Bend: A Dark Mafia Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I was glad she was taking point on this parents thing. I would have done it, but now I was fucking distracted by thoughts of fucking her up against the kitchen counter.

  I wanted to hear her beg for it, hear her say my name again.

  Good thing Travis was coming soon. If I couldn’t stop thinking about my cock slipping deep into Tara’s wet cunt, I was afraid I’d make some stupid mistake.

  The girl was under my skin, and I fucking liked it.

  Chapter 11

  Tara

  My stomach was a pit of nervous buzzing as my parents walked into the kitchen. If they were surprised, they didn’t show it as Dad shook hands with Emory.

  “Good to meet you, son,” Dad said.

  “Likewise, Roger.”

  Dad squeezed Emory’s hand and inwardly I cringed. He was giving Emory his best intimidating look, which wasn’t very intimidating. Emory was a good three inches taller, and although he weighed less, Dad’s weight was fat whereas Emory’s weight was muscle.

  “I hope you’ll be sticking around for a while,” Dad said.

  “I will be, sir.”

  I smiled. Dad would like that military “sir” stuff.

  “Very good.”

  “Actually, guys,” I said quickly, “we need to talk.”

  “Is everything okay?” Mom asked me.

  Dad let go of Emory’s hand and took a seat at the table.

  “Mom, why don’t you sit with Dad.”

  She frowned. “Are you two getting married?”

  Emory laughed. I shot him a look and he grinned back, keeping himself under control.

  “No, we’re not getting married,” I said.

  “Why not? You have a baby together,” Dad added.

  I wanted to absolutely strangle him.

  “Guys, please listen. Mom, sit.”

  She sat down next to Dad.

  “Really, honey, if you two want to get married, we’d be very happy.”

  I clenched my jaw. “We’re not getting married. Will you just listen?”

  “You’d marry our daughter, right, Emory?” Dad asked him.

  I almost strangled him right then and there.

  “Dad!”

  “What? I’m just asking.”

  Emory could barely contain his laughter.

  “Listen to me, guys,” I said. “This is serious.” I glanced at Emory, and he got himself under control, giving me his best serious face.

  “Go ahead, sweetheart,” Mom said.

  “Look, I’m in trouble. We all might be in trouble actually.”

  “What happened?” Dad asked.

  I glanced at Emory. “What can I tell them?”

  “Everything you know, they can know,” he said.

  I looked back at them. “You’ll find this hard to believe, but please, just listen with an open mind. And keep in mind that Emory didn’t want any of this to happen.”

  And so I told them. I started with how we met in India, which they mostly knew already. I left out the amazing sex, of course, since the baby pretty much implied that had happened, but I told them Emory was a SEAL doing anti-terrorism in Pakistan and about how the terrorists had been watching me ever since the resort.

  I told them about The Network, about the pictures, everything. I even told them about feeling like I was being watched in the park, which I only told part of to Emory. Through the whole thing, Emory stood there and let me speak, never once correcting me or contradicting me.

  By the end, my parents were staring at me with openly disbelieving looks.

  “And that’s it,” I said. “We got another photograph this morning. Emory thinks we’re all in serious danger.”

  They were silent for a second as I stopped talking. Finally, Dad began to chuckle.

  “Roger,” Mom said, “knock it off.”

  “What? It’s a crazy story; I’ll give him that.” Dad looked at Emory. “How’d you get her to believe in all this?” he asked.

  “It’s the truth, sir,” he said.

  “You expect me to believe that terrorists are after my daughter because you’re some elite Navy SEAL?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said.

  “I saw the pictures, Dad. The man I described matched the man Emory told me about.”

  “Pictures can be faked. Descriptions can be made up.”

  “Roger,” Mom said again.

  “I’m just saying,” he went on, “we don’t know this man. He could be some crazy person for all we know.”

  “Explain how he was impossible to find,” I said. “Explain how he just shows up here out of the blue.”

  “Fake name and Google.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. I knew Dad wouldn’t believe it, but I didn’t think he’d be so aggressive in arguing it.

  “What about you, Mom? Think I’m just an idiot getting fooled by a con man?”

  “No,” she said softly, “I don’t.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Emory said.

  “Sorry, son,” Dad added, “but I just don’t buy any of this. If it were true, why not call the police?”

  Emory looked at me and I sighed, nodding to him.

  “The Network is extremely dangerous, sir. If word got out that they were operating on American soil, there would be a panic. I can promise you that. My commanding officer ordered me to keep this under wraps, and so I’m tasked with handling this myself.”

  “Convenient,” Dad said. “Who is this commanding office of yours?”

  “Colonel Blackfire,” Emory said. Then he grinned. “And I’m aware that sounds like a fake name, but believe me, this is very real.”

  “Okay then. Let’s say for a second that you’re not lying. What are we supposed to do with this information?” Dad asked.

  “Nothing,” Emory said. “You just need to sit tight. We’re telling you only in case something actually happens. I have members of my team coming to help out with this situation, and they’ll be able to keep you two safe while I watch over your daughter.”

