by Shel Stone
It was earlier than he normally ate, but Nook looked stir-crazy from having been stuck in the apartment all day. Maybe they could go for a ride first, catch some of the sights at dusk. This was stuff he never did, but now he wanted to. Had worked all day and now he wanted to spend time with her, doing anything.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
They wouldn’t need an escort when they were driving, but at the restaurant, he’d have some people standing by, hating that Conners was making him do this. Security was always an issue as there were people like her former friends, Sammie and Jax, trying to take advantage, but it wasn’t something that was normally top of his mind. Then again, he’d never really had to worry about someone else’s security before. Funny how things became more serious when there was someone else involved.
They took the elevator down, where he texted the details of their plans to Carlos, and then drove out of the building, checking to see if anyone was following. It seemed clear.
The windows were down and the warm breeze gently tugging on their clothes. Nook turned her head to him. “Although I’ve lived in Miami, I haven’t actually seen much of it. Isn’t that funny.”
“There’s much of it I haven’t seen either,” Palmer admitted. Sightseeing wasn’t normally on his agenda. They were both doing things out of the norm.
Driving south, he took the causeway out to Key Biscayne and drove along the beach, which had by now been deserted by tourists and families. Continuing to a Cuban restaurant he knew, a place with colorful graffiti on the walls, depicting religious figures and scenes from the Cuba the owners wanted to remember. This wasn’t an upmarket place, and Nook relaxed when she saw it.
Down the road slightly, he saw a car Carlos had sent with a security detail. They wouldn’t disrupt unless there was a need to. Nook wouldn’t even know they were there.
The tables and chairs were cheap aluminum, but the food was great. Exploration was something they could do at Nook’s pace. It wasn’t as if there was a shortage of restaurants to explore in Miami.
Nook stood staring up at the menu written on the wall in chalk. “What are you having?”
“I’m having the chicken with the saffron rice.”
“That sounds nice.”
He ordered two and a couple of beers, then paid. A table near the front was available. It was just starting to get dark outside.
“I haven’t actually been out here,” she admitted. “How bad is that?”
“What do you do?”
“Go to clubs, mostly. Bands. The odd concert when I can afford it. You?”
“Well, honestly, I work a lot. When I go out, it’s usually because I have to,” he admitted.
“That’s kind of sad, though.”
“It’s been necessary.” Everything about him had been focused on business and setting up the best business he could. “It does take some effort to keep this organization ticking over, and mostly in the evenings.”
“But not tonight.”
“No, not tonight.” Tonight, he wanted to be right here. “I have better things to do,” he said with a smile.
“Yeah?” she said. He could have sworn that was a blush on her cheeks. Nook, who worked in a strip bar, blushed when he mentioned he wanted to spend time with her. In some ways, Nook was very PG. In other ways, she was a tough girl who didn’t let anyone in on her business. As of yet, he hadn’t managed to figure out how these different parts of her fit together, but he was curious to know.
The food came and the scent of it filled his nose. His mouth watered. Nook leaned over hers and drew in the smell. But instead of tucking in, Palmer waited and watched as Nook tackled it. First trying the rice, then some of the spiced chicken. She moaned her appreciation. Moaning was dangerous—it short-circuited things in his brain, but he enjoyed the distant look on her face as she appreciated the food. “This is gorgeous,” she said. “Aren’t you eating?”
“In a minute.” He was getting his fill of something else. “I like you.”
It had just slipped out and she stopped chewing mid-mouthful. “Well, I like you too,” she replied carefully. “Overlooking the fact that you kidnapped me, handcuffed me and threatened to kill me. Besides all that, what’s not to like?”
She had a habit of making things a joke, a method for avoiding the true meaning—not that his meaning wasn’t clear.
“I like taking you to restaurants. I love fucking you.”
Now she choked slightly. Again there was that dichotomy between her shyness and the world-weary girl who fought when she had to. Perhaps she had been one for so long, she had forgotten how to be the other—because they weren’t dealing with either of their hard exteriors now, and they both knew it.
He cleared his throat. Was he nervous? He felt that edgy vibration of nerves. “I think it would be nice to continue, you know, like this.”
Her eyes didn’t leave his. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
“I kind of am, I guess.” Fuck, this was awkward. This wasn’t something he’d ever done before. Had never felt the desire to. “Is that a problem?”
“You know I’m not someone who’s been hankering for the kind of lifestyle you live, right? God knows I haven’t lived like a saint myself by any stretch of the imagination.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not here because I’ve been craving a drug dealer for a boyfriend.”
“I’ve figured that out already. To you, what I do is not ideal, but besides that, on a more personal level,” his collar felt like it was tightening, “do you want to be here?”
As he watched, she looked down at her plate and shifted some of the food around. Did that mean no? Why was she avoiding his eyes? “Yeah, I guess.” Her cheeks were red now and she wasn’t looking at him.
“You guess?”
Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “Are you fishing for compliments? I like you. Fine. Are you happy now?”
