Her hands reached for the spindles of her headboard as she raised her butt higher while keeping the upper portions of her chest on the mattress. “Then do it. Show me how much you love me, Rio.”
What had only been spiraling desire soon turned into a raging inferno, searing him from the inside out as he pressed inside. He hissed on an inhale at the glorious feel of her surrounding him. “Give it to me, Vons. If you can’t say it, then give it to me another way.”
And god, she did. Rearing back each and every time he dragged himself away. Impaling her on him to create a deeper connection, a needy joining that totally blew his mind with every stroke.
Rio soon found himself on his knees, his hips undulating in a rhythm as old as time, one he couldn’t deny. And one he couldn’t help looking to as they remained joined, writhing in their communal, primal bliss.
And something he was determined to do with her for the rest of their lives.
“Faster,” she urged and Rio spread his knees to gain a better purchase against the mattress in order to do her bidding. And held back another hiss at the deepness he was able to achieve in the adjustment, the minute shift in their positions.
“Harder, baby,” she moaned, throwing her head back, her fingers grasping the slats of the headboard as her hips rolled. Accepting his length before ruching up against his circling fingers on her clit. “So good.”
Which was an indictment he couldn’t disagree with, since his body seemed determined to bring her to the ultimate pinnacle of delight before he allowed his own release. And that was a worthy goal since his body was already signaling the beginnings of his own impending bliss.
“Hurry, princess,” was all he was able to moan in that moment, the fingers of both hands moving, fiddling on the swollen bits of her with more pressure, more resolutely. He was determined she achieve her pleasure before his—but it was gonna be close.
So frickin’ close.
So goddamned close.
But then he felt her insides clench, saw the ripples of her delight in the muscles along her spine. “Oh Rio…,” she trilled on a note he’d never heard from her before. One happening just two strokes before he planted himself as far as his cock was able to go, as her tight, sweet pussy stroked his ejaculation from his very spine.
Which was only a breath after she moaned, “I love you, Rio. Love you so much.”
And just what the fuck was a guy to do with that?
*.*.*.*.*
Oh shit and fucking hell.
I’d said it.
Just opened my mouth in the heat of the moment and let those words flipping fly outta my mouth as if I said and felt that shit every day.
Did he hear them in the miasma of all the words we both let loose while in the grips of the amazing, erotic connection that stole over us occasionally? I hoped not.
Or I hoped so, depending on which side of the emotional fence my heart ran at any particular micro-second in time.
But he didn’t give any indication that my tiny, weakly offered words blew up his world as much as his had done mine, choosing instead to simply collapse against my back for a second before shifting his weighty form to my side. All while still keeping us connected in, you know, that vein.
“Fucking amazing,” he panted, trailing his fingers over my back as far down as the crack of my ass, or to the comforter covering said body part. “Christ, princess. It just gets better and better every time.”
I couldn’t disagree, though I wanted to, frankly needed to in order to dispel his words of the night before which still resounded within me. As well as my own involuntarily screamed ones. But if he wasn’t gonna bring it up then I sure as shit wasn’t gonna broach the subject.
Disconnecting, I slid to the edge of the bed to snag my robe off the chair. Since I’d found myself invariably naked by morning, I’d taken to sleeping in the buff and started keeping my housecoat or a large nightshirt nearby. And that morning, the damn early hours of the day after Rio told me he loved me, the covering seemed more important than ever. Because it helped me hide, to keep myself (both my insides and my outsides) under the wrap of normalcy. “Gonna shower,” I mumbled after tying the sash tight.
“I’ll put on the coffee,” he replied from behind me, sounding just the same as he did every other morning we’d awakened together. And at his regular words, said in a normal voice helped me relax a little. If we could just keep to our regular script for another hour or so, I’d be able to get through my day without freaking out.
I needed a day, just one, without a lot of drama or heavy emotions invading it. Needed to find my center again, recharge so I could face whatever was on the horizon for tomorrow. A day to examine if what I’d screamed in the throes of another Rio-induced orgasm was true.