  “Convenient,” Dad muttered.

  I shook my head and felt my anger starting to rise. I couldn’t blame him for being skeptical, but I could blame him for not believing his daughter.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what I knew. I trusted Emory completely, and although this was an incredibly strange and insane situation, I knew it was very real.

  “Listen, Dad,” I said, surprised by my own angry tone. “I get that you don’t believe it, and frankly I don’t blame you. But your daughter is telling you that this is real, so you better start playing along.”

  Everyone stared at me for a second.

  “What?” I asked finally.

  Emory just grinned at me.

  “Okay,” Dad said. “Okay, honey. I don’t believe a word of this, but if you need us to just keep doing what we normally do, well, I can handle that.”

  Dad stood up from the kitchen table.

  “One more thing,” Emory broke in. “I’d like Tara to stay with me tonight at my hotel.”

  Dad raised an eyebrow. “Do you now? Of course you do.”

  “Your home isn’t secure, sir. I don’t believe The Network is after you or your wife, but they are after Tara and my son.”

  “And so dragging my daughter off to your hotel room is supposed to keep her safe? You sound like a lunatic.”

  “Enough,” Mom said loudly. “Roger, enough. Tara, if you want to go stay with Emory, you can do what you want. You’re an adult. And, Roger,” Mom said, speaking loudly so that he couldn’t interrupt her, “if you say one more thing, I swear I won’t cook your food for a month. You’ll starve to death and we both know it.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, took a deep breath, and then stopped himself. He sighed, sounding defeated. “Well, you’re an adult, like your mother says,” he said and then walked out of the room.

  I glanced at Emory but couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was somewhere between awe and pity, and it made a thrill jump down my spine.


  “Thanks, Mom,” I said.

  “I can’t say I exactly believe you either,” she said to Emory, “but I do trust my daughter. Now, did you two eat?”

  I’d never felt more proud of my mother than in that moment. She wasn’t a weak woman or anything like that, but I loved that she was willing to stand up for me even when it seemed like I was going insane.

  And frankly, I just needed someone to believe me. I needed someone to trust that I wasn’t going crazy, because I’d been feeling pretty crazy the last day or two. But if my mother could believe Emory, or at least believe in me, then I could keep moving forward.

  Moving forward right to Emory’s hotel room.

  “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” I said.

  “Because you know it’s the right move,” he said. “Or at least you trust me enough to do it anyway.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Though I would use ‘trust’ loosely here.”

  “Maybe you just want to get inside my bedroom again,” he said. “Maybe you’ll take any excuse to get close to me, to let me undress you slowly, let me press my fingers against that nice, wet clit.”

  “Maybe not,” I grumbled.

  We were standing in the elevator of his hotel, and I had to admit that I was surprised by how nice it was. Apparently, Dayton had a single decent hotel in the area, though I had always assumed it was full of motels and motor lodges.

  I was carrying Mason in his little car seat, while Emory carried my bag plus everything we’d need for Mason. He definitely had the heavier load, but he didn’t seem to mind it at all, whereas I was struggling just to keep Mason aloft.

  “Want me to take him?” Emory asked as the doors opened and I stepped out into the hall.

  “I’ve got it,” I grumbled at him.

  He just grinned at me as he walked past, and we headed down toward the end of the hall.

  It was a big double door we stopped outside of. There was no number, just the word “SUITE” engraved on a plaque next to the key card reader. Emory swiped a card through it and opened the door.

  I stepped inside and took a sharp breath.

  The room was huge. It was like the whole downstairs of my parents’ house, plus another room, probably the bedroom. There was a couch, some chairs, a table, a little kitchen area, a big screen TV, and a little desk. Everything was richly furnished in brown and gold, with a leaf and vine motif running around the top edges of the walls.

  “Holy crap,” I said, setting Mason down. “Are you serious?”

  “Very serious.” Emory placed the bags down on the couch and shut the door, locking it and sliding the chain down along the catch.

  “This is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever seen.”

  “Working for Uncle Sam has its perks sometimes.”

  “The government is paying for this?”

  “Not officially,” he said, grinning. “But yeah, they are, in a way.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It would bore you to tears if I explained.” He walked over to a little bar that was built into the desk. “Drink?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said.

  I checked my watch. It was pretty late, definitely well past Mason’s bedtime. I needed to get him down soon or else he was going to be very cranky the next day.

  I hated leaving my parents. Emory had wanted to get out of the house immediately, but I’d refused, not until his team member or partner or whatever showed up. We had to wait hours, but finally I saw a black van parked across the street, which Emory assured me was his guy Travis.

  I didn’t get to meet Travis, because Emory hustled us out of there instantly. I felt better knowing that someone was watching over my parents, though, and it was definitely worth waiting.

  “I have to get him down,” I said to Emory.

  “Okay,” he answered. “Bedroom is back there. You can stay in there. Need any help?”

  “I’ve got it.” I grabbed the bag and carried Mason back into the bedroom.

