He did find out why he was assigned the Johnson case. Thomas Ratcliff and Raheem Jones had become more than friends while in prison. After Raheem took his own life, Thomas was determined to let someone know that his lover wasn’t the only one guilty of the crime he had committed. It was Ratcliff’s way of somewhat clearing Raheem’s name and validating their harmonious feelings for one another. Thomas felt he owed the Cole family and made a deal to provide the information that Raheem had given him only if Marcus was given the assignment. The dying man hoped this would help Marcus’s career.
He stood from his desk, swiping his hands over his low cut afro as he walked over to the coffee pot. His mind drifted to his life and the sacrifices he had made to get where he was now at the tender age of twenty five. He had no one…no wife…no girlfriend. All of his spare time was spent at his parent’s house. The stress of this new case wasn’t helping to remedy any of that.
“Who hates you Mindy Johnson?” he said to himself.
From what he gathered she had no enemies. She had sang and danced on stage without disdain or spite toward others. She even did back-up for other singers, which ruled out any form of jealousy. An obsessed fan or fellow student was possible but unlikely after all this time. He was running into dead ends and it was frustrating.
Back at his desk, he started sifting through the information he had gathered. He had numerous pictures of her with David, the band and various family members. Suddenly, something in one of the pictures caught his eye. Staring at it made him think that perhaps he had been working this case via the wrong angle.
***
Same Moment in England…
The week following their arrival in England had been stressful for both Tyler and Evy. Unlike Italy, which was a bit more laid back, England was bustling night and day. The sounds were bolder and the crowds larger. This involuntarily amplified their sense of awareness, causing a slight tension within their living quarters.
Adding to the stress was Nita who had conference called in through Tyler’s office to give Evy an update on Healing Inc. last Tuesday. They were considering purchasing more condos in Oklahoma City and she wanted to inform Evy that a new one had just been placed on the market. She could tell Nita was stressed, even with Jose there to help her, and felt guilty about it.
When Nita finally told her about her recent engagement to Tony and the stress of planning the wedding, Evy could only sympathize with her friend. Tyler and his new partner Anthony Sparrow, which Evy was thrilled to hear about, made plans to have the wedding at their hotel in Las Vegas. They would then honeymoon in their branch on the main island of Hawaii.
Nita was more than happy with this arrangement, but it still required a lot of planning since friends and family would have to be flown in and invitations sent out. The whole thing was to take place during the week of Christmas. Apparently, Tyler and Evy were going to meet them in Las Vegas for the wedding. Evy would be the maid of honor and Tony’s brother, Eugene, the best man.
It was Nita’s final request that really put Evy on edge. “I want you to sing the first bride and groom dance song at my wedding. Please?” Nita implored. “I don’t care what the song is as long as you are the one singing it, mama.” She had reluctantly agreed, unable to say no to her best friend on such an important occasion.
Tyler’s stress was somewhat of a different animal. The Manager of his hotel in Mexico was giving him a hard time, demanding a raise when he was doing anything but a good job. The hotel in England required more maintenance than he had expected prolonging their stay when they needed desperately to be in Mexico. It was increasing his blood pressure dramatically.
Cecile’s proclamation about her mother was wearing heavily on his heart as well. He felt responsible for subjecting his pride and joy to the callous bitch known as his ex-wife. In his opinion, her conduct toward him during their brief marriage should have been an indication of what she was capable of. Despite all this, he still held hope that he could bring the two women together, even though Cecile was now actually communicating with Evy more than either Abby or him.
Concerns for Evy’s safety were also ever present in his mind. Every time she left his sight a knot grew in his stomach. He hadn’t completely ruled out chaining her to him physically as an option but reasoned it would undoubtedly raise her suspicions. He very much wanted to avoid her bad side now that he had introduced her to fencing, the one good thing they had found the time to do while in England. She took to it like a pro, even beating him in two out of seven of their matches.
All this stress was tiresome to no end. He continued his workouts becoming more and more aggressive toward his punching bag, being careful not to take his frustration out on Evy in any way.
Evy walked into the bedroom/office Tyler occupied in their England Suite. She observed him as he sat with his face in the palms of his hands, listening to the demands of his manager in Mexico. The tension in his body was tangible. It exuded throughout the room. His jaw was clenched tight and his back muscles taut. Her heart went out to him.
She wanted to share his burden, to make him feel better somehow but lately she sensed a barrier growing between them. Something was on his mind, other than the stress associated with work and his daughter. She believed she had an idea of what it was and decided it was time to vanquish this problem once and for all. She waited patiently for him to terminate the call before she approached him.
“Hey you,” she said as she moved to stand behind him. She began running her fingers through his thick hair and kneading the muscles of his neck and shoulders in an attempt to alleviate some of his stress.
