by Rose, Baylee
“What?”
“You heard me. Do it, Ana.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, when he roughly pulls me so I’m standing between his legs.
“That’s easy, pet. I’m going to play with my favorite toy,” he tells me, his hand going to undo the button on my slacks.
“Roman, we’re in the middle of a business party. They’ll see!”
“Not if you’re careful. Now, if you draw attention to us… probably.”
“We can’t do this,” I tell him, even as my breathing speeds up and I look forward to his touch.
“It is happening. I think you forgot who has control,” he whispers into my ear, and chills run down my body as my heart speeds up. I should hate him when he talks like that. I should hate that he treats me as if I am his property. It shouldn’t excite me the way it does. My body shouldn’t betray me and become aroused until the point of pain, needing what only Roman can give me.
“I didn’t forget. You would never let me forget,” I tell him, and even to my ears, I sound like a petulant child.
“Interesting, because I could have sworn I told you to wear a particular dress tonight, and yet here you are in pants.”
“The dress was too revealing. It showed everything I had.”
“That’s the problem. It’s mine to reveal. Mine to control and mine to reward. I wanted every man in here to envy what is mine. To look, knowing they could never touch. I like it, Ana. I like knowing the sad fucks are home jacking off by their on hand and hating it because I have what they really want. I’m the one sunk balls-deep inside of her, making her scream. You took that away from me, pet. Now you have to pay the consequences.”
“Roman…” I gasp his name as his hand slides into my loosened pants and cups my pussy, squeezing it.
“So warm and hot. This is my pussy now, Ana. Mine. It craves what I can give it,” he growls in my ear as his fingers dive inside of me without warning. Jesus. How many did he thrust inside of me? More than one. Three, maybe? I can’t be sure. The one thing I do know is that he’s right. My pussy is so wet that it made his fingers thrust inside my channel easily. With each glide, and the teasing of his thumb against my clit, my desire increases, making me crave his cock. He’s right. My body is his to control and it does need him. I hate myself because he has that control over me. I hate him because it’s only my body he wants, not me… not my heart.
“One thing I should tell you, pet.”
“What?” I ask and it sounds more like a moan.
“I’m going to finger-fuck you, just like this, for ten more minutes. The only catch is, you can’t come until I tell you.”
“Roman, I…”
“If you come, that would be bad. You didn’t want to wear the dress I chose? If you come without permission, I won’t care that everyone in here will see you. I’ll strip you naked, bend you over this chair and fuck you until you tell everyone who you belong to.” His words make my body shake and my orgasm build. My eyes close and I can picture him doing exactly that. Exactly.
Oh, God.
Ana trembles in my arms. I was pissed at her for defying me, but I have to admit, I love when she shows fire. Fuck, I love teaching her lessons, and this one might be the most enjoyable yet. Three fingers sink into that tight pussy. She’s so fucking tight that even though she’s drenched, it’s hard to stretch her enough to get them inside of her. The scent of her arousal blooms around us as my thumb makes tiny circles against her throbbing clit. I push into it, holding it. It pulsates against my thumb the same way her walls are massaging against my fingers. It’d take so little to set her off. It makes me think my little Ana is an exhibitionist at heart.
“My pet is so greedy for my fingers. Does it turn you on, knowing I’m fucking you with a hundred people watching us? They’re all wondering exactly what I’m doing to you, Ana.”
“Jesus, Roman,” she whispers, her hands biting into my shoulders as she tries to brace herself to keep from falling.
“Maybe we should show them. Would you like that, pet? Do you want me to get on my knees and eat out your juicy little cunt while they’re all standing back there? Every man in here wants to be able to do that right now. They want between your legs. They want to bury their head so deep into your pussy and eat out this little cunt until your juice runs down their face and they drown in it while you ride them.”
“Oh, fuck. Roman… I need…”
“I know what you need. You need me to…”
“Come. Oh, God. Baby, I need to come,” she whimpers, her voice hoarse and raw. Her nails are biting into my skin. I can feel the muscles of her legs clench as her pussy presses down on my hand, trying to suck it further in and ride the hell out of it. She’s already thrusting in rhythm with my hand, forgetting she has an audience. I spin her around, pinning her up against the wall, my body shielding her. I slow down my strokes, now. Letting my fingers glide in and out of her soaked little cunt, but going slow and methodical. It’s not easy. That fucking pussy of hers is so hungry it clings to my fingers, grinding down on me every time they push into her.
“Roman, please stop torturing me,” she whimpers.
In response, I bite into the side of her neck, giving her a sting of pain. I can feel her pussy quivering against my hand as even more moisture floods onto my fingers. I know that in one more thrust, one more bite, she’s mine. She’ll come so hard, she’ll scream my name, not caring who can hear her. I’m a bastard enough to want that and I’d give it to her.
One thing holds me back. She disobeyed me. With that in mind, I stop completely. I pull my hand out from her warm depths with regret. I step back so she can watch me as I suck her sweet juice from my fingers. Fuck. Nothing in the world tastes like my Ana.
“Roman?” Her voice is confused and full of need.
