Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  He got it.

  She was being genuine.

  “So this wasn’t a set up, and you do always wear garters under your clothes?”

  “At work, yes, at home, I wear sweats. I sleep naked, and I like a man who isn’t afraid to make me as crazy as I can make him. You’re different in bed than you are at work.”

  “Am I?” he asked.

  “Yes, you are. It was sexy. You, as a package, are very appealing to me.”

  He laughed.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  He moved toward her, yanked her out of her chair, and tossed her back over his shoulder.

  Then, he headed toward the pool house. Before he got there, his hand landed sharply on her half-naked ass.

  Delilah gasped in shock and outrage.

  And then she got wet.

  Yeah, she couldn’t believe it.

  She’d fallen for a freaking cop, and he could read her like a book.

  * * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *

  When Emma found him, he was in his room. She knocked and was told to go away.

  Yeah, that sounded like Chris. When he was stirred up, he liked to think things through. Of course he’d retreat to his room to mull over everything he’d done, or should have done.

  She loved him for that.

  Ignoring him, she headed into his room.

  Chris was standing there in his boxers. He spun, ready to bitch, when he saw her.

  “Emma.”

  She raced toward him, and threw herself at him. He caught her and held her while she cried. There would be no need for words with him. He’d get it.

  Chris always understood.

  “I have you, sweetheart. I have you, Emma, and I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  As the storm raged on, he soothed her. Since he’d let her get hurt, he had to take the time to ease that pain.

  Finally, she was able to speak.

  “I’m sorry I said those things to you,” she admitted. “I was hurt, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  “I forgive you,” he said, still hugging her. “I would never hurt you intentionally, had I thought you wanted him to pay.”

  She set him free.

  “I didn’t. You were right. I was just mad.”

  She took his hand and led him to his bed. When she sat, he dropped down beside her.

  “I don’t deserve you or Dimitri in my life. I lashed out, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  He could do better than that.

  “When we were pinned in that building, and I had been shot in the chest, we shared something.”

  She listened.

  “I thought I was going to die.”

  “Well, you did twice in the ambulance. You made me age about twenty years. It was the longest day of my life.”

  “I said a lot of things to you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “You’ve never told Greyson any of it, have you?” he asked, needing the truth.

  Here was a fine line.

  She wasn’t really lying to her husband. Chris had told her things, thinking he was dying. They deserved to stay between them.

  As friends.

  As Cops.

  As family.

  “No. You told me your feelings, and they were personal between us. I told you mine. That was our moment, and had you died, I wanted you to know that I felt the same.”

  He tucked some red hair behind her ear.

  “Sometimes, life throws things at you to mix it up. I never wanted to love some bossy redhead who was possibly the best cop I’ve ever met, but I fell for you. What I feel for you…it’s mine. I’ll carry it forever in my heart. We can’t change it, but it’s still there.”

  She was aware.

  Had she not been married to Greyson, she would have married Chris in a heartbeat.

  He was…special.

  While Dimitri had part of her heart, Chris did, too, but for very different reasons. There was that connection.

  “When I told Greyson to tell you, I had to make the choice I made knowing your soul. You’re good, kind, and peaceful. The Emma I fell in love with wouldn’t be a vengeful killer. I had to believe in that woman. If not, then everything I’d ever believed about you, and what I felt for you…”

  He stared into her eyes.

  She continued for him, “It would be a lie. I get it now.”

  “If you went out and took his life, I’d lose respect for you. I’d know that I was wrong about you. When you were keeping the blood in my body with your shirt and bare hands, you kissed me. That was the Emma I wanted to remember. She’s the one I wanted to die with on my mind. The last woman I ever kissed.”

  She wiped her eyes.

  Emma understood now. He was preserving his own heart by protecting hers. He had to know the truth.

  “I accept what was done, but I have a hole in my heart.”

  He believed it.

  “We will work at healing that, but with time—not vengeance. Not you, Emma. Not the woman that I believed was above that.”

  He was right.

  They’d both been cops. There was a different set of rules for them.

  “Tomorrow, we start working on who is taking women and selling them. We have to fight against something so big, and it’s going to be brutal. We can’t be angry, divided, or out for blood.”

  “You’re right, Christopher. I see it from your perspective, and I agree.”

  He relaxed.

  “Thank you.”

  He kissed her knuckles.

  “Thank you for restraining him. That was either brave or stupid. I’m not sure which.”

  He laughed. “Oh, the latter. He’s going to kick my ass as soon as he’s free.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s a good man. He’s like you. He just has the weight of Vegas on his shoulders. He wouldn’t enjoy it.”

  “And that’s why I tied him to your bed.”

  She laughed.

  “You’re welcome, and I will say I’m jealous of only two things he has, and that sex room is one. It may even be the winner.”

  Emma stood.