  And of course, the bedroom was nice as hell. There was a huge bathroom attached to it with a standing shower and a big Jacuzzi tub.

  “Thanks, Obama,” I mumbled as I set up Mason’s little travel crib. Once that was done, I gently picked him up from the car seat, careful not to fuss him around too much, and gently placed him inside the crib.

  He was sleepy already, which was a blessing. Normally he would be upset about being somewhere new, but he was too tired to fight it.

  I watched as the little guy slowly drifted off to sleep before setting up the baby monitor and walking back into the other room.

  Emory was sitting on the couch, his legs kicked out on the coffee table, sipping something brown from a tumbler.

  “What are you drinking?” I asked.

  “Whisky. Grab yourself something.”

  I walked over and poured filled it with ice and tonic water. I came back and sat down on the other end of the couch, curling my legs underneath myself.

  “Mason asleep?”

  “Yeah, fortunately. He went down easy.”

  “He seems like a good baby.”

  “He can be pretty easy, but he has his moments.”

  Emory cocked his head. “Most babies do I’m guessing.”

  “Don’t have much experience with infants?”

  “If I’m honest, Mason is the first baby I’ve ever held. I’m not exactly around infants in my line of work.”

  “Still. Cousins, sister, nobody in your family had a baby?”

  “I don’t have much of a family. My team is my family now.”

  “Huh. I feel like I’ve always been around babies.”

  “Got a big family?”

  “Big enough. Some cousins. No siblings though.”

  “One more thing we got in common.”

  “I don’t know if we really have much in common, Emory.”

  “Oh, I disagree with that. We’re both Midwesterners, and we both want each other.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Okay then. But I’m not lying when I say you’re soaking wet right now. I bet you can’t stop thinking about how we’re alone, very, very alone.”

  He was absolutely right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. We were very alone, and that thought excited me. I didn’t want it to, but I knew with Mason sleeping we could be doing absolutely anything.

  Like maybe letting his lips and tongue work my pussy again.

  I shook my head. “Not even close. Maybe my dad was right.”

  He laughed. “You think I’m just a crazy person.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “For your sake, I wish I were. That’d be easier than the truth.”

  I frowned. “So this is your life? You go around killing terrorists?”

  “When I’m not meeting beautiful women in exotic places, yeah, pretty fucking much.”

  “Meet a lot of beautiful women?” I regretted that question as soon as I said it.

  “Jealous, princess?” he asked, grinning that asshole grin.

  “Not at all. I was just curious.”

  “Right. Just curious.” He finished his drink and moved closer to me. I sipped mine tentatively. “What else are you curious about?”

  “Why me?” I blurted out.

  He raised an eyebrow and studied me for a minute. “You want to know why I chose you that night?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “Of all the women there, why me?”

  “Easy. You might not realize it, but you stood out like a fucking lightning bolt in that crowd.”

  “I wasn’t the prettiest girl there.”

  “I think you were.”

  “You’re just saying that to get in my pants again.”

  “So what? It’s clearly working.” He moved closer again. “It was that body and the way you looked at me, like you wanted to suck my cock right there in the club. Hungry, fucking starving for sex. I haven’t seen that look before or since, but I see it every time you stare at me like that.”

 
I quickly looked away. “I should tell you something,” I said.

  He moved even closer. I could feel his body near mine and my heart began to hammer in my chest. I should have gotten up, walked across the room, put some space between us.

  But I really didn’t want to. I wanted to stay right there and feel his thigh against mine, his muscular body, his delicious, cocky smile.

  “What?” he asked, mostly a whisper.

  “I was a virgin. The night you met me.”

  He paused, clearly surprised, but the look passed as fast as it had happened.

  “You didn’t fuck like a virgin,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. “That pussy fucked like it was built for my cock.”

  “Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” I said, and blushed.

  “Maybe.” He took my chin and tipped it up toward him. My lips parted almost on their own. “Maybe you were just desperate to learn.”

  “I don’t know. I had chances before.”

  “But that night was special.”

  “Something about it.”

  “You couldn’t resist me if you wanted to. You’re dripping wet wondering when I’m going to kiss you.”

  I couldn’t say a word.

  He pressed his lips against mine, and I didn’t pull away.

  A rush of excitement and pleasure ran through my body, flushing my cheeks, soaking my pussy, lighting my body on fire. His hands laced through my hair and pulled me tightly against him as he kissed me, his mouth working mine, our tongues touching.

  I couldn’t help but moan softly into his kiss. I hadn’t been touched like that since he’d kissed me the last time, all those nights before, and I’d definitely never been touched like that before him. Emory’s mouth worked mine, and I shifted my weight, sliding my leg over him, straddling him.

  He pulled me tight, kissing me, hand tight in my hair. I couldn’t believe I’d just climbed on top of him like that, but I was so far past thinking clearly. The second he moved close to me on that couch, I knew I was done for. I knew I was going to give myself to him, no matter what I thought was the right thing to do.

  So I kissed him, moaning softly, excitement rushing through my mind, tipping me over the edge.