Sons of Justice 10 Deliver Us from Evil

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Sons of Justice 10 Deliver Us from Evil Page 9

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer


  “Okay, I want to help, but I will accept your wish to not inform Tat and his team of anything or ask for their assistance, even though I know they can be trusted. We’ll keep this between us, and my team and I will assist. We’ll get these men, so Nathan, all of you, and his sister can be free from the danger,” Flame said.

  “Thank you, Flame. We could use your connections, because right now, we’re back to square one because Portros is dead,” Bronco said to him.

  “We’ll find the other men, and we’ll start with locating Locust. Let me make some calls. Be ready,” Flame said with a heavy heart, but a desire to help his brothers-in-arms take these men out and finally give Nathan and his sister freedom to live.

  * * * *

  It was a Sunday afternoon, and Talia was walking down the street, taking the long way to the property that bordered her town house, the park, and sports fields. She saw a few guys playing basketball. One waved to her, and then the others watched her and smiled like they were all ready to flirt, when the sound of a diesel engine roared and then a horn honked. She recognized the black truck and her heart raced. They were back. Oh my God and they came here? Why?

  A window rolled down, and she saw Basile first and then Spadaro in the passenger seat. “Hey, what’s going on?” Basile asked her.

  “Not much, just taking a walk, heading back to my town house for lunch and then maybe the park again. When did you get back?” she asked.

  “This morning. Early,” he said, looking her over. She knew she looked nice, casual in the loose-fitting lounge pants that hugged her hips low, a tank top with a light hooded sheer jacket in blue, and tennis shoes.

  “Where are you heading?” she asked, as Basile just stared at her. He glanced at Spadaro.

  “We were just driving and wanted to head this way to see how the new football field came out, but we can’t see it from here.”

  “Oh, you can see it on the back end of my town house—along the pathway there’s a cut through.”

  “Really? Do you mind?”

  She swallowed hard. She could do this. She could be casual and be friends with them, and not think about how she found solace, safety, fantasizing about their presence.

  “Sure. Why don’t you park in that visitor’s parking spot back there? Otherwise someone might complain.”

  “Okay. We’ll be right back.” He winked before he shifted the truck into reverse and then backed up all the way through the parking lot.

  Why did that arouse her? He was simply backing up a huge truck. Anyone could do that. Maybe it was the way his muscles looked in the tight deep green shirt he wore, or that look? Maybe it was how Spadaro remained silent?

  She waited on the sidewalk, slid her palms along her pants, and felt heated. The sleeveless top she wore underneath her light hoodie accentuated her breasts and hugged her body tight. It also was a crop top that revealed her belly and the belly ring she wore, and without the hoodie, it would show off her intricate tattoo. She worried about what could happen here, and how she should really try to keep them away, but then they were walking toward her. Both men—sexy, intimidating, handsome, yet rugged and scary at the same time—closed the distance between them. Spadaro with his tight black jeans, cowboy boots in black and his deep blue button-down shirt looked lethal. Basile looked just as good, wearing blue jeans, that deep green T-shirt that showed off what appeared to be pretty intense tattoos from wrist to under the sleeve of his T-shirt. The man was ultimately covered on one side with tattoos.

  It was so cliché to even think of herself with men like these. She was classy, sophisticated, pretty conservative in her attire, her attitude, and aside from having her own pretty intricate and very expensive tattoo, which was out of necessity, not to look badass lethal. She gulped as both men ate her up with their eyes, and she put her hand to her chest as they stepped right in front of her. She damned the tennis sneakers. Basile and Spadaro were over six feet four. She felt like a shrimp.

  “You okay?” Basile asked, pressing his hand to her waist and then bending to kiss her cheek hello.

  She removed her hand from her chest, placed it on his forearm, and gave his arm a squeeze. Holy shit, she felt on fire with desire.

  “Oh yeah, you’re both just so big,” she said to them.