I button her pants, leaning in at her ear so that only she can hear me. Fuckers are already trying to get closer to us, to get in on the show. “You don’t get to come, pet. Maybe after we get home and you suck my cock and beg, maybe then. But if you want to defy me when I ask you for something, then that means you still need to learn who is in charge of your body.” I pull away at her gasp, my hand going to her back to steer her back toward the crowd. She walks a step or two but resists me after a minute.
“But, Roman…”
“And Ana, if you even think of going to the restroom and making that sweet little pussy come, you won’t sit still for a fucking week. Are we clear?”
Her eyes go round, her hand coming up to rub nervously against her throat. She nods her head once, watching me the entire time.
We’re clear.
With every mile that brings us closer to downtown Miami, my heart hurts. The ride has been quiet, each of us in our own thoughts. We came home from the party last night and I thought everything was great. Roman pushed me up against the wall and buried his face between my legs, making me come twice before making slow love to me on the floor in front of the fireplace. We’ve made love a lot of ways, but none have been as sweet and slow as last night’s had been.
I came so close to telling him I loved him. What would his reaction have been? The unknown of how he would react when he found out all my secrets was the only thing that held me back.
I was on the verge of my confession when we got the call. Someone had killed Big Joe. His body was thrown out in front of Roman’s expensive club. His men called him the moment the body was discovered. I’m still in shock. I loved Big Joe. He was a mountain of a man with a soft side that he showed the women he protected. Roman held me while I cried, but since the call, I’ve seen the change in him. He’s a man bent on revenge now. Completely business and cold in his demeanor. I understand it, even though I wish he could come back to me and be the man who made me feel alive last night.
“Did Joe have family?” I wonder aloud, not really asking Roman. I suppose I’m not even fully aware that I asked the question out loud. I just keep thinking what a shame it is that this world is robbed of such a good
person.
“No one.”
“That’s sad. No one behind to mourn your passing,” I whisper. Roman doesn’t respond. I didn’t really expect him to. “Where are we going?”
“I’m going to drop you off at the apartment and then I have to go to the morgue to identify the body.”
“I could go with you, Roman,” I tell him, not wanting him to be without me—in the city, especially, as I’m more aware that Paul could try to set Roman up at any moment.
“No, Ana. I don’t want you around any of this. I’ll get it handled and check on your brother and then meet you back at the apartment.”
“Maybe I should see my brother?” I suggest, not completely sure I want to at this point.
“He’s getting better, Ana, but I don’t want him around you. Not yet.”
“Roman, you can’t protect me from the world,” I complain as we pull into the parking garage of Roman’s apartment complex.
“I can try,” he says with a ghost of a smile.
His face looks so tired. My hand reaches up to brush away the wrinkles that are gathered around his eyes. “I love you, Roman.” My heart pounds in my chest. I didn’t mean to say the words. They slipped out and now they’re just hanging between us. I can’t call them back and I can’t make them unheard.
“Ana,” he says, and I can read the regret there. You don’t have to be a detective or a beat cop to see the writing on the wall.
“Shh… I didn’t tell you because I expected anything back. I just wanted you to know.” I’m half lying. I didn’t tell him on purpose, but still it would have been nice to hear something back. Instead, I get a Roman who looks uncomfortable, a Roman who is rubbing the tension out of the back of his neck—tension my big mouth probably put there. The car comes to a stop and I turn the handle quickly, intent on getting out. Roman’s hand on my arm stops me.
“We’ll talk tonight, pet. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” I plaster a fake smile on my face. He holds my neck again and brings my lips to him. He gives me a sweet kiss, brief, but his tongue slides into my mouth, slow and seductive. “Be safe,” I tell him before sliding out. One of his security guys is already waiting for me at the door. I need to get my head out of my ass and start figuring out what on earth I’m doing here. The only thing that is clear is that I’ve gone too far with Roman to ever find my way back to being the Ana I was before I went undercover, which means I need to try and protect Roman and get out from under Paul completely. I need to concentrate on that plan right now. Honestly, if I concentrated on the fact that I just told Roman I loved him and he didn’t even bother to hide the look of surprise and regret in his face, I’d fall to my knees and cry. I can’t do that. This seems like the safest option.
I walk into the apartment as if I’m on autopilot, and maybe I am, because I can’t even remember the ride up in the elevator. I go straight to the bedroom and pull out my cellphone.
The asshole barely answers before I interrupt him. “Paul. We need to talk. I’ve decided to do what you want.”
“What if I said I don’t need you now?” he asks, and the implications of that scare the hell out of me.
“What if I told you I could deliver more than just what you asked? We need to meet.” I’m bluffing my ass off here, but I don’t have a fucking choice.
“Coffee shop on the corner. There’s a small room off from the bathrooms. It will be unlocked. You have fifteen minutes and you better not be wasting my time, Ana.”
“I’ll be there.” I tell him, closing my eyes and reminding myself that I don’t have a choice.
I know who is behind Joe’s murder. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist. My mind is trying to stay on course, but hearing Ana tell me she loves me… Fuck.
