The Monroe Sisters

by Aliyah Burke

  “What?”

  “She may not feel comfortable sharing with a man. Especially one who is her boss.”

  “It’s my job to protect her and that’s one I failed at. Hell, I failed to protect you as well and you got shot. She got beat and hit by a car.”

  Tara didn’t lose her calm or anything, just reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “Regardless, she may not feel comfortable talking to a man. Why don’t you go get something to drink from the cafeteria and come back later.”

  It took him a minute before the words leaving her mouth sank in and he nodded. “Okay.”

  He walked back to Wendy, bent down and settled a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “I like that she calls you Drew.” Wendy’s voice was soft and she spoke with care, pushing air by her cracked and bloodied lips.

  He squeezed her shoulder and stepped back, looking once more at Tara, who had nothing to show him in her expression. He wasn’t sure what to think about that. At all.

  During the time away from them, he placed some calls and set up for this final meeting. Now that she was out of the game, he had to do it. There was a secretary, but as he thought about it, he’d not gone to her for anything in years, opting to utilize Wendy instead because, quite frankly, she kicked ass at her job.

  Anger still nipped at his heels when he made his way back to the room. Answers. Dammit, he wanted answers.

  Pausing outside the door, he was shocked to hear laughter coming from the room. The door wasn’t shut all the way and he pushed it open as silently as he could. Tara was seated in the chair beside Wendy, feet up on the cushion, with her chin resting on her knees.

  She’d removed her hair from the long braid it had been in and all that black, silky goodness streamed around her lithe frame. Wendy had been moved up a bit in bed but he couldn’t see anything of Tara’s face. Her back was to him and her hair hid the rest.

  “I don’t have sisters. I think it would have been nice to have some,” Wendy said. “Sounds like the three of you got into some wild situations.”

  “We’re a close family for sure. I have dinner with them at least one time a week and we do a family dinner once a week with our parents.”

  Wendy yawned and Tara rose. “You should get some more sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll braid your hair for you, nothing tight but something to keep it out of your face, okay?”

  “Thank you. I’m really glad you are fine after being shot.”

  “And I’m glad you’re going to be. You need anything, you have them call for me, all right?”

  “I will, but I don’t want to be a hassle.”

  “You’re not, but I will not be happy if I learn you needed something and didn’t call either myself or Drew.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. I’m going to go—I feel him lurking over behind me. I’ll see you in the morning.” She moved past him. “I’ll be outside. Don’t stay long, she’s exhausted.”

  Again, Andrew listened to his wife and within fifteen minutes they were on their way home. He drove the cleared roads, sliding on his sunglasses to avoid the glare from the snow. He’d already checked the weather and more was due tonight.

  When he turned up the driveway to the home, her sharp intake of breath was music to his ears. Perhaps she had missed this place as much as he knew it had her. He observed her as she climbed out past him once he’d opened the door for her and gazed around.

  He walked up behind her and pressed tight to her, one hand splayed against her abdomen, bringing her flush to him and nipped the shell of her ear. “Welcome home, love,” he whispered in Romansh.

  She didn’t reply but she didn’t pull away from him. After a bit, he guided her inside the house, needing something to focus on other than her and how much he wanted to strip her naked and push his cock deep inside her. Andrew longed to have her spread out beneath him, hair falling in silken waves on the pristine-white pillows. Except for the one he had under her hips, elevating her that slight amount so he could hit her deeper and make her scream his name, louder and louder with each penetrating stroke.

  “Bags are in the bedroom,” he said, guiding her to his office.

  Her steps grew hesitant as he got them closer to the room.

  “What is it, Tara?”

  “If you have work to do, go do it. I’d rather not be around if that’s what you are needing to focus on, which as there is a takeover attempt occurring, you do have.”

  “Nope,” he said without further explanation.

  The moment the door closed behind them with a click, he captured her mouth with his own. Needing her taste to flow over him, embed in him. Remind him there was something in this world he gave a damn about and it was worth fighting for.

  With a low purr, she pushed into him. Tara wrapped her arms around him, holding him tighter than she’d done back in her place, and he didn’t mind. In fact, he’d love to be held tighter still.

  Pushing his tongue deep within her mouth, she whimpered and sucked on it. Her nails began digging into the nape of his neck.

  More! His blood pumped, reminding him how much he wanted her. His cock grew swollen and thick, pressing with uncomfortable tightness against the material of his slacks.

  Tara didn’t wait for anything. She grabbed his belt and unbuckled it. She whisked his zipper down and he moaned in pleasure and need as her small, strong hand closed over him through his boxers.

  “Tara,” he rasped.

  “Talk later,” she mumbled.

  The second her heated skin curled around his dick, he knew she was right. There wasn’t any reason for him to continue to deny what he was looking for and, by all her actions, what she was after as well.

  With a low roar, he lifted her and spun them so there was a wall behind her. She slammed against it, eyes widening from the force of his movement. The raw need and desire overflowing in her own gaze let him know she was fine. Hunger was there and his one goal was to feed it.

  Mouth devouring hers, he ate all her screams, moans and whimpers as he prevented her from sliding down. She wrapped her amazing, strong legs around him and held him how he wanted. As if she were scared to let him go.