  She understood what he was saying. She was the other.

  “I’m glad you found Natasha.”

  He touched her face. “I am too. She heals most of me. I just need you to know…”

  He struggled.

  She understood.

  Emma kissed him softly on the lips. She shared with him her heart. “I love you, Christopher. We’ll always have that moment when you thought you were dying. That’s ours. It will live as long as we do. The truth doesn’t die. It stays there until it’s no longer needed.”

  He grinned.

  “Yeah, we will always have that.” He clenched his fist and held it to his heart.

  She blew him a kiss.

  Then she left.

  Emma had one last man to thank, and he was the most important one.

  Because he was her heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  G reyson was not amused by any of what had happened. In fact, he was going to make sure the men realized this was a huge mistake. He would get even if it was the last thing he did. Heads would roll. When he finally got himself free, he was going to make someone bleed.

  He was the head of this family, and here he was, restrained in his own love nest with no hope of getting out.

  Yeah, he was not amused.

  On the other hand, at least he was relatively comfortable. At some point, he’d be free, and until then, he would have to keep himself busy.

  That’s where the TV came in. At least there was that.

  Well, that’s what he thought until he began watching the news, and it was the same story over and over again.

  It was about Emma.

  And her infidelity.

  As Croft sat there, a prisoner in the room he’d created for them, he was forced to watch Emma
laughing and kissing Chris. He was forced to watch her in his arms as they headed into a strip club.

  Rational Greyson knew the truth.

  She’d never cheat.

  Irrational, bound, and pissed off Greyson…

  He was harder to convince.

  As he sat there, he wanted his wife more and more. He needed her. Only she could help him through this. His heart was aching, his mind was racing, and the thoughts…they weren’t puritanical.

  He was horny.

  Maybe it was adrenaline.

  Maybe it was the fact that she was in another man’s arms, but he wanted her against his body like that.

  He was throbbing.

  Rock hard, and he needed relief.

  Greyson glanced over at the door, as it began opening. In the entrance, he saw his wife. She was watching him, as if he were some crazed maniac, waiting to attack.

  God!

  He was.

  The second she set him free, she was screwed.

  Literally.

  Emma saw him, and her heart skipped. He was dressed in Cargo pants, and looked wicked. Her husband reminded her of some mercenary gone rogue.

  She wanted him, and there was no doubt in her mind what he needed to come down off this. If she didn’t want him out killing, she needed to satiate that other beast.

  It was time.

  As she closed the door and locked it from inside, he still watched her. Clicking off the TV, she headed his way.

  “Greyson.”

  He tracked her with his silver eyes.

  But he said nothing through the tape.

  “I’m sorry I dumped all my emotional baggage all over you. It wasn’t right. Chris was right, and so was Dimitri. Thomas Christ needs to be taken care of, but not by you, not by me, and not by this family. Justice will prevail.”

  He couldn’t think.

  Greyson could smell the scent of her perfume, and it made his heart thump. It was the call of mate to mate, and he was helpless to it. She was his, and Croft wanted her.

  As she climbed onto the bed, his heart became erratic. Greyson dropped his legs so they were flat, and she moved toward him.

  Emma could see the bulge in his cargo pants, and she knew what he was thinking about.

  He wanted her.

  Still.

  It was a relief.

  Pulling a knife out of her pocket, she cut through the zip ties at his ankles.

  His legs moved apart.

  Then she reached for his hands.

  And stopped.

  Intently, he watched her, and for his kitten, it was almost judgment time. The second he was free, Greyson was going to be on her and unmerciful.

  Croft had the overwhelming need to take her.

  He’d been tied up, humiliated, and forced to watch her frolic with another man. His control was frayed, and he was on the verge of murder.

  Emma would pay. Her body would be his, and there would be no stopping him.

  Emma hesitated, and still he said nothing. The way he was watching her worried Emma.

  Maybe she didn’t want to set him free.

  What if he left?

  What if he raced out of the house to kill that asshole?

  Well, her mind was made up.

  She removed the tape.

  “Set me free, Emma,” he said.

  She’d heard that tone before. It was icy cold and it scared the bejeezus out of her.

  “No.”

  He blinked, unable to believe what he’d just heard her say. Did his kitten just tell him no?

  It added to the fuel. This was just one more thing that blazed in him.

  “Emma, if you know what’s best for yourself, you’re going to set me free.”

  Instead of being afraid of his words, she reached for him. Flicking open him cargo pants, he stared down at her hand.

  She stroked him.

  She ran her fingers over the bump in his boxers.

  “Set me…”

  Emma slapped the tape back over his mouth, and he stared at her with wide eyes.

  “When am I ever going to get this gift again?” she asked, popping the knife back out.

  She grabbed him by the shirt, and cut it up his body, revealing his chest.