I know how women get. She expects me to say that shit back. That’s impossible. I don’t believe in fucking love. Never had it in my life and I’ve seen enough of human nature to know that fucking shit doesn’t exist. Nothing overrules human nature. When things get right down to it, survival is what matters most to people. No amount of feelings can outweigh that. Anything that says that it does is just some bastardized publicity. That’s it.
All that said, I will admit to a perverse thrill at Ana’s words. If I can nurture that and keep her trapped by my side, that’s all I need. I’ll make sure she never wants for a motherfucking thing. Keep her happy enough that she never questions about what else is out there.
As she disappears into the elevator with a security detail, I pick up the phone. I need to switch gears to business. I will have to plan shit out with Ana later.
My first move is to call Marcum to let him know what’s going on.
“Hello?” A woman answers the phone. It’s surprising because, as much as Marcum fucks around with chicks, not a damn one of them would ever answer this number.
“I’m looking for Marcum. Who is this?”
“This is his daughter-in-law, Tess. Marcum was in an accident.”
“An accident?” I ask, instantly alert.
“Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a little while, but he’ll be okay.”
“What happened?”
“Can I ask who’s calling?” she asks, instead of answering.
“Tell your father-in-law that his old friend from the neighborhood called and I’ll be in touch,” I tell her, hanging up. Marcum will understand who it is and I sure as fuck don’t need to leave my name unless my job is the reason the son of a bitch ended up in the shape he’s in.
Looks like I am going to have to handle Banks through a different manner. Kuzma, maybe, though I hesitate to go that route. I’m not going into business with the son of a bitch now, and owing him anything might not be an ideal situation. I need to think on this shit because if what happened with Joe is what I think, then I’ll be seeing Banks soon.
Very fucking soon.
“You’ve got five minutes, Ana. Make it good,” Paul barks, dragging me into the small room where I was to meet him.
I’m calling on every technique I ever learned to still my nerves and get through this meeting. I’m trained in meeting with the enemy and becoming part of their crowd. I just never imagined that the enemy would be the so-called good guys. Looking at Paul now—his black hair peppered around the edges, his face a mixture of worry and hatred, bags under his eyes, his jawline sallow and bloated, his stomach being more of a beer belly than the fit detective from my childhood—I wonder how I missed the signs. Dirty cop. I’ve heard the talk about them as I went through the academy; it hurts that the first one I encounter would be a man I looked up to.
“I still have the coke.”
“So?”
“I know you asked me to plant it, but I have something better… something bigger.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Ana?”
“I know where he’s holding Allen. I can get him to take me there next week. You can follow us and bust him for kidnapping, attempted murder, and…”
“Why next week? If you had done what I asked you to do the first time, this would have been done.”
“Okay, Paul. I’m going to level with you. You were right. I was losing my focus. I was falling under Roman’s spell. But then I saw my brother. He’s keeping him caged like a damn animal. He said he was going to kill him unless I did whatever he asked. That’s the only reason I went to his house with him. That’s the only reason I couldn’t talk to you. He’s had me monitored night and day. I had to sneak out to even make it here today. I didn’t have a choice.”
“So you want me to twiddle my thumbs for a week while you maneuver Anthes into your trap?”
“It could work, Paul, and it would be so much more substantial than planting the coke on him, like your original plan.”
“You know, Ana, I have to wonder why you keep mentioning my original plan. Actually, I’m wondering why you agreed to meet me at all after ignoring me for so long.”
“I told you…”
“That you did, but I’m fi
nding I don’t really believe you.”
“Paul…” My heart is beating erratically. It only increases when Paul reaches out and grabs my shirt. A man steps out of a dark corner of the room and I back away. I haven’t seen this guy before and the look on his face is enough to scare me. “What’s going on here?” I ask, proud when I don’t sound like a scared little girl. I can’t give Paul that satisfaction.
Paul reaches out and grabs me roughly by the arm, holding me even while I fight him. I’m trying to remember my combat training, but the defensive course which I should know and be able to do by pure instinct has somehow left me. I kick out, intent on gaining control of this situation again. That’s when Paul’s friend grabs me, bending my arms behind my back.
“I am having trouble trusting you, Ana. I think I’m going to have to test you.”
“Test me?” I ask, trying to no avail to get free of the man’s hold. Paul pulls out a large hunting knife and my blood runs cold. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I come more prepared? What on Earth was I thinking?
“Yeah, Ana. I’ve been at this a long time. I see the signs,” he says, moving the side of the blade against my neck.
“Paul, you don’t have to do this,” I tell him, wishing I could get away from the man holding me prisoner. I’m afraid to move too much. The knife travels lower. I can feel the point of the blade now and it’s making a path down my neck. He pushes in slightly. I feel a sting and then warm liquid. The bastard drew blood. The sick sadistic smile on his face tells me he not only drew blood—he is enjoying it.
“Oh, but I’m afraid I do,” he tells me, and then all at once, he hooks my shirt into the blade of his knife and begins cutting. The fabric of my shirt slices in half, exposing my bra. Paul doesn’t stop his knife until he cuts the bra in the same fashion, exposing my breasts. His hand comes up to cup them and I fight against my hold to try and get away. “Well, look at that. I guess you don’t have a wire,” he sneers, his cold fingers moving over my nipple. I’m seconds away from vomiting.