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Her Home Run Desires

Page 112

by Payne, Jenna


  “How much money?” Darlene asked. She wanted to take her mind off of the insane news that there was dead guy in the apartment.

  “It’s in a couple sacks.”

  Darlene gasped. “What do we do?”

  “We gotta get on a boat and go beyond the coast. It’s the only place my boss won’t look.”

  Darlene didn’t know what to do. Everything was happening so fast, and she couldn’t make sense of it.

  *****

  On the way to the coast, Pete got a call from his boss. At first Pete didn’t want to answer it, but Darlene knew what kind of trouble he could be in, and she forced him to.

  While Pete had his boss on the line, Darlene couldn’t help but overhear. It sounded like the guy was congratulating Pete for some reason. It looked like Pete was sweating behind the wheel.

  When they pulled up to the marina, Pete motioned for her to get out of the car. He led her to his boat, a large luxury yacht. She waited for him there while he walked up and down the dock.

  The sun started to set, turning the sky a shade of turquoise mixed with peach. It seemed so beautiful in this dangerous, tense time.

  When Pete returned, he had a confused smile on his face.

  “He says he wants me to be the new boss. He says he’s moving to San Francisco, and that the stunt I pulled, in conjunction with what we did with Tony made him see me as someone who can handle things.

  Darlene remained silent. She didn’t know how to respond to Pete’s “good news”. He seemed pretty proud about the whole thing, and once they were far off shore he popped a bottle of champagne.

  Enough was enough. Darlene wanted out, even if Pete worked for the type of guys that might kill her for leaving. She went for the money, with the plan to throw it into the sea. She didn’t care anymore. She’d had enough of the mafia lifestyle. She couldn’t escape it in Detroit, and she couldn’t escape it across the country. Now here she was in a boat off the coast of the Pacific with one of the biggest upcoming crime bosses in Los Angeles.

  “Wait, Darlene!” said Pete, desperately. “I didn’t want it to be this way. I didn’t expect Vic to promote me. I didn’t know he was moving to San Francisco.”

  “You don’t have to be a crime boss if you don’t want to be, Pete!” Darlene cried, hovering over the money.

  “Don’t throw that money in the ocean, Darlene,” Pete said. “You know that we can use that money. I know I don’t have to be a crime boss but right now I don’t know any other way. Maybe we can use that money to start fresh somewhere else. I don’t know if it’s possible, but for you I’m willing to try to leave this life behind.”

  Darlene knew just as well as he did that it was damn near impossible to get out of the mafia. With as much experience that Pete had working for Vic, Pete would be as good as dead if he tried to pack up and leave town.

  Darlene moved the sack of money from over the ledge and dropped it onto the floor of the boat. She couldn’t help but start to sob. With the stacks of cash spilled out on the boat floor, it was like she was making a definite decision in her life.

  Pete knew to walk over to Darlene, put his arms around her, and kiss her cheek. They had only been intimate once, but Pete had never been so in love with a woman before. Darlene was smart, creative, business savvy, and even liked monster movies. She was the type of woman who could look sexy at dinner, and play naughty in the bedroom. She was probably a great cook. She had her own dreams, passions and ambitions. Never in Pete’s life had he wanted to help another person achieve their own dreams.

  It can only be one thing, he thought. I love her.

  “What do you want me to do?” Pete asked her. The wind whistled as the breeze from the ocean brushed Darlene’s hair into Pete’s face. It smelled like her lilac shampoo.

  “I don’t know, Pete,” she said, burying her head into his shoulders. Her body shivered from the cool sea air, despite Pete’s closeness. Pete took his Armani jacket off to drape it around her bare shoulders.

  “I told you that my father is involved with the Detroit mob,” she said, finally warming up with the silky material against her skin. “When I moved here I decided to put the mob behind me. But now I’m starting to think that it’s forever going to be a part of me. I thought it was something I had to escape. But you’re starting to make me think it’s something I should embrace.”

  “I never knew that you felt that way, Darlene,” Pete stammered. “The last thing I ever imagined was dragging you into this life.”

