by Sedona Venez
Eli is mine . . . forever.
“Eli.” It was the last word that spilled from my lips as I climaxed harder than I’d ever thought possible. My back arched, my head lifting from the pillow as my mouth reached out to his. “Eli.” It was the call to the man who was always fated to be mine. He was the long-lost best friend, the missing piece in the puzzle of my life.
“I’m coming,” he hissed, his eyes heavy-lidded, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He had never looked so sexy, so powerful, yet so helpless in his desperate need for release.
He came, and I came along with him, pleasure burning in me like a warm, steady glow that was slow to fade.
“Shit, Liv.” Exhausted, his body collapsed in a heap alongside mine. “Damn, that’s a great way to wake up,” he breathed, pulling me back up against his chest again.
“You’re telling me,” I replied, smiling, as I ran my fingers over his chest absently. I pressed a kiss to his nipple, sending another ripple of pleasure through him, and then I looked up at him through my lashes. “We’ve never really made love like this before, have we?”
“No.” He held me tighter.
I mused, remembering how our trysts had been in the past. In the back of his car, in a closet, maybe once in a real bed. Wherever we could catch a stolen moment with each other.
“We were always skulking about, trying to hide what we were doing from everyone,” he said with a little laugh. “I’m glad we don’t have to do that anymore.”
Though that wasn’t really true. We were still technically hiding from everyone, trying to stay under the radar. But neither of us spoke of the elephant in the room, instead focusing on enjoying our moment of peace while it lasted.
Eventually, we got up and showered, which led to another round of sex. Sometime around noon, we finally made it down to the kitchen for some food.
“I’m going into town today,” he said around a mouthful of toast as I fried up some eggs in a skillet. “I have to check the post office box and pick up some kerosene. You want to come along?”
I slid the fried eggs onto a platter and set them down in the middle of the table. Then I reached for a piece of toast and started slathering butter onto it. “No, I think I want to do some work in the studio today,” I said. “I’ve got a special painting I’m trying to finish,” I ended with a secretive smile.
“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow, suddenly interested. “Of what?”
“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about.” I finished my toast and eggs, and then I cleared away my plate. “Have a good trip, Eli,” I said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.
CHAPTER 17
Eli
OLIVIA SWEPT OFF WITH the dishes, and I couldn’t help but think this was what it must be like to have a wife. Someone to share a cup of coffee with before we both hustled off to work. Someone to come home to, to look forward to waking up with. Someone who was all mine. I wondered if such a life would ever be possible for Olivia and me.
It’s got to be. I’m not the same street kid I used to be. I’m a soldier, and I’ve got connections in high places now. If there is any time for Olivia and me to try to make a go of it, it’s now.
That’s the spirit, my inner wolf rumbled. Take what’s yours.
Chuckling a little, I cleared away the rest of the dishes and prepared to go into town.
The life and mind-set of a wolf is far simpler than mine. But maybe my beast is onto something, after all.
* * *
I was in a pretty good mood by the time I reached the post office.
I’d already stopped at the general store for the kerosene and made light conversation with some of the townsfolk in the square who were warming up nicely to the new Mr. Degan, especially after my wife had made an effort to visit the town, indicating to the women that I was not, in fact, single. Not that it had stopped some of them from giving me sultry looks and flirtatious smiles. Seemed that steamy kiss I’d given Olivia in the park the other day had gotten tongues wagging and imaginations firing.
Not that it really mattered either way. There was only one woman for me, and she was waiting back at the place I was beginning to think of as home, wearing a paint-smeared frock with her hair tied back as she worked on her latest masterpiece. When I’d come up to kiss her good-bye, there had been a smudge of blue paint on the tip of her nose, though I had no idea what the blue was for. She’d refused to let me see the painting, and all I knew was that it was being painted on a vertical canvas.
“Hello, Mr. Degan,” the postmaster called as I walked into the post office, his steel-gray bristle mustache twitching with a smile. “Come to check the mail?”
“Hello, Mr. Harrington.” I waited until the man finished ringing up the woman at the counter before I approached. “Have you got anything for me today?”
I was expecting Harrington to say no as he usually did. Mail hardly ever came to the residence out here unless Hunter or his family was actually here publicly, which was certainly not the case now. So I was taken aback when the postmaster actually nodded and ducked behind the counter.
“Yes, I believe something did come for you today,” he said, rummaging around. “Aha! Here we are.” He popped back up from behind the counter with a smile, proffering a single white envelope.
Taking the envelope, I glanced at the return address.
It was from a C. Kingston in Tallahassee, Florida, addressed to Mr. Todd Degan. I knew it was from Hunter because prior to my leaving, we’d agreed to use the secret code name “C. Kingston” for any emergency communication from him. I surmised the envelope was rerouted through a different state to keep it from being so easily tracked. Dread tugged my stomach toward the soles of my shoes.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Harrington. Good day.”