  Basile winked and smiled, checking her out, and then Spadaro gave her a nod. Not a kiss hello, not a smile, not anything that indicated the man was attracted to her. Maybe that was a good thing. He seemed most lethal and ready to kill someone.

  “Not anything to fear with that. These arms can protect you. From anything or anyone,” Basile said and held her gaze.

  “Hmm, is that another one of your lines, Basile?” she asked, trying to gain some control as she motioned with her hand for them to follow her. Then he placed his hand on her hip and walked along with her.

  “No line, baby, just the truth. We missed you,” he said to her. She kept walking but glanced up at him and Spadaro, who was looking around as if someone might come out and attack. Was he always on guard like that? Always paranoid? She wondered.

  “We?” she asked, and they got to the back of the entrance to her town house as well as the path leading to the football field.

  “Yes, we.”

  “Well, this is it. You can walk down that way and get a good look at the field,” she said to them.

  Basile slid his arm around her waist, then looked up toward the town house and entrance behind her.

  “Is your place that one, with the great views of the fields and the park?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  He licked his lower lip.

  “Invite us up? Maybe we can see it from up there even better,” he suggested, and she knew it was obvious they wanted her to invite them up, to be alone, to maybe have more privacy. Her mind drifted to when they were gone and how she fantasized about each man.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want company for lunch,” Spadaro chimed in, surprising her, and also making her feel rude that she didn’t invite them.

  Basile reached up and stroked her cheek.

  “No, not Talia, she isn’t rude at all. She’s sweet and a bit shy,” he said, and she felt her cheeks warm.

  “I figured you were meeting the others.”

  “They’re one call away,” he said to her.

  “I don’t have that much stuff inside. You two alone look like you have pretty big appetites,” she said without thinking.

  “Indeed we do,” Basile said and then squeezed her to him. “Can we get through this way?” he asked and began walking with her.

  “Yes,” she said, and they got to the door, and she punched in the number, despite the shaky uneasy feeling she had. What did she want to happen? She didn’t even know.

  They got inside, and she looked to make sure the door closed up. Then they walked down the hallway. It was private and a bit dark even in the daytime. She went down another hallway, and there was a door.

  “This is such a different setup. I thought for sure an entryway to your place would have been right there by the entrance,” Basile said to her.

  “No, it’s a bit deceiving. My town house is a center unit but actually has empty space on both sides because of the odd-shaped staircases leading between each two-floor town house. Strange, I know, but a bit more soundproof from neighbors.”

  She punched in another code and then opened the door, and there was a door there and another one farther down. “See, this one is for the stairs between this side of my unit and the right. Then the next doorway down has an entrance to that side. Weird, right?” she asked and then punched the number into her main door.

  “No key?” Basile asked.

  “I have both in case there’s a power outage or the locking system malfunctions. Welcome to my home,” she said and opened the door.

  * * * *

  Spadaro didn’t even know how they wound up here today. Basile said he missed seeing Talia, and it was insane to feel that way, especially after this last mission. He should be
feeling more at ease, finally getting closure after killing Portros, but he wasn’t at ease, especially not since Basile pulled into the parking lot of Talia’s town house development because he told him where she lived, and they decided to drive by there and see the new football field, as well. An excuse, really. They were hoping to see her.

  Spadaro took in his surroundings. Her home was incredible. It was welcoming and decorated like some gorgeous European magazine, high-end, fashionable, and with exquisite taste. It made him feel a bit below her, but then she turned and smiled as Basile followed her up the four steps and into the living room and kitchen. It was stunning with a lot of stainless steel and a gourmet kitchen with a hanging pot rack and all the amenities a chef would want. He looked to the right to a fireplace, living room, then a study, and what appeared to be a bedroom, but then back behind them was a large open loft with a railing and gorgeous windows with a view.

  “Is that a loft?” he asked her, and she smiled.

  “It’s a master suite with a study, my office actually, and another set of windows that overlook the woods out front, then face out here to the gardens, park, and fields.”