And if they were, then what happened next?
Such were the thoughts that ran along the hamster wheel of my mind as I took my shower, gulped my coffee and ate breakfast with Rio and Zee. And stayed with me as I made my bed, started a load of laundry and took Pookie for a walk.
I just damn well got on with my life, a life that felt inexplicitly altered by the exchange of three little powerful words.
It wasn’t until later when I’d emailed Sierra a quote for her website, including some of yesterday’s photos of her, Daphne and the shop that I was able to push me and Rio to the side. To label the conundrum as ‘something to think about later’ when I wasn’t feeling so exposed and vulnerable. Giving me the space to work my mental ‘to do’ list for that day.
Such as…find affordable shoes to match my dress for Phoebe’s wedding. While Sierra’s place sold some of the most cutting edge and to-die-for footwear, her prices were too high for my budget. But I found some online that’d work in both style and affordability.
I also shot off a follow up email to Gray Sorenson, the owner of Outdoor Outfitters, another new business in town. I’d met with Gray at his store a couple of weeks before Rio came into my life and was slowly wearing him down about having an internet presence. Especially since he provided not only the equipment and necessary apparel for all sorts of outdoor activities, but even offered excursion trips. So I included a couple of examples of how to use his website to accept online reservations for those outings as well as equipment rentals.
I was just moving on to sort through yesterday’s pictures when my cellphone rang, the caller ID showing the call coming from an ‘A. Novak’. The name didn’t sound familiar but I answered anyway thinking it was probably someone I’d given my card to in the park. “Vonnie James.”
“Miss James,” the masculine voice responded. “City Councilman, Anton Novak here.”
There was something about him I didn’t like from the get-go. His manner of speaking was just a little too smooth, a little too cultured for my taste and I couldn’t help but think he’d taught himself to speak that way. “How can I help you, councilman?”
“Re-elections are set to begin and I have it on good authority you are the premier choice in Grantham of not only photography but website design as well.” He paused and I didn’t interject anything other than a mental ‘eww’ as he tried buttering me up in a typical public-figure fashion. “I was hoping you’d have time to meet and discuss the possibility of you working for me in that capacity.”
That’d be a big, ole ‘hell to the no’, but I didn’t say that. Instead I tried to use my professional words to get him off the phone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Novak. My schedule is filled at the moment. But I do have a couple of business acquaintances who might be available.”
“Now, now Miss James,” he cooed into his phone, making my skin crawl at how oily it sounded. “Surely you can make time to accommodate one of Grantham’s governing members. Just think of how much cachet your portfolio will have with my name listed as one of your customers.”
Bullshit. If anything, having my name linked with his would hurt, not help my business. Surely I wasn’t the only one in town that wasn’t chomping at the bit to cozy up to the sanctimonious bags of win
d who governed our fair city. The same council who couldn’t figure out how to straighten out and resolve our horrible traffic issues.
“Again, I’m sorry. But I have to decline.” There. I’d spelled it out in no uncertain terms and even added an insincere apology.
He didn’t say anything for a couple of beats and just about the time I hoped the call had been dropped, he spoke again. But this time in a voice I was sure was more real than the one he used previously. “Listen to me, you little ingrate. I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime, one to not only get in the good graces of the council, but to represent me. And my ambitions are much bigger than just Grantham.”
Who gives a rip, I thought on an eye roll. As for calling me an ingrate? Yeah, no. I’d been called worse by better people than him. “Be that as it may—”
“I did some research on you before calling, Miss James,” he cut in. “Extensive research that only a man of my means has the ability to obtain. Seems you work out of your home, yet I could find no record of any business licenses or permits allowing you to do so. And the maps indicate your condo is in a zone marked as residential only.”
What. The. Hell?