I left the post office, the postmaster staring after me with interest, and found a bench near the town square to sit on. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my pocketknife from my back pocket and used the blade to slit open the envelope. I slowly pulled out the letter and unfolded it, not at all sure I wanted to read it but knowing I had to.
Dear Mr. Degan,
Our friends in Chicago have been having a bit of trouble finding their missing outfits. I don’t know how, but they managed to figure out I was involved in their disappearance and have contacted me, demanding to know their location so that they could recover them. I have so far refused to give them any information, but they did make some interesting threats. As a result, I agreed to pass on a rather unfortunate message from Jack Carideo himself.
He insists, if the outfits are not returned, particularly the Italian skirt, they will have to seek reparations from the tailor who made them. According to Jack, they already have said tailor in custody, and he is quite a nuisance to them. So much of a nuisance, in fact, that if the outfits are not returned, they will have to let him go.
I cannot promise they won’t soon discover the locations of these outfits on their own, so I suggest that you act accordingly. I think it would be awfully nice if you kept in touch sometime.
Sincerely,
C. Kingston
I folded up the letter, my fingers numb, and I slid it into the pocket of my full-zip sweater that I wore under my coat. I didn’t know how the Outfit found out about Hunter, but given their vast intel connections, anything was possible. But Hunter’s code was crystal clear. Jack Carideo himself had gotten involved, and I knew from my experience with the Outfit that if Olivia wasn’t returned per their demand, they were going to kill her father.
A large part of me wanted to just shred the letter into a million pieces and ignore it. I didn’t care if Jack wanted to whack Sal Giordano as long as his daughter remained safe. After all, it was that bastard’s fault we were in this whole mess in the first place. But I knew Olivia would never forgive me if she found out I’d let her father die. She loved the crotchety old bastard even though he had chosen to lead a life of organized crime and had done nothing but cause her heartache all along.
No, I would have to take some kind of action; that was for certain.
The only problem was, I had no clue what I was going to do.
CHAPTER 18
Olivia
I WAS PULLING WHAT had to be the juiciest beef brisket ever made in history out of the oven when I heard the door slam.
“Eli?” I called.
My heart rate picked up in both anticipation and fear. Joy because I was looking forward to seeing him and fear because, in the back of my mind, the possibility always lurked that, one day, it wouldn’t be him but one of the Outfit’s cronies, come to drag me kicking and screaming back to Chicago.
Once, maybe even last week, a part of me would have welcomed going back to Chicago, to the familiar, where friends, classes, and my life awaited me.
After all, surely Dad would give these bastards what they wanted, and I would be able to go on with my life, wouldn’t I?
But ever since Eli and I had made love in that clearing, my feelings had changed. Now, instead of itching to get back to my art classes, I was itching to get back into his arms. Before, I had been a free spirit, wanting to travel the world, make new friends, and see new places. But now, I had the inexplicable urge to explore the globe with only him.
It’s because of Eli.
Now that I had been reunited with the man I loved, I wanted nothing more than simply to be with him. To be his partner in life, travel the world with him, create a home with him, have his babies, and support him, as I knew he would support me.
“I’m home,” he replied gruffly.
I frowned at the tone in his voice, which did not have a happy, expectant note at all.
“I made beef brisket,” I called, setting the pan on the chopping board to cool while I checked on the string beans. I could hear him hanging his coat on the rack, and I expected that his sensitive nose would likely pick up the scent of the mouthwatering brisket, lifting his spirits.
“Yeah, smells great.” He came into the kitchen, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and then moved past me to grab some dishes from the cabinet. “I’ll set the table.”
We sat down to eat a few minutes later, but I didn’t touch my food, unsettled by Eli’s change in demeanor. He kept his eyes focused on his plate as he single-mindedly shoveled the brisket into his mouth. There was a tension in his face and shoulders that hadn’t been there before he left the house.
“Is the food all right?” I inquired.
“What?” He sounded distracted and briefly glanced up at me. “Oh yeah, of course. It’s delicious.” He returned his attention to his plate. “You outdid yourself.”
“Okay.” Frowning, I tried again. “Did the donkey give you any trouble today?”
“No.” He furrowed his brows. “I took Sunshine with me.”
“That’s it.” Frustrated, I slapped my hand on the table, rattling the silverware. “What the hell is it?”
He jerked his head up, giving me his full attention now, and surprise flashed in his wide blue eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been tense and distracted ever since you got home,” I snapped, folding my arms over my chest. A little voice inside my head chattered that I was acting like a harping housewife and that I had no right to, but I squelched it with a mental stomp. “I thought everything was fine between us before you left, but now, you’re home and in a bad mood, and it’s worrying me. What happened? Did one of the townspeople say something that pissed you off?”
Eli closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t really ready to talk about this yet,” he muttered.
“Talk about what?” I asked. My anger was replaced by an unease that made my stomach twinge.
He sighed. “I got a letter in the mail today from Hunter.”
