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Dangerous Desires

Page 54

by Tia Siren


  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She pushed under his arm and came to stand facing him, searching his eyes. Cupping his face, she kissed him tenderly. “Are you still thinking about her?” she whispered.

  “Not at all,” he lied.

  “Liar,” she chortled, pressing her lips to his. If it were the last thing she did, she’d make him forget that woman.

  Julian growled in his throat as their tongues met. She broke the kiss and took his hand. Much the way he’d taken her hand on their first date and led her back to his car, she took his hand now and led him back to the house overlooking the lake.

  Once inside, she pushed off his jacket and tore his shirt open. Julian pulled her close and lifted her, taking her to the bedroom. Once inside, he laid her on the bed. Colleen rid herself of her garments while Julian finished undressing.

  Their bodies came together, their hot skins caressing each other. Colleen explored the contours of his muscles as he adored her silky skin. Taking her bottom lip, Julian sucked and nibbled, while his hand found a taut peak. She moaned at the contact of his hand on her skin. His large hands and strong fingers gave her much pleasure, but she wanted more.

  As if sensing her wish, Julian ran his other hand along her belly, which trembled at his touch. Finding its way down, he reached between her thighs and pried them apart. When the tip of his finger brushed her clit, she jumped.

  Moaning loudly, she arched into his hand, wanting to feel more of him. She was moist and warm as he slowly circled her clit with his finger. When Julian eased himself up, she thought he was going to enter her, but not so. He bent, lifting her hips and burying his face in her pelvis. Inhaling deeply, he grunted before reaching out his tongue and licking in the inside of her thigh.

  “Oh, God!” Colleen cried out. The anticipation of it all was driving her crazy. She thought she could not get any more aroused until he parted her labia and brushed his tongue across her opening. She almost sprang from the bed at the sheer pleasure that coursed through her. She could not help moving her hips as his tongue sank into her flesh. The in and out movement of his tongue almost brought her to an orgasm, and just when she felt her insides about to give way, he raised himself and laid atop her.

  Soon, he drove his hard thickness into her waiting abyss. Their bodies began moving to a timely beat as waves of pleasure assailed them both.

  Julian’s cock pulsed with each thrust. Her warm blanket wrapped him in a tight sheath. Their bodies danced to the music of passion as his cock slid in and out of her slippery vagina.

  He found her mouth again, and their tongues entwined in an ardent embrace. Like wildfires, heat coursed through their bodies. Their breathing labored, sheets of moisture glistened on their skin. Colleen’s sighs and Julian’s grunts mingled together to create their own lyrics.

  Julian felt himself on the brink, and