  “This is incredible. I like it a lot,” Basile said, looking out the windows to the balcony.

  “Can I?” Spadaro asked if he could look up at the loft.

  “Oh, sure,” she said, and he walked first, and she followed him. He glanced at Basile, who was still looking out at the fields. When Spadaro got to the top and took in the sight of a gorgeous king-size bed done up in Tuscan and earth-toned colors with large welcoming pillows, a gas fireplace with a seventy-inch flat-screen TV above it, and then another room with an office, he was totally impressed.

  “Damn, this is incredible in here,” he said to her.

  “Oh, thank you. It’s kind of big, but I’ve gotten used to being here alone,” she said and then went toward the railing.

  He could smell her perfume, and the scent of her room was exactly how her clothes smelled. Enticing. He stepped closer to her and stood right behind her. They looked from the railing.

  “Can you see the fields from here?” she asked, as she tilted her head sideways up toward him. He couldn’t stop himself. Couldn’t resist what he was feeling.

  He slid his palm around her waist. She was petite compared to him, feminine and sensual, and a protective sensation began to simmer inside of him.

  “Sort of,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the view outside, but instead the view right here.

  Her long blond hair, her bright blue eyes, the way her lips parted, and her body shook gently, out of what he hoped was arousal and not fear. He pressed closer and she gasped.

  “Spadaro.”

  “You smell so good, and your room, it smells just like you and feels so welcoming,” he said and then pressed his lips to her neck.

  She tightened, and he pulled her snugger against him, her back to his front, and he suckled a little harder and then moved his lips along her shoulder. She tilted back in acceptance of his kisses and his touch. Her hoodie fell, and more skin came into view. More of her abundant breasts as he eased his other palm over her belly, then up to her breast. The second he cupped the one large mound she gasped and turned, and he kissed her, he ravished her mouth, and holy fucking shit, she kissed him back.

  The steady sounds of quick footsteps indicated that Basile was joining them, and Spadaro stepped back with her in his arms and still kissing her until his legs hit the bed and he sat. She pulled from his lips, held onto his shoulders, and he wrapped his arms around her so easily, so snugly he felt like he could crush her.

  She stared at him.

  “Goddamn, you’re a sight, baby. You don’t know how much we missed you. How we couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Basile said and pressed up against her back, ran his fingers through her hair, then cupped her head, and brought his mouth to hers.

  She leaned back, and Spadaro took in the sight of her body, and as the hoodie fell lower, he saw that tattoo. Not just any tattoo, but a work of art. A masterpiece that had to have cost thousands of dollars, and taken many, many hours in a tattoo parlor. He wasn’t expecting that. Not on Talia, a woman who seemed high class and well, prim and proper. He eased his thumbs along her skin. The flower design was exquisite. He leaned closer and pressed his mouth to her neck, to her chest, and then poked his tongue into her top.

  She pulled from Basile’s mouth.

  “Oh God, Basile, Spadaro, what are we doing?” she asked in a panic.

  “We’re exploring these feelings. Just kissing, and touching,” Basile said and pressed her hoodie the rest of the way off of her.

  “Holy shit, what is this?” Basile asked.

  “Not just any tattoo. A work of art,” Spadaro said, and she looked at him, lips wet and full, and eyes glossy.

  “Can we see all of it?” Basile asked and lowered to his one knee as he pressed her top up and then began to push her pants down.

  “Basile, I think we should stop.”

  Spadaro gripped her hip. “We won’t take advantage. We go as far as you feel comfortable,” he said.

  “Please, this is gorgeous, and a shock to see it on you. You don’t seem the tattoo type at all,” Basile said to her.

  “Oh really? Why is that?” she asked, as Spadaro took in her tight, ripped abs, that belly ring, the tattoo, and her abundant breasts. He licked his lips and kept that hand on her hip and now smoothed it to her ass to pull her closer.

  “Spadaro,” she said to him.

  “I want to see, too.”