  He captured her breasts, using his lower body to keep her aloft. Yes, her legs around him helped but his mind was focused on the spot his cock rested against. Her pussy. He would swear before the Hauge that he could feel her heat pumping into him, egging him on. Encouraging him to continue doing this.

  Words escaped him. This wasn’t a time for slow lovemaking with his wife. She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled, hard enough that he growled low in the back of his throat and bucked against her. She opened her eyes and nipped his tongue, which elicited another growl from him.

  She snapped her perfect white teeth in his direction before kissing him once more. As she kissed, she shrugged out of her button-down, leaving her in the cream bra that covered only part of her breasts and plumped them up like a motherfucking offering that he wasn’t about to refuse.

  Leaving her mouth wasn’t an easy task—he snarled between her lips and this time his mouth clamped over her breast. She moaned and pushed up, allowing him to take in more of the flesh. He twirled it around, grazing the tip with his teeth.

  She trembled and purred. His cock pressed with insistence against her. Making love to both breasts, he drew down the silk of her bra, now soaked through, and blew on her exposed nipples. She shuddered.

  “Drew.” Her breathing came fast and furious. She wasn’t screaming his name enough, however. And that was what he wanted.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Oh fuck yes! Right there, don’t you dare fucking stop,” Tara cried as Drew took her in the kitchen, hard and fast.

  “Never.” His growl rolled from his mouth down to dance over her clit, combining with his thumb as he rolled the highly sensitive stiff bud beneath the pad.

  His hold on her was proprietary and demanding. She loved every second of it. They’d come do
wn to get a late-night snack. Right now, the ice cream was melting on the counter beside her and the chocolate syrup bottle had fallen to its side, a few drops having spilled onto the marble countertop close enough that her fingers from one hand slipped through it as she held on to any purchase she could find.

  Her feet weren’t touching the floor and her arms quivered as Drew held her pinned between his heated physique and the cold marble. He powered into her, unrelenting, unending. Fucking perfect.

  His blue eyes, so dark they bordered on black, held hers with intense focus. She couldn’t look away, even if she’d wanted to. Her throat was raw from all the screaming he’d pulled from her and she’d willingly do it all over again.

  “Shit,” she rasped, bucking her hips, taking him in as deep as he could be within her. Her body shuddered as she came hard, coating his shaft with her cream.

  His teeth were bared in a feral smile as he increased the speed of his thrusts. God, she wanted this every fucking day. Every. Fucking. Day.

  She had her entire upper body laid back against the counter, but her arms held her up. He bent down and ran his tongue up from her belly button to the valley between her breasts. When his teeth grazed her taut nipples, she whimpered. When he nipped them, she screamed.

  Lips to lips, he drove deep one final time and shot loads of his seed into her. She trembled and purred as he slipped his arms around her and held her tight to the hard planes of his chest. Cock still deep inside her, he carried her back to the bedroom and placed her down on the massive mattress.

  His intensity faded and he stared at her in the soft light from the battery-operated candles along the bedside table. Everything about him, with the exception of his body, softened. He took her hands and stretched them out over her head, lacing their fingers together.

  Slow and deliberate, he moved within her heat. Withdrawing and pushing ahead once more. Priming all the nerve endings in her core to a nearly unbearable state. Never once did he take his gaze from her.

  “Watch me, Tara,” he ordered in a soft tone. “I want you to know who’s making love to you.”

  Eyes half-lidded, she tightened her grip on his hands. “I’ve never had a problem knowing it was you, Drew. Ain’t but one man in the world who knows how to make my body sing like this.”

  “And when I wake up in the morning?”

  She arched like a cat, damn near purring as he hit that perfect spot. “I’d say you need to let me sleep because you’ve kept me up all night.”

  His grin was fire to her blood. When he broke eye contact and put his mouth down by her ear, she closed her eyes and just gave herself over to the emotions of feeling, living the experience and enjoying every second of the time they got to spend together.

  His words were in French this time and she sighed with heavy contentment as he spoke to her. Any of his words were amazing when they fell from his lips in a different language.

  * * * *

  When she woke after eight, she was alone in the bed but could hear the shower running. After rising, she padded naked to the large closet and opened it. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Her clothes were still there. It was as if she hadn’t left.

  She reached in and withdrew a robe then slipped it on—the heavy flannel on the inside, silk on the out was one of her favorites. She put on some house slippers then she made her way down to the kitchen and froze once more.

  “Mrs. Hilly?”

  The housekeeper they’d had when she’d lived there with him was cleaning up the counter where they’d played last night. She turned and a smile cracked her weathered face. Mrs. Hilly dropped the rag to the countertop and hurried over to Tara, engulfing her in a hug before she knew what had happened.

  “You’ve come home. Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you back here. He’s been a complete bear with you gone.” She pulled back and smiled again then yanked Tara close once more. “Are you here to stay? You need to be in the house and I would love to have some little kids to clean up after.”

  That was a phrase that was akin to her being doused in the arctic waters of Greenland. Even so, Tara didn’t allow her smile to slip one iota. Instead, she stepped back, fixed it firmly in place and ran a gaze over the woman who’d been so kind to her during her previous stay.