  “No, Pete, you don’t understand,” she whispered. “You’re not dragging me into anything. I knew what you did. Sure, you may have hidden the truth at first, but you did come clean. I respect that about you. You didn’t want to lie to me once you knew that you loved me.”

  Pete couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So you’re saying that you want to live like this?” he asked. Pulling his head away from her, he stared into her moonlit eyes. The gleam in her eyes was like the stars themselves reflecting back at him. “I’ll give you any kind of life you could imagine, Darlene. We can L.A, we can leave the country.”

  Darlene laughed into Pete’s chest. The comfort of his warmth returned to her. Now the boat no longer seemed like something on which she was jettisoned. Darlene imagined the boat as their own private island. The lights of the city were so far off that she could barely make them out unless she squinted her eyes.

  “That’s some proposition,” Darlene smiled.

  “Darlene, if you want me to, I can run things here for Vic. It’s going to be a big responsibility. I have big shoes to fill. And I think what I’m telling you is that if I’m going to be a strong man, I’m going to need a strong woman around in my life. A woman like you.”

  Darlene blushed, but was also dumbfounded. She wondered, is this some kind of marriage proposal? Until this point, Darlene never considered the idea that Pete wanted something long-term with her. There was no denying the attraction they shared, but in Darlene’s heart she feared to get attached to him.

  “I can be the woman you need,” she said.

  “I know you can.”

  “I can be more than that, too.”

  “I know you can.” His lips lingered inches away from hers. “But I’m not just proposing that you and I become an item.”

  Pete lowered himself down to the ground, and balanced himself on one knee. He looked up at her, and smiled with his eyes wide. Darlene was now entranced in the way the moon shone in his eyes.

  “I know we rushed into things, Darlene,” Pete laughed. “I know some people would call us fools for that. But if we’re going to live this life together, I promise you that I will take care of you and love you until I die. With you by my side I feel like I can run the world. I feel like I can be the best man I can be. I want to cherish you, Darlene. I want to spend every dollar and then some on you. Hell, I’ll move to Detroit and rob every bank in the Great Lakes area with your father, if that’s what you wanted.”

  Darlene’s face grew hot, even in the cool, salty air. All of a sudden she felt the moisture rising behind her eyes, and the tears welled up like raindrops falling down her cheek.

  “Darlene, I know that we just met,” Pete went on, “But I would love nothing more than to take your hand in marriage. Will you marry me, Darlene?”

  Pete’s words echoed in the silence of the night, and forever after in Darlene’s ears. There had been men in her life who had confessed her love to her before, but none of them like this. None them ever officially got down on one knee and proposed to her. Darlene felt like she was stuck in that continuous dream. She was nearly convinced that she was still in Detroit, fast asleep or potentially in a coma, and that this gorgeous man kneeling below, and Los Angeles, and the boat, the money, and the dead guy in her apartment—all of it was a dream. How could it be real?

  But it is real, she thought. This wasn’t exactly the life she imagined, but somehow it seemed like something better. It was the perfect synthesis of her old life and her new life. S
he realized that Pete was still kneeling, and that all of her thinking had left him hanging.

  “Yes, Pete. I’ll marry you. I’ll be the woman in your life. And I want you to be the man in my life.”

  Pete stood up and looked toward his new fiancé’s beautiful, moonlit face. It took no time for their lips to find each other’s, and as Darlene opened her mouth to take in Pete’s tongue, the salt of her tears was shared between both of them. In the friction of their kiss, Darlene was blindsided by a surge of lust that came over her. Pete was now going to be her man for life. They were going to get married. The fact that he wanted her in such a way made Darlene pulsate with joy.

  “I need you right now, Pete,” Darlene said. She had only been intimate with him the one time, and if that and a few days of romantic drama was enough for Pete to fall for her, then she’d have to consummate it right away. If she was going to marry this man, she needed to please him. She needed to feel him inside of her. She needed to taste him this time.