  She exhaled, and then she pulled her top up past her bra on one side and then pushed her lounge pants and the thin thong bikini strap in white down her hip to upper thighs, so they could see the whole thing.

  Basile ran fingers along it and then to her hip. He lowered his mouth to the tattoo and kissed it. Spadaro watched her close her eyes.

  “More?” he whispered, and it was to Basile so he would know she was liking this. Basile continued to suckle and kiss her hip bone and then belly.

  “Kiss me, baby. Fucking kiss me because you want more,” Spadaro said to her.

  She stared at him, with those glossy blue eyes, and then let her hold on her pants go, and she pressed her palm to his cheek and kissed him.

  He kissed her back, plunged his tongue into her mouth, and then eased his other hand up to her breast, cupping it. She moaned into his mouth and then tightened up.

  “Just a little taste, baby. We won’t go far, unless you want us today. Want us to make love to you.”

  She moaned into Spadaro’s mouth and then pulled to the side, grabbed his shoulders, and rocked her hips.

  “So fucking wet. Oh, baby, please let us taste you,” Basile asked.

  “Oh God, this is bad. So bad, but what you do to me. It isn’t fair. It isn’t,” she complained, yet rocked her hips against Basile’s fingers.

  “It’s meant to be,” Basile said, and she grabbed onto Spadaro as Basile pushed her pants down and then was behind her, pressing her against Spadaro, who fell back to the bed.

  “Holy fuck, you’ve got an amazing body, honey. I wish our brothers were here right now,” Basile said and then began to stroke her cunt from behind. She grabbed onto Spadaro’s shoulders.

  “Lift up. Take off that top, and let us see all of you.”

  “I’m not ready for sex with you, Spadaro. This is already…” She lowered her head and rocked her hips and then came. “Oh God,” she moaned.

  “Holy fuck,” Basile said, and then Spadaro heard him slurping and sucking her cream.

  She tilted her chest up, and Spadaro pulled her top up off her head, and he unclipped her bra, letting her large breasts fall from the cups. He cupped them, and she rocked her hips.

  “That’s it. Let him taste your breasts, baby, and then taste your sweet, delicious cream,” Basile told her, and then Spadaro lifted her by her hips until his mouth latched onto a nipple. He sucked and then tugged on it.

  “Spadaro,” she said and
then pushed her hands under his shirt, against his pectoral muscles, and shoved his shirt to his neck. She lowered down and thrust back onto the fingers behind her.

  “Taste him. Bring him pleasure like you’re bringing me right now,” Basile said, and she stopped.

  She stared at Spadaro, and he could see something in her eyes. A fear, a total uncertainty, and then her breathing hitched.

  She was pulling out of their arms and rolled toward the left side of the bed.

  “Talia?” Basile said her name.

  Spadaro slid over toward her and watched as she grabbed the brown bag and began to breathe into it. Tears were flowing, her chest heaved up and down, and when she looked at them, she looked scared.

  He slid to the rug next to her, and she shook her head and was ordering him to leave her alone, but he could see that her getting upset made the panic attack worse.

  He gripped her shoulders, her naked beauty so incredibly appealing, but his focus remained on calming her. He eased his palms up and down her shoulders and held her gaze.

  “Look at me,” he demanded as she tried looking away.

  “No, you look at me now,” he ordered in a tone that had her eyes widening.

  “Basile and I are here to protect you. These arms, these hands protect, they don’t hurt you, not ever. We’re here, baby. We aren’t leaving you,” he said to her, and a tear fell from her eye and she stared at his eyes. “That’s it. Look into my eyes, listen to my voice,” he said, and she nodded, and Basile stroked her hair.

  “Sweet, sweet, Talia, please, baby, you’re safe with us. We promise,” Basile said, and she closed her eyes, pushed the brown bag from her mouth, and eased her head back. Spadaro continued to caress her arms.

  “Are you cold?” he asked her, and she tilted up and shook her head.

 

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