“As a presiding member of the governing body in Grantham, I have the power to overlook these…indiscretions and the hefty fines they incur. So it would be in your best interests to meet with me at your earliest opportunity.” He stopped and took a sniff that sounded suspiciously like derision. “And by that, I mean today.”
I couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how the first guffaw erupted out of my mouth. Nor the second and all the others crowding behind it. The ass-hat was threatening me just to get a few pictures and a website!
What a joke.
And I knew his threats were empty because I’d done my due diligence before I’d even registered myself as a business. I was totally in the clear regarding zoning laws and all the Colorado legislation regarding home-based businesses.
So I felt pretty damn safe in moving into smart-ass mode. “Do what you gotta do, dude. But I’m not working for you, will never work with you and definitely won’t vote for you in the next elections. Good-bye.”
I was still laughing when I clicked the ‘end’ button on my cellphone while wondering at the state of the world with men like Anton Novak at the helm.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Cloud,” Zee yelled, trying to gain the big man’s attention before he made it to Vonnie’s front door. “Hold up.”
Rio stopped at the glass doors that led to the inner courtyard of the condominium complex and turned to Zee. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to talk before you went inside.” Zee got closer and tried to get a bead on Rio’s mood, but like most ex-military folks, the man played his cards close to his chest giving nothing of his internal shit away. Scratching the back of his neck, Zee tried to remember the speech he’d worked to comprise all day but damn if he could recall a single word of it. “This ain’t right, brother. You’re paying me to do a job I was already primed to do. Think you need to rescind your offer or put me on another detail or something.”
Cloud took his hand off the handle of the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you saying you don’t want the job or you just don’t want to protect your sister?”
Fuck. He’d said it wrong, way wrong if the frown on Cloud’s face was any indication. “Neither.”
“Then what the frickin’ hell are you telling me?”
Zee swallowed and looked away to reach for the core of what he was attempting to communicate. “It’s the payment portion that sticks in my craw. Paying me to watch my sister is…just feels wrong somehow.”
Seeing Rio relax and his frown disappear let Zee know his message was received. “I get it. Though I don’t think you’re seeing it from my perspective. I’m not paying you to protect a family member, dude. I’m watching how you operate, how you function in the field. Kinda a paid interview, if you will. A trial period with pay.”
Oh well, now. That was a horse of a different color and set Zee’s mind at ease. “Never heard of something like that. How’m I doing so far?”
Rio let out a chuckle and again reached for the handle. “You’ll do.”
“Gee, thanks, boss-man.” Zee trailed behind and waited as Rio opened Vonnie’s door.
“Once this shit is resolved, I’ve got other jobs for you. So just stick with the plan of keeping her safe and out of harm’s way until the cops give the all clear, all right?”
Zee nodded, following the large ex-Ranger into the condo. “Roger that.” And then almost bumped into the man as he stopped just inside. Wondering what caused the action, Zee leaned to peer around Rio’s big body only to see Vonnie sitting on the couch with tears streaming down her face as she cuddled Mr. Buttons on one side and the mutt on the other.
“What’s going on, princess?” Rio’s voice was a soft croon as he rushed to her side. Zee waited where he was, not wanting to add to whatever drama was gonna play out. And since he’d been back in Grantham and reunited with her, it seemed like every day brought one drama after another.
Pointing to the papers on the coffee table, she took in a deep lungful of air. “I found them on the internet.” Her wet eyes moved to her brother. “Stuff about mom and dad.”
Leaving Cloud to settle her down, Zee stepped to the papers and began to read. And as he did, he understood her tears. The first was a report about the murders, written in detail as if taken from the police report, ending with the standard words asking the public for any information and asking them to call GPD.
The second was much smaller, only a few lines. As obituaries were meant to be—just a few sentences to encapsulate the whole of a person’s life, the years they’d spent on this Earth into one small column. The fact was though, it was written as one notice for both his mother and father.
And it listed Zee as the only surviving relative.