  Since he had just knelt down on the one knee for her, she felt like it was her turn. With Pete standing up, it was Darlene’s turn to drop to her knees. She felt the cool wood of the boat under her knees. A wad of cash rested uncomfortably under her leg until she kicked it aside. It went overboard, and Darlene nearly choked.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” Pete said. He put his hand on the back of her head. “I’m not worried about it. I’m more interested in what you’re about to do to me.”

  Darlene smiled. That comment made her feel like more than the amount of money she just put into the ocean. The thought of the green paper becoming useless fled from her mind—her attention was back to Pete’s body. Reaching her hands forward she smoothed her hands along the backside of his Armani pants. Staring at where his dick rested behind the pants and underwear, Darlene sat there on her knees licking her lips. She wanted Pete to look at her. She wanted Pete to see how much she craved him in her mouth.

  “I love you, Darlene,” Pete moaned.

  “I love you too, baby,” Darlene said. She looked into his eyes and imagined the life of danger they would indulge in, licked her lips, and then gave him her mouth.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 33 of 40

  Out of Bounds

  A notification flashed on Skye’s phone, telling her she was invited to a school reunion at the end of the year. “Come and see how everyone is doing ten years on...” read the message.

  Great, thought Skye sarcastically. Unmarried, no children, and about to take my clothes off in a bar full of men just to pay the rent. She cringed as she imagined all the ex-classmates that would end up at the reunion; boasting about their careers and rich husbands. The joy mixed with pity on their faces as they asked: “So Skye, what are you up to these days?”

  She pushed it out of her mind, and concentrated on the job at hand. Peeking out through a tiny gap in the stage curtain, she could make out the sea of eyes waiting for her to step out on stage. Hungry male eyes.

  With a deep breath and silent prayer, Skye stepped through the curtains and onto the stage. Her black, strappy monokini left little to the imagination, and she felt exposed. But Skye knew how to fake confidence, and to the feverish audience, she looked like an Amazonian goddess with her tall frame and long black hair.

  Although it was a far cry from any career she’d envisaged for herself, she knew it played to her biggest strength: her ability to read men. And as she moved across the stage, it wasn’t difficult to see why Skye Wilder had become the star attraction at this bar.

  Skye knew that many of the men here weren’t bad people. Some of the regulars, such as Joe, a computer programmer on a six-figure salary, were just men with high-pressure day jobs looking for release.

  Except something was different tonight. As Skye looked out over the jeering crowd, banging their beer glasses and groping her legs, she knew something had changed. This was not what she wanted for herself.

  Without a word uttered, Skye grabbed the few clothes she’d shed, and left the stage.

  Ten minutes later, Skye’s aunt, Margo was waiting for her in the parking lot. Skye got into the passenger seat of Margo’s car, and the two women sat there for a while as she caught her breath.

  “What did your boss say?”

  “He was furious!” said Skye, shaking her head and trying to find the levity in the situation. The truth was she didn’t take pleasure in letting people down–and she’d never quit a job in her life.

  Margo gave Skye a reassuring look in the way only she seemed capable of giving. Growing up with two alcoholic and self-destructive parents, Skye always felt grateful to have one stable figure in her life: her aunt, Margo. Almost forty years older than Skye with a hefty build and strong jaw, Margo was a big, imposing woman. Yet despite that, there was something gentle about her face–a protective quality, which seemed to radiate from her.

  “There’s just one problem now of course,” began Skye. “I’m jobless.”

  Margo laughed warmly. “Well, that would be a problem!” she admitted. “Although, I do have a secretarial role to fill for one of my clients across town. At that new golf resort which opened up recently.”

  “Secretarial? I don’t know the first thing about being a secretary!” said Skye.

  “I need someone I can rely on. Someone who won’t let me down. And you fit that bill, don’t you?”

  Skye smiled at how Margo posed the question. It was so hard to win an argument with her.

  “One of your clients? Doesn’t that mean they’ll be super sophisticated?”

  Margo ran an agency that provided specialist staff to big businesses around town.