Scooching his chair closer to her, he kissed her, not caring that the security detail was seeing the whole thing. If they hadn’t guessed by now, they’d just gotten a clear indication. This was his girl.
The kiss went on and he had to pull himself away from it or it was going to get indecent. Nook bit her lip. “Don’t do that,” his gaze firmly on her lips.
“Why not?”
“That’s my job.”
Chapter 31
BUTTERFLIES WERE overwhelming Nook’s stomach. Her cheeks were blushing furiously.
“So does this mean the punishing thing is all over?”
“Hell no. I still have issues to work through,” he replied and took a sip from his beer bottle. Putting it away, he leaned over and kissed her again. It took her out of herself every time he did, and she had to settle back into reality again the moment the kisses ended. Mellow warmth filled her whole body.
She’d just been honest and had admitted this wasn’t ideal, but compared to how she felt, how could what he did matter? Because she saw the kid he’d been, the person he was beyond the wrappings of his success. They were the same in so many ways—different in others. Equally, he wasn’t into her because she made the ideal arm candy for his image.
Speaking of doing what you had to to get by, what was she going to do? It wasn’t as if she had to make rent now. He wanted to do what they were doing now, her staying at his place, him returning home, and at the end of his working day it was going to be just the two of them.
Being a kept woman wasn’t something that sat right with her, but it wasn’t as if she wanted to serve drinks to a bunch of horny creeps and old lonely dudes. It had always been something she’d done to pay her bills. Although what she’d actually wanted to do had never been a question she’d been able to seriously consider. It had just never been an option.
Starting a vintage clothing store had been a far-fetched dream she’d considered a time or two, but had never thought about it seriously. Was it something she really wanted to do in reality? Per
haps she now had the leeway to actually think about it. Maybe she could even get her GED.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I guess I am trying to think about the future. Trying to.” Again, not something she’d even had the luxury to do.
“And what are you thinking?”
“Honestly, about getting my GED.”
“Okay. Then do it. Do you need a tutor or something?”
“No. I just need to do it. I mean there are books and stuff you get. Did you get your high school diploma?”
“Yeah. I’d done enough by the time I got kicked out, so they mailed it to me. Don’t think I kept it.”
They walked toward the car. It was dark out now, and streetlights cast yellow orbs along the street. Palmer clicked the car open.
“If you want to study, do whatever you want. Be a doctor. I don’t care.”
“Doctor,” she said as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Her a doctor.
“Seriously, you want to study, do it. You’ll have to finish your GED, but getting you into college here shouldn’t be impossible.”
Using his money still went against the grain. She’d never depended on anyone. It had been part of her mantra. Then again, if she had a real education, she’d be independent in a way she could otherwise never achieve. These things were giving her a headache, so she decided to park this all for some other day.
Looking over, she watched as Palmer drove. How many times had she sat like this watching him, her feelings about him shifting so dramatically from when she’d first gotten in his car—but always that deep curiosity about him, about what went on in his head. He liked her. A rush of butterflies twisted her stomach again. He liked her and she liked him. Something about it was very scary, because this meant she would stay here with him. It meant they would have to tackle coupledom—something neither of them had any experience with, or any guarantees one of them wouldn’t totally fuck it up.
All she knew was that she couldn’t wait to get back home and take his clothes off. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? But it wasn’t just lust. This would all be so much simpler if it was, but they hadn’t just been discussing their lust for each other. They’d been talking about having deeper feelings. And hers left her feeling out of breath and not fully in control—but she wouldn’t stop it for the world.
Was this what falling in love felt like? A sweetness and a jarring feeling that it was running away with her?
There was darkness around them as they drove back across the causeway toward the high rises and lights of downtown. Before long, they were pulling back into his building and Nook let go of a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Throughout their time away, she’d been worried. For the reason he had security. Someone was out to harm him, and just knowing that left this low-grade tension inside her. Now they were safe—except the balcony, apparently.
They walked in silence back to the elevator and took it up to his floor.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, good.”
It pinged open and they walked out into the calm foyer and then into the apartment, which was totally dark.
Instead of turning the lights on, Palmer reached for her and drew her into his body. A new sense of relief washed through her. This was where she wanted to be.
His lips sought hers, the length of his body flush against hers, until he sat her down on the small entrance hall table. Her hands snuck under his shirt to the skin she craved.
“Every minute today, I’ve been waiting for this,” he said quietly in her ear. His voice reverberated down her spine, filling her with heat. How could his voice do that to her?
A vase fell somewhere and smashed, but neither of them cared. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, drawing him closer. In fact, this table was very helpfully just the right height. “Let’s never get rid of this table,” she said, but he wasn’t listening, and any thoughts she had on the subject fleeted as his hands tugged her underwear down underneath her skirt.
Gone, his belt and underwear took a mere second and then he pushed into her in one smooth motion. It hurt slightly, but in a way she craved. The sensation was unbelievable, him solid and firm inside her. Every part of her tensed, needing more. She couldn’t breathe, the lack of air a vice around her chest, but she didn’t care about air—she needed him and the hard thrusts pounding into her.