“Hi.” He rested his head against the back of the chair to look up at her. A smile spread across his lips as he took in the beautiful face and smile that affected him so much. She moved around him to sit on his lap.
“Have you been taking your breaks like I showed you?” she asked, still playing with his hair.
“Only when I remember to,” he answered idly. His mind was on his throbbing manhood which was already reacting to her presence. He made an effort to control himself, afraid that if he gave in completely he would hurt her or bring back painful memories for her. If he could help it, she would never feel pain again.
Sensing his need, she pressed her lips gently to his. He responded immediately by deepening the kiss. He started making love to her mouth with his tongue, eliciting a deep moan from her which served to enhance his excitement. Although he had stopped her attempts in the past, she felt the need to please him further. Springing from his lap, she went to her knees in front of him trying desperately to undo his belt buckle.
“Evy don’t!” he warned, grabbing her wrists with his large hands to stop her. She quickly raised her head to meet his gaze.
“Why not?” she inquired, unable to ignore his actions this time. They stared at each other for a long moment. Tyler began to look nervous.
“You’re my wife. I don’t want you to feel you have to do such things.”
“And as your wife I should be allowed to do such things if I choose to.”
Her voice was calm and soothing in complete contrast to the turmoil that was going on in her husband’s head. How was he to handle her performing the same act on him that his monster had so long ago? He wasn’t so sure he could enlighten her without becoming emotionally unstable. He acknowledged that this was the origin of a lot of his anger and didn’t want to risk snapping and possibly hurting her.
“Evy,” he started swallowing hard, “the men in my family hold a certain respect toward their wives. Certain things shouldn’t be done to dishonor her,” he offered even though it wasn’t completely true.
“I’m sure those very men take the time to please their wives in bed, yet dishonor her by fulfilling their own pleasures with someone else. Or they’re unwilling to communicate their needs to their inexperienced new wives, granting them the excuse needed to peruse others to complete what’s missing. Sorry Tyler. Been there, done that. I have no desire to go thro
ugh it again.”
Still holding her wrists, he could only stare down at the woman he had married with new eyes. Somehow it had slipped his mind just how perceptive she was. He had no intention of ever cheating on her but she was correct in her statement about some of the other men in his family. He was running out of excuses.
“Hey,” she called, gently twisting her wrists out of his hands and bringing them to rest on his thighs. “Bringing you pleasure pleases me as well. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She began slowly moving her hands toward his belt. “I want you…all of you. I want to feel all of you, to taste all of you and to love all of you, mind, body and soul. You belong to me, Tyler Moriatti, and I’m not so big on sharing. When we’re together intimately it’s you and me, no one else from now on. I refuse to keep sharing you with him or anyone else for that matter.”
Moved by her words, he brought his mouth down hard on top of hers. The kiss was desperate, possessive, and heated. She kissed him back, matching his territorial assault all the while working to free his now fully erect phallus. She tore her mouth away from his, pushing his upper body back in the chair to make room for her frantic need. She took his piping hot head into her mouth quickly, denying Tyler any chance to back out or stop her.
Anxiety swept over him, making him jerk his head up from where it relaxed on the back of the chair. However, before he could move to stop her their reflection in the mirror across the room caught his attention. He watched her, captivated by the way her head bobbed up and down during her ministrations. The sight of her sexy pursed lips on his manhood started to override his anxiety, bringing absolute pleasure to his senses. The vision relaxed him enough to start reaping the benefits of the deed. His head began rolling side to side as he lay back against the chair giving in to the feeling. Deep guttural groans began to escape his open mouth. He couldn’t help but put one hand in her wonderful hair, the texture of it enhancing his pleasure further, encouraging her not to stop.
“Damn! That feels good! Ahh shit!” he bit out as she continued attacking his long rod with her tongue, lips and mouth varying the speed of her movements in order to make this moment last as long as she could. She took him deep, pulling him back out with as much suction as she could muster. She knew that this was her one and only shot at this and she wanted to make sure he would beg her to do it again. He gasped and yelled out her name when she moved her free hand to his scrotum and gently started to massage it. She knew he was about to cum. In one swift motion, he reached down pulling her head way from his and lifted her from the floor.
“I wanna be inside you!” he declared before shoving her skirt up out of the way and gruffly ripping her underwear off. He had her up on the edge of his desk, thrusting inside her so fast Evy hardly had time to react.
This time he couldn’t hold back. He went at her full force, pumping hard in and out of her cave like a crazed lunatic. He paused momentarily, ravishing her lips while shoving the contents of his desk to the floor. She fell back on the now empty surface, lifting her legs to his waist to grant him full access to her core.