The unease quickly became foreboding, and I scooted forward on my seat. “What did it say?”
“The Outfit wants us back in Chicago. If we don’t return ASAP, there’ll be a shitstorm of trouble.”
“What?” I jumped out of my chair. “We’re not safe. They’ll find us.” I paced back and forth in the space between the kitchen and the table. “We have to get out of here. We should be upstairs packing right now!” I yelled, whirling around to face him.
“Calm down.” He was out of his chair, his hands on my shoulders. “We’re not just running out of here with no place to go and no plan in mind. I’m going to make some phone calls tomorrow, get a plan in place, and then we’ll go. You should expect to be on the move pretty soon.”
Sighing, I allowed my shoulders to slump as I looked around the room. I’d grown to love this place, and I wasn’t at all looking forward to leaving it. Nor was I looking forward to moving from place to place, falling in love with different locations and towns and then being forced to pack up again at the first sign of trouble.
“Maybe I should turn myself in,” I said with a defeated sigh. “It would save everyone a lot of time and trouble, and you would be free to go on with your own—”
He had me up against the wall before I could finish my sentence, his fingers digging painfully into my shoulders. “Don’t ever even think of saying that again,” he said with eyes glowing gold. “I’m not turning you in, not after all we’ve been through in getting this far.”
“You’re hurting me,” I cried out, my eyes stinging from the bruising force of his grip. Fear clawed at my throat from seeing the blazing fury in his eyes. I knew it wasn’t all from him, but from the wolf within him as well.
Instantly, his grip relaxed, and the gold glow in his eyes faded, replaced by the normal whites of his eyes and his clear blue irises. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, glancing away in shame. “I didn’t mean to get carried away like that. It’s just . . . I can’t bear to lose you.”
“Eli.” Aching, I moved into his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close to me. “Look, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It’s just that this is way too hard sometimes.”
“I know.” Pulling back, he stroked my cheek with his thumb, gazing down at me with a tender expression that sent warmth flooding through me, straight from the center of my body. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes.” I placed my hand over his and squeezed it. My eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill at any moment. “I love you, too.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
There was something stark and raw in his tone that made me pause, but I forced myself to move past it. He’d never given me any real reason to doubt him. My mind wandered back to the time when we were teens and I thought it would be exciting and cool to try my hand at shoplifting. I’d pocketed some jewelry even though I had the money to pay for it, and before they caught me, Eli had grabbed me, shoving the jewelry into his pocket, and said, “Olivia, I got this. Trust me.” He took the blame for the theft and spent six weeks in juvenile detention for something I did. So, when he said, “Trust me,” I did, because he’d always had my back.
“Of course I do,” I said, rising up on my toes to kiss his lips. “Always.”
He pressed me back up against the wall again, but this time, I welcomed it. Welcomed the way his palms flattened against the wall on either side of my face, protectively hemming me in as he kissed me with a passion that seared the very core of my being. The embers of desire in my belly that were ever-present when he was around suddenly burst into flames, and I hooked my legs around his waist, drawing him closer to my burning center. His tongue delved between my lips to
tangle with mine, and I clutched at his shoulders as we battled for control, neither of us able to give in or get enough of the other.
“Fuck me,” I whispered against his lips. “Right here. Right now. I want to feel you inside me.”
“Shit. Yes,” he rasped, untangling my legs from around his waist so he could pop the button on my jeans. He slid his fingers inside to touch my folds. A moan escaped my lips as he slid one finger and then two inside me.
“Yes,” I whispered, rocking my hips against his. “I need more.”
“There’s always more,” he said, pushing my jeans and panties down to the floor and hooking one of my ankles around his waist to give him better access.
Using his left hand, he slipped two fingers back into my pussy, and I gasped as he hit my sweet spot.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he growled, slowly sliding his fingers in and out of me. “Do you like it?”
“Oh yes,” I wailed, leaning my head against the wall.
His eyes were glowing gold again, the way I’d noticed they always did when he was particularly aroused, and their feral gleam thrilled me right down to my toes. It was somehow both humbling and empowering, and I’d never experienced anything like it.
“Damn, you’re so wet.”
He used the thumb on his other hand to stroke my clit as he continued finger-fucking me, and I thought my body was going to explode from sheer pleasure.
He pressed a finger against my lips. “Taste. Now.”
I opened my mouth to lick my juices off his thumb, the taste of my pussy on his finger extremely erotic. His eyes darkened as I continued to suck on his thumb, sliding my tongue along the side of the digit and then flicking the tip like I would his hard cock, and he growled before returning his finger to my clit.
“Come now,” he demanded, grinding his thumb against the sensitive nub.
He used his other fingers to apply pressure to my sweet spot, and I exploded in a wave of mind-numbing bliss, crying out incoherently. The pleasure seemed to last for minutes, and I was dimly aware of being picked up. The next thing I felt was the cold shock of the granite island countertop against my ass before he thrust his rock-hard cock inside me.