Her teeth grazed his chin and then sought his lips, a kiss which ended with his teeth claiming her lower lip. Deep, uncontrolled groans accompanying each thrust. This wasn’t pretty, and it wasn’t neat, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. This was pure desire in its basest form.
“I love you,” she said. It just came out without her intending to say it. Did she love him or was it just something she said in the heat of the moment? There wasn’t time to think about it, because her orgasm was taking over everything. A rush so strong she couldn’t hold on. Powerful contractions carried her away in exquisiteness.
It seemed to last an age before they finally tapered off. Palmer’s arms were still firmly around her, his body shuddering through the final stages of his release.
Placing her head in the crook of his neck, she breathed in the scent of him. She loved that scent, wanted to bathe in it. Turning her head, she kissed him, her lips swollen and raw, but she didn’t care.
“We broke a vase,” she said, not quite releasing him.
“Fuck the vase. It’s a stupid place to put a vase.”
“I’m sure the interior designer didn’t expect this exact use for this table.”
Picking her up, he carried her farther into the apartment and straight into the bedroom. This was only the beginning of the evening, it seemed. He dropped her down on the bed and then stepped back. Nook shifted up so she could watch him as he undressed, taking his time. Tension was already vibrating inside her and flared yet again as she watched his body move in the mellow lights of the city casting into the room through the large floor to ceiling windows.
Pulling her shirt over her head, she shimmied out of her skirt too. They were both naked as he pressed down on the mattress with his knee. No barriers now, just the two of them in their bare skins. She reached her arms to him as he came to her. In the whole minute he’d been gone from her, she’d missed him like crazy.
Chapter 32
PALMER MISSED USING his balcony first thing in the morning, so the fact that he couldn’t pissed him off. Anger wasn’t useful in these situations.
Dressed, he stood by the kitchen counter and drank coffee. The apartment was silent. Nook still sleeping, and he hadn’t wanted to wake her as he’d risen.
This time of the morning was when he liked to think and right now, what to do about Conners occupied his mind. His patience was running out. Carlos wanted to rush in and deal with it, offended at the insult Conners was perpetuating by his actions. Palmer felt stuck between the need to show strength and the caution of showing consideration to Conners’ uncle—a powerful ally.
Beside him, his phone pinged and he looked over at it, seeing a message coming through.
If you’re up, let’s talk, was all it said. The message was from Carlos and he didn’t urge talking unless something had happened.
Exhaling, Palmer cursed. Something had happened during the night and today there would be shit to deal with.
Grabbing the phone, he dialed Carlos’ number.
“We’ll meet,” was all Carlos said when he answered, then hung up. This meant Carlos believed the phone might be compromised. It wasn’t a problem they had to deal with so much—still they were cautious with what they said, but this was a new level of caution.
Putting his coffee cup down, Palmer left the apartment. The pre-organized meeting point was on the roof of the building and Palmer took the elevator up to the top floor. The roof access door was open and Palmer stepped out. The wind buffeted him with its early morning coolness, and he saw most of Miami stretched out in all directions and the lengths of white sand be
aches along distant islands, and early morning joggers and dog walkers down on the street, looking like ants.
Carlos stood by the edge, looking out.
“Hey,” Palmer said and walked up to him.
“We have an issue,” Carlos said, half turning back to him. “Conners and his crew shot up one of the clubs last night.”
“Fuck,” Palmer replied. The kid was reaching a new level of stupid.
“Got a call from our contact in the Chief’s office,” Carlos continued. The Chief was the Chief of Police, a man who knew full well what they did in this city, but someone they never dealt with directly. Deniability had to be maintained—so it was with all politicians, and the Chief of Police was no different. “They’re not happy.”
“I bet. So I take it this means the Feds are on their way,” Palmer said with a groan.
“And the DEA. You shoot up a nightclub full of tourists, that tends to happen. They’re flying in right this moment. Everyone in their way is going to ground.”
“Fuck,” Palmer swore again. It wasn’t the end of the world. They had clean processes. It still wasn’t good. Nothing ruffled feathers like the Feds starting to gallivant around town. It upset the cops, the politicians and the business owners. “Obviously they’re going to be looking at Conners. But they’ll be looking at us too. I want us to go quiet on activity. Deliver as normal, but only known customers.”
Abstraction was the key to good processes. It was a software term, but it meant there were layers in between that functioned independently of each other. No relationships between different layers. It protected them all, limiting any contagion cropping up anywhere along the system.
“Was Conners at the nightclub?” Palmer asked.
“I don’t have intel on that.”
“Alright, let’s plant some crumbs leading back to Conners,” Palmer said. If the Feds were going to look, the trail should lead them to Conners. It would only work to an extent. The Feds wouldn’t be fooled. They knew who Palmer was, but they couldn’t reach him.