“At least it tells us where they’re buried,” Zee said after his second reading. Lifting his gaze from the pages, he saw Vonnie cuddled into Rio’s chest. A sight which was beginning to feel normal.
She nodded and sniffed. “I know, right?”
Zee didn’t know what to do, how to deal with all she was going through. He’d had years and years to work it all out in both his head and heart, to grieve for their parents. But Vonnie hadn’t. For her it was a new wound, fresh and still bleeding. “Can I get you anything, darlin’? Tea? A beer or maybe a shot?”
Swiping a hand underneath each eye, Vonnie shook her head. “I’ll get it. Sorry about the waterworks. It’s just…” she paused and looked away. “Hard. You know?”
Zee knew. God, he more than understood what she meant.
“I’ll get started on dinner if you do the drinks, babe,” Rio announced and Zee appreciated how the man took them all back into the normalness of everyday living. “Stay for dinner, Zee?”
“Glad to,” he answered after a quick glance at his sister, watching as she pulled herself together. “Anything I can do to help?”
And so it went, the pall of some words on paper disappearing, overshadowed by the doings of preparing a simple meal of spaghetti and salad together. Their voices overlapping as each of them spoke of what their day had held, lightly teasing one another or shooting off one-liners to incite a reaction.
It was a good time, a light-hearted space to soften the hard-felt portions of the last seventy-two hours.
“You actually told him you weren’t gonna vote for him? Seriously?” Rio’s expression, as he stirred a couple of the pots on the stove showed his incredulity. “Oh yeah, spitfire. You sure told him, now, didn’t cha?”
“Shut it, soldier boy,” she snapped back from her place on the barstool. “I figured it was the worst I could say and still get my message across without cussing. So, yeah. I told him. Told him off, but good.”
Zee looked up from the cutting board and the mangled mess of the tomato he was trying to slice with one of Vonnie’s dull knives. But a m
ovement in the living room caught his eye. “What’s up with the dog?”
Vonnie twisted to look behind her and gasped. “Pookie, no. No! Put that down. Mama says stop it!”
Rio turned from the stove, wielding a long spoon to watch the tableau happening in the other room. “Mama? When the hell did she become PK’s mama?”
“Do I get to call you ‘daddy’?” Zee teased before reaching for his beer.
Rio’s glare was as quick as his rejoinder. “Do it and die, motherfucker.”
The two men watched as Vonnie got down on the floor and tried to pry Mr. Buttons from the mutt’s mouth. “C’mon, pretty girl. Give mama the toy. It’s mama’s toy, not yours. Where’s Mr. Monkey? Let’s find Mr. Monkey, okay? All right? Where’s Mr. Monkey?”
“Does she always talk to your dog like that?”
“Believe me, it’s a habit I’m trying to break,” Rio grumped, setting the spoon aside and reaching for the dishtowel tucked into his jeans. Moving to a pink blanket edged in black ribbon on the floor next to the door, Rio fussed with it until he pulled out a brown sock-looking thing. “Found it.”
“Look, pretty girl. Look what Daddy found,” Vonnie announced in that same, sing-song way. “That’s it. Drop the bunny and go get Mr. Monkey.”
All in all, the situation was pretty damn funny to Zee’s mind. Watching his sister and her boyfriend trying to entice the fluffy, little canine to shift from one toy to another with cajoling words and come-hither gestures, without much success, was a fucking hoot.
That was until Rio shot him a glare that carried a warning about his laughter.
But the stuffed rabbit was the one who bore the brunt of most of it, one leg opening with a rip, its stuffing spilling out of the hole the dog’s teeth made. This was surprisingly accompanied by the ‘clink’ of something metal hitting the hardwood floor. A sound that occurred only seconds before the mutt turned its attention to the monkey.
Vonnie scooped whatever it was into one hand as she picked up the damaged Mr. Buttons with the other.
Vonnie: Book Two of Broken Girls Series Page 24