“Oh, fuck! Oh Evy, this feels sooo fucking good!” he grunted as he continued to pound into her deeply, completely out of control. He held onto her shoulders to keep her head from slamming against the wall.
Evy gripped his forearms, totally lost in her own bliss, as her body twisted and arched from his powerful thrusts. She felt her ecstasy building with each massage of her walls and button. The memory of her brutal attack on a desk so long ago was nonexistent. All she saw and felt was the love of her life and she expressed as much by shouting his name out over and over again in pleasure as each powerful orgasm hit her, rattling her senses.
“Oh yeah, baby! I love you Evy! Oh God I love you…you’re so fucking hot!”
Forty-five minutes and a lot of cursing later they exploded together, both of them shouting each other’s name. He came so hard he thought he would break her with the last few thrust of his hips. She was afraid she had bruised his arms from holding on so tightly.
He collected her from the desk and collapsed in his chair with his arms wound tightly around her and her legs straddling him. Their bodies trembled from the intensity of their endeavor. They continued to hold onto each other, exchanging sweet kisses and caresses. This had been their first venture out of the bed. Never in either of their lives had they felt as free as they did at that moment.
“Thank you, Mrs. Moriatti. I do believe that was the hottest sex I’ve ever had. Please pardon the cursing.” Their foreheads were touching. They gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, both of them smiling languidly.
“I can live with the cursing if you promise me one thing,” she simpered.
“What’s that?” he asked, knowing full well he would do anything for her at that moment.
“I want you to set the alarm on your watch for one pm. From now on I want you to remember this moment, how we feel right now, every day at one o clock. Will you do that for me?” She figured the harmony that they shared at that instant would help calm him at least for a little while each day.
“Done! God I love you woman!” His hand went behind her head, pulling her in for another kiss. Evy’s heart began to flutter when she felt him harden against her sex yet again. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation as a cunning look came into his eyes. “I suppose we both need to shower now,” he suggested, his smile bordering on mischievous.
“I suppose we do.”
Thirty Minutes Earlier…
The phone was ringing in Angel Garcia’s office. He was still fuming from the earlier conference call with his boss, Tyler Moriatti, and he really wasn’t in the mood to answer it. The recognition of his boss’s number on the caller ID, however, sweetened his sour demeanor.
“Aye! So, the cheap bastado gringo is finally giving in!”
Only having worked for Tyler two years, he had never met him face to face. Angel usually found some way out of these meetings, choosing only to attend social gatherings with the other hotel managers. As far as he was concerned, Tyler wasn’t worth his time. He figured Tyler was probably some silver spoon push over gringo who would rather cave to his whims than deal with confrontation.
He practically squealed with delight knowing he had succeeded in pressuring the snotty American into giving him something he knew he full well didn’t deserve. What the heck. He had a wife, five kids and two mistresses to support, not to mention the money he owed that smuggler for getting his nephew into the states.
He quickly prepared his thank you speech, willing to feign gratitude just to make the guy feel better. After all, he had laid into him earlier with the sole purpose of ruining the other man’s day.
“Buenos dìas Mr. Garcia speaking.”
“…oh fuck you feel so good! Damn...” filtered to his delicate ears from the other end of the phone. Angel stood listening to the passion filled sounds and expletives in shock for a moment then slowly lowered the phone back to its cradle, acknowledging that his plan to ruin his boss’s day had been foiled.
Chapter 13
The weather in New York was chilly the Saturday before Christmas. Harry drove his souped-up Benz down the highway as fast as New York traffic would allow. He honestly didn’t care what titty bar he ended up at as long as he could clear his mind of his most recent major failure. He was purposely avoiding contact with his boss, knowing she’d have his head for losing the trace on Mindy Johnson, a.k.a. Rachel Evelyn Stoneland, a.k.a. Evelyn Stone.
“Social security is going to have a time figuring that shit out when her ass decides to collect,” he laughed to himself.
The information coming from the tap on Detective Marcus Cole had led him on a wild goose chase to Portland, Maine where he was currently returning from empty handed. The last viable information was that she had bought a ticket to Italy. From there she seemed to vanish.
His cell phone sounded, alerting him of his boss’s incoming call. He ignored it, hoping she would leave him alone at least for the rest of the nig
ht. A few minutes later the voice mail indicator sounded. He decided he’d better listen knowing how unstable she could get.
“Harry,” she began, “I know damn well you’re back in New York by now and that you have your phone on you son-of-a-bitch! You’d better have something for me soon or else! Enjoy your hooker or your hand, whichever you end up doing tonight!”
“‘You better have something for me or else!’” he mimicked, knowing full well he would never be allowed to do such a thing to her face. She was right about the release thing. He needed to have sex before he exploded. Hopefully he could convince one of the dancers to go home with him.
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