine again.
Without warning, he lifted me in his arms and carried me out of the shower, out of the bathroom, and tossed me wet and dripping on the bed. His chest heaved, his muscles glistening as I stared up at him, his jaw tight with desire. He climbed onto the bed and lay on top of me, breathing heavily as his lips once again returned to mine. Our tongues played tag as I moaned, my passion growing.
His hand returned to my mound, his thumb gently swirling, his fingers probing, dipping ever lower. My desire was obvious as a surge of wetness lubricated his finger.
“You’re always so wet for me.”
And I was. Always.
My body pulsed with anticipation. He maneuvered himself between my knees, and without hesitation, he dove deep inside.
I sucked in a breath. I belonged to him and always would. I knew that I would never be happy in the arms of any other man. Yet, for a brief moment, I felt an overwhelming sadness surge through me.
Pushing sad thoughts from my mind, I was determined to only enjoy these moments, his touch. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer. His weight braced on his forearms, he thrust deeper, filling me. He slowly withdrew, but I grabbed his ass, urging him back again. After several slow strokes, we settled into a steady rhythm, each of his thrusts exploding my senses with nothing but sensations. Our breathing grew ragged.
My hips rocked in unison with his, both of us now so familiar with each other. I moved with him, giving and taking and still wanting more. Finally, and with a shudder, I reached my peak. My mind filled with a white hazy sense of floating as wave after wave of hot, pulsing pleasure prompted a long, low, luxurious moan from my lips.
I wanted more.
I wanted everything.
But could I have it?
Closing my eyes, I refused to let the questions enter my mind. I needed him. Needed this.
When he pulled away, I nearly cried from the loss of his heat. “Where are you going?”
He chuckled and moved down my body, plunging his tongue into my naval as a finger plunged inside my body, then two. “Don’t worry, I’m right here, sweetheart.”
He twisted and thrust his fingers, curling them until the edges of my vision grew dim.
“So tight,” he growled. “So beautiful. So perfect. So wet.”
His words were as seductive as his touch, and I watched him move down my body, his mouth joining his fingers. My hands sank into his hair tongue circled my clit.
His fingers curled inside me, finding that hidden place that made my entire body hum and pulse. He pressed harder inside me as he sucked my sensitive nub. My body arched as he drove his fingers even deeper, curling them into the walls. His thumb circled my clit, making my eyes roll back in my head.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.”
I held onto his hair as I lifted my hips. Grinding, needing, taking. Craving. “Please.”
His nostrils flared, and he drove his fingers harder, faster. “Please what?”
The edges of my vision grew dim as my eyes focused only on his face. My body was tightening, building, cresting as I raced for the edge. His hand moved under me, lifting me for better access as his tongue plunged inside, his teeth raking over my skin.
“Please.”
It was a wail. It was a prayer. A plea from the deepest part of my soul. How could anything feel this good?
He tongued my clit, drawing it into his mouth, pulling and sucking, driving me insane. I was lost, totally his as he changed pressure and strokes, never letting
me know what to expect. The fingers were back, pounding and twisting until I was crying out a second time, my body trembling with the release.
I came again powerfully, my thighs clamping around his head as I rode out the tremendous pleasure he’d gifted me with, but he didn’t stop. He continued to lick and soothe as I recovered.
“See how good you taste,” he said as he crawled up my body. His mouth came down on mine as he settled between my legs. I licked his lips, tasted the saltiness and sweetness. I didn’t hesitate to kiss him harder.
Then he was there, his cock nudging my entrance, spreading me open. Balancing on his forearms, he plunged deep inside me. My internal muscles clenched, and my legs followed suit. I wrapped them around his waist and crossed my ankles, hanging on for dear life as he thrust with powerful strokes, holding nothing back.
I tried to pull him even deeper inside, my pelvis meeting him, thrust for thrust. With a low growl, his body stiffened, and I felt him come.
He collapsed on top of me and I happily took his weight before he rolled to the side, pulling me with him. His lips continued to nuzzle my neck, eliciting goosebumps over my skin.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised.
I shivered, wishing with everything inside me that his words would be true.
Sixteen
Marcus
A dull yet sporadic knocking pulled me from a deep slumber. I jolted awake, frowning, automatically reaching for my gun before I realized I’d put it in the bedside drawer rather than tucking it under my pillow. I froze, listening. I heard nothing except Allie’s soft breathing next to me. I glanced at the digital clock on my bedside table. Three o’clock in the morning? Fuck! Nothing good happened at three o’clock in the morning, and—
More knocking, not loudly, but more insistent. Someone knocking at the front door. If someone was here to kill me, they certainly wouldn’t be knocking. Even so, a visitor at this hour was never good. Whoever it was wouldn’t be bringing good news.
I rose from the bed as quickly and gently as I could, not wanting to wake Allie. I pulled open my bedside drawer and retrieved my gun, then pulled on a robe and belted it around my waist. I stepped out of the bedroom into the hallway, closing the door softly behind me.
I strode to the front door and tapped the iPad on the table, pulling up the camera view I’d recently had installed for the entrance. With everything that had been happening lately, I wasn’t taking any chances.
It was Hayes.
Cautiously, not trusting anyone in my circle, I opened the door an inch, the gun held against the frame, my finger wrapped around the trigger. Hayes was standing in front of my door in civilian clothes, a messenger type bag hanging from his shoulder. He was careful to make sure that I saw his hands were empty, not tucked into a pocket. Even so, I opened the door a little wider, warily poked my head farther into the hallway where the camera didn’t reach, but all was as it should be. I gestured him inside.
“Be quiet. Allie is sleeping in the bedroom down the hall.”
For a moment, he looked confused, then simply shrugged. I gestured toward the dining room table, where he gently placed the messenger bag dangling from the strap over his shoulder. It didn’t contain a computer.
“I’ve got some information for you,” he said softly.
“Sit down.”
He did, albeit slowly, his wary eyes never leaving mine. I had never asked him to do anything like this for me and knew he was nervous. Any man in his position should be. If Niall found out, if anyone found out, he could kiss his life goodbye.
I studied the satchel, not sure I really wanted to know what he’d discovered. Whatever was in that satchel would change my life, I had no doubt about it. Did I really want to go through this? I glanced down the darkened hallway toward my bedroom, where Allie lay sleeping. Was she worth all this?
As soon as the question hit me, I knew she was worth anything. She was the only good thing that had ever happened to me, and I didn’t want to lose her. The decision she asked of me, the ultimatum she’d given me was one of the most difficult challenges of my life, but I would do it…for her. First, however, I needed information, and that information, good or bad, was likely in the satchel setting on the table in front of me.
Hayes lifted the flap of the bag, rummaged around, then pulled out a manila folder. I stared at it, thinking that if I didn’t want to go through with this, if I didn’t want to finally learn the truth about everything, now would be the time to say so. I didn’t.
“You were right about the ATF and the feds,” Hayes whispered, sliding the folder across the table. “There’s a real shit storm coming.”
I lifted an eyebrow, not ready to reach for the folder.
“You can count on one thing, Marcus. When there’s this kind of cooperation between federal agencies, it’s a sure sign they’re getting ready for a big takedown.” He ruefully shook his head. “I shouldn’t even be here. I was careful to make sure I wasn’t followed, but I still got the heebie-jeebies. I didn’t even call you to let you know I would be coming, because I’m afraid my phones could be bugged.” He lifted a hand. “Don’t worry, I got a tech guy checking it out. You should do the same.”
For the first time since we moved Allie’s equipment out of my penthouse, I wished it was still here. We could’ve run a sweep.
“So why did you come here?” I asked. “Now? In the middle of the night?”
“Because I have something of great interest to me, and to you.”
I waited for him to explain, hiding my impatience.
“First, I want to get paid.” He pushed a card with a series of numbers on it over to me. An oversea account, I realized. “Fuck the department. I owe them nothing for the number of times they fucked me over.”
I knew there was no real love lost between Hayes and the upper echelon of Philly law enforcement. He’d been dinged and demoted several times over the years for numerous infractions and been investigated by their internal affairs department more than once. He was holding onto his detective rank by a mere thread.
He looked at me now, then at the folder he pushed a couple of inches closer to me.
“Go ahead, open it.” He saw my hesitance and shrugged. “Okay, I’ll give you the synopsis.”
He glanced down the hallway to make sure no one hovered there. I did too. With the door closed and us sitting in the dining area, there was little chance of Allie hearing anything we said. Still, Hayes continued speaking in a soft, gravelly voice.
“At the time your parents were killed in that car accident, your father was leading the team of detectives tasked with taking down the Irish syndicate operating in Philly from the seventies through the early nineties.” He paused meaningfully. “The same syndicate that would become the Philly Outfit a year later.”
While I had long known the Irish syndicate was present in Philadelphia long before the Outfit had formed, I had never bothered to research who was who in the syndicate then. Back in the day, the mob, as it was generally known regardless of origin or cultural designation, had ruled many of the country’s major cities. That was nothing new.
“So?”
“So, at the time your father was investigating the syndicate, the branch here was led by none other than by Niall Burns.”
Well, that kind of made sense too. Niall had never really discussed how long he’d been the leader of the syndicate here in Philly, not when I took over, not as I was being groomed for the position for years, and certainly not when I was a teenager, when I knew little about it.
“That syndicate would later become the Philly Outfit, and during a sting operation in ninety-three, Niall’s son was killed by cops.”
His son? Wait, now I was confused. Niall had a son?
“A couple of weeks after that, your parents were killed in a crash. The accident report was filed a few weeks later but was buried by the powers that be at the time.” He paused, looking uncertain as to whether to continue.
I frowned. I kn
ew about the accident. It had been winter. My father had hit an icy spot on the road. He slid out of control and went down an embankment, rolling the car several times.
“I have the real accident report,” Hayes said, pulling another folder from his satchel and pushed it to the center of the table.
The real accident report?
I was still processing that statement when he continued, “The original report says that the brakes of your parents’ car had been tampered with.”
What? I sat straight up, confused. Their brakes had been cut? Why had I never learned about this? I asked Hayes that very question.
He shrugged. “Nothing further came out of the investigation,” he said softly. “At the time, the powers that be figured that it was someone who just wanted a detective killed. We had plenty of that back in those days.”
I needed time to think about all this, to look through the reports contained in the folders sitting on the table in front of me. Hayes reached into his satchel one more time and pulled out yet another folder. He stared at it for several moments, then placed it on the table as well, pushing it toward me with his finger as if he were loath to touch it. I glanced at him again, my mind already swimming, my mouth dry, my heart thudding dully in my chest. What else?
“You were right about the mole in your organization.”
“You know who it is?” Hayes nodded but wouldn’t look at me. I leaned forward, both hands lying flat on the tabletop, a myriad of emotions racing through me. “Who?” I wanted to know, needed to know, but at the same time was hesitant to know.
He pushed the card with the numbers on it closer to me. I understood.
Standing, I walked back to the iPad and opened one of my accounts. Tapping in his numbers, I transferred an amount that made the man’s eyes widen before sitting back down.
Still, he blew out a long breath before finally saying, “You need to look no further than Niall Burns.”
Hayes’s voice, softer than a whisper, spoke the words that momentarily stopped my heart. To say I was stunned was an understatement.