  “You’re looking wonderful, Mrs. Hilly.”

  “You are too, a bit skinny. Haven’t you been eating?” She waved and shook her head. “I’m thinking you’ve not been being fed enough.” This time there was a hand pat. “That’s okay, I’ll change that, I’m going to get you all fed.”

  Just what I don’t need is an endless supply of food going in my mouth and landing on my hips.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She patted her steel-gray bun and smiled. “I’ve missed you too. Are you back for good?” Her gaze flitted from Tara to the countertop she’d been cleaning. “From the looks of things, I’d say the two of you are dealing with mended fences.”

  Tara flushed. Of course she would have found the chocolate sauce, ice cream and other things they’d left lying around.

  Mrs. Hilly clucked her tongue. “The Mister and I never played quite like this when he was alive. Makes me wish we had.”

  Yep, she was officially embarrassed. Tara shook her head and stepped back. When the housekeeper winked at her she smiled in return. A soft chime rang through the house and Mrs. Hilly made her way out of the kitchen, only to return with two policemen in plain clothing—and not the ones from the hospital.

  In an instant, Tara was on alert. House visits didn’t always bode well for people. Tightening her grip on the robe, she met each of their gazes with aplomb.

  “These police officers are asking about Baron Coleman,” Mrs. Hilly said.

  “He should be in his room or the office, you can go get him.” She noticed the way the taller one’s gaze flicked between them, following the conversation, and she realized at least one of them knew English. Tara had to provide Mrs. Hilly with a secondary nod before the woman left the room. Even then it wasn’t willingly, and she knew that the trip to get Drew wouldn’t be long.

  They stared at her, one of them being a complete unprofessional in his perusal of her form.

  “Why are you here?” The taller one posed the question, and her lip began to curl right away and she struggled to make sure she could get herself under control.

  “Why are you here?” She went to the fridge and opened it. As always, there was no shortage of food and she skimmed for the orange juice that she knew was in there for her. No other reason, because he didn’t drink it.

  “We need to ask some follow-up questions.”

  “To me?”

  “Anyone in the house who is here,” the shorter one added, only to clamp his mouth shut when the other cut his gaze at him.

  “Here I am. Ask me what you will. I can’t tell you much of anything, though. I don’t know her that well and haven’t been here that long to know anything about the situation.”

  “Let’s start with who you are.”

  “Tara.”

  The leering one scanned her again and her skin crawled with the bugs his look left behind.

  “You have to have more than that for a name.”

  “Oh, I do, but I’m not giving it to either of you.”

  Both drew back as if she’d reached up and smacked their faces. Bushy eyebrows converged on each of the men. Stretching for a glass, she then stood at the island, poured her drink and drank half, all without offering them anything. Never once did her gaze waver from them as she waited.

  “Why not?”

  “Why should I?”

  “We’re police.”

  She dismissed the shorter one and focused on the taller of the two. He came across as the boss. Tara blinked and finished the rest of her juice in silence, never looking away from him.

  “How do I know this?”

  “Because we told you.”

  While it had been the second man who spoke, she still didn’t look away from the first one. �
��I’ve seen no credentials, no badges, no anything to let me know you are who you say you are and I find that incredibly unprofessional for members of law enforcement. Not doing so would make anything, any information I provided you with, unable to be upheld in a court of law.”

  There came a look of concern on his face. “Not true.”

  “Wow, now we add in lying and coercion. If you keep down this road, I could have you brought up on charges.”

  “Who are you again?” The shorter one posed the question.

  This time she met and held his gaze for a brief time before slipping it back to the other one. “Assistant District Attorney Baroness Tara Coleman.”

  “You’re an attorney.”

  “I am, and a damn good one.”

  “Can you practice over here?”

  “No, but I have friends who will co-chair with her.” Drew’s deep voice was warmth spreading through her like a heated cognac on a cold night. “Ones who work for the ICC.”

  She whipped her head around to look at him and found his possessive gaze burning into her, not even glancing at the men there.

  “I don’t appreciate the police coming here and lying to my wife. I think you need to leave and, if you have any questions for us, go through my attorney.”

  Andrew seethed. How fucking dare they come into his house like that and not only lie to Tara but try to scare her into giving up any information she may have? What about, they hadn’t disclosed yet, so he didn’t know. Not that it mattered. They’d dared and their superior would hear of this.

  Andrew wasn’t a member of the peerage, yet barons did have a bit more sway than the average citizen. And he planned on using every inch of his leverage to make them suffer. If it was a demotion or loss of job, he didn’t give a damn—they’d bothered his wife.

  Slipping his gaze from hers, he speared the two men and glared until Mrs. Hilly appeared to lead them from the kitchen and out of the house. Then he focused on the woman standing in nothing more than a robe in his kitchen. Correction, their kitchen.

  Perhaps she did have more on than that, but it didn’t matter. His mind was focused on the smooth olive skin extending from the bottom of the hem. Needing her close and in his arms to assure himself all was okay with her, he damn near sprinted around the corner of the counter before hauling her up against him and claiming her mouth with his own.