  He leaned back, watching her.

  In his mind, he was begging her to continue. He needed her. While she thought that he was going to be angry, he wasn’t.

  He was simply going to take.

  At that moment in his life, he’d never needed her more. Beneath that scary exterior, all the hype about him being lawless, there was still that man who worried he’d lose the one good thing he had.

  Her.

  Greyson was scared shitless. He couldn’t lose Emma. If he did, he’d be forced to be alone in life.

  He wouldn’t make it.

  Emma bared his chest, and dropped the knife. She wanted to feel. She needed him so badly, that she couldn’t help herself.

  Straddling his lap, she ran her hands up the light spattering of hair on his torso.

  It was the best feeling in the world.

  With her mouth, she left kisses all over his big strong chest. He moaned beneath the tape and didn’t struggle anymore. Emma moved to his neck, and began teasing him with her teeth. His throat, his earlobe, and finally, with words whispered into his ear.

  “I am going to really enjoy this. You’re mine, Captain Croft, and I’m going to use you.”

  His body vibrated in need.

  As he listened to her words, he couldn’t help but focus on her hands. They were going lower and lower, and finally were in his boxers on the prize.

  He wanted to weep in gratitude.

  This was exactly what he needed.

  Emma hopped off the bed, and he protested. Then he stopped, when she slowly stripped out of her clothes. First she tossed the pants, and then the shirt. Next to go was the bra, and she dropped the little pair of panties.

  Picking them up, she crawled back across the bed to her husband.

  “Remind me to thank Chris and Dimitri for this. I’ve always wondered if I’d ever get a chance to do this,” she whispered, pulling the tape off his mouth.

  When he opened to speak, she shoved her panties in to shut him up. Emma wanted to live in fantasy land for a while. She didn’t want to think about what waited tomorrow morning.

  She wanted him.

  Only this man would chase away the shadows. He was her soulmate, and he mattered more than anyone else in her life. With Greyson, she could live, and she didn’t thank him nearly enough.

  Well, that ended now.

  Today.

  Here.

  She was going to thank him the only way she could—by offering herself up to him.

  “This is a long time coming,” she whispered, his body rippling beneath her fingers.

  Greyson was surprised, but her aggressiveness did what he needed. It calmed him down, so he could just relax, forget about his worries, and let her drive the bus.

  When Emma rubbed against him, he moaned, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back.

  “It looks like you’re my prisoner,” she whispered. “I think I should let the torture begin.”

  Without warning, she grabbed the knife and cut his boxers apart like wrapping paper on a present.

  He was her gift.

  He was the most precious of treasures to her.

  He watched, unable to look away. When she ran the backside of the cold blade against his erection, it sent shivers across his body.

  He was ready.

  Maybe.

  Then again, he was never ready for what this one woman could do to him. From the second their eyes met in Celestia, she’d had all the power.

  His wife could save or destroy him a million times over. With one action, one word, or one deed, he could be broken. His life was in her hands.

  Emma dropped the blade, and her head went into Greyson’s lap. Once there, she began devouring him.

  She wasn’t gentle either.
<
br />   That wasn’t her mood.

  She was still hurting, angry, and anxious, and she let him carry the brunt of that on his shoulders. Emma worked him hard, as if she was trying to consume him in little greedy bites.

  Greyson moaned. He fought to get relief as his hips began moving. As soon as he did that, she stopped.

  He was breathing heavily through her panties.

  “I like having you helpless, Captain Croft. For once, it’s nice being on the other side,” she whispered into his ear.

  Oh, he wasn’t complaining, especially after the start of that blowjob.

  It was hot.

  Greyson was thinking of implementing this fantasy a little more often. He’d play her prisoner of war any damn day.

  Emma slid up his body, finding him so hard it had to be painful. Instead of making him suffer too much, she teased him by sliding him through her wetness.

  “You do this to me,” she whispered into his ear. “Only you, Greyson,” she vowed.

  It helped his fears.

  “I can’t wait to have this child, and see you hold a little one with those same amazing eyes.”

  He tipped his head, and she bit him, simultaneously sliding down to fill her own body with his.

  He bucked from the sensation.

  Jesus!

  His wife was pulling out all the stops.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” she whispered, as she began to ride.

  Greyson was being tortured. He was watching breasts bounce, feeling her sliding up and down his dick, and her face!

  Christ Almighty!

  Her face said it all. There was nothing but adoration and love there for him. He’d been worried for nothing. She was still his. At the core of this family, they were still strong and madly in love.

  His fortune and luck staggered him.

  He fought to hold on.

  “Don’t you dare cum, or you’re staying like this until I can get you hard again!” she ordered.

  He’d give her this.

  Greyson fought. Meanwhile, the knife slid right next to his fingers. It gave him something to focus on—to keep from exploding.