  “As sophisticated as they come. This one is Cace Arrington. He’s the leisure tycoon, who took over his family’s business. They own hotels and resorts all over the world. Have you heard of him?”

  Skye shook her head. She couldn’t say she followed the lives of high-flying executives.

  “I don’t speak their language, Margo,” Skye protested. To Skye, it seemed like the conversations of the wealthy always revolved around wines and investments and other things she knew little about.

  “You speak to people, Skye. And that’s what you’ll need to do well on this job. I’ll send a cab to pick you up next week.”

  *****

  Arrington Woodlands was a sprawling, luxury golf resort in the countryside. From the back of the cab, Skye struggled to see where the boundaries of the golf courses ended; the landscape seemed to roll on for miles.

  She was wearing the smartest white blouse she owned, and had applied just a touch of make-up to her face.

  Prior to taking on the assignment, Skye had been required to sign what felt like an endless array of non-disclosure and confidentiality agreements. Margo had told her that the Arrington company was being extra-careful at this time as it was under investigation. Local residents had been complaining of ‘scare tactics’…arson attacks at night, poisoning livestock…all designed to scare these residents into selling their houses. Rumor was that these actions were being sanctioned by the Arrington company itself, which wanted the nearby land to expand the golf resort. It was even said that approval for these acts was coming from the very top of the company. Skye wondered what kind of man that made Cace Arrington. I guess I’ll find out soon enough, she thought.

  Dee, the friendly doorman at the entrance of hotel, couldn’t hide his delight as Skye stepped out of the cab. He had seen little of interest all day, and even in her simple blouse, Skye had a natural beauty that resonated with men. He helped her with her bags, and directed her into the lobby, where she was to ask for ‘Head of Staff, Petra Runington.’

  What Margo had only told Skye about this secretarial role, much later on, was that it would be for approximately three weeks–as the club prepared for the grand opening of a special golf tournament to be hosted at the resort. During those three weeks, Skye would be required to reside at the hotel so that she could be ‘on-call’ for any urgent assistance.

&nb
sp; The inside lobby of the hotel reminded Skye of a hunting lodge with its mahogany walls, leather couches and fireplace. To the back of the lobby was an impressive bar area with seating. A man and woman were the only other people in the lobby; both wearing suits and both chatting noisily to one another. The woman was in her fifties with shoulder length blonde-hair, whilst the man, similar in age, was tall with thinning brown hair. The woman had a tendency to burst into a loud, throaty laugh every time the man said something she found amusing.

  The woman glanced over at Skye, and as though to apologize for the noise, said, “Lawyer talk!”

  Skye fidgeted uncomfortably in the lobby, feeling more and more out-of-place with every passing second.

  Suddenly from the top of the lobby’s staircase, came an attractive woman only a few years older than Skye. She walked with the poise of someone who had been privately-educated, and wore the hair of someone that could afford an expensive salon.

  “Hi. I’m Petra,” she announced, almost pushing past Skye to get to the man and woman. “It’s an absolute pleasure. My colleague down the hallway will show you to the conference room!”

  As the man and woman headed off to the conference room, the woman who’d identified herself as Petra turned to face Skye.

  “Hi, I’m Skye. The new secretary,” said Skye offering her hand to shake.

  Petra immediately took Skye by the arm and pulled her to one side.

  “Yes, Skylar. I need to just pick you up on something straight away. Those two people were Margaret Landry and Paul Kingsley, two of the most esteemed criminal attorneys in the country. I would have hoped you’d have taken your luggage directly to your room before clocking in with me as it doesn’t look great for our staff-members to be loitering around in the lobby with their suitcases. Especially with all the bad press that seasonal workers get these days. I hope you can understand?”

  Before Skye could respond, she continued, “I know you’re not going to be with us for very long but here at Arrington we do expect that level of attention to detail. Now Mr. Arrington is about to begin a conference with his lawyers so if you could drop your things to your room, I’ll need you down in the conference room in five minutes to take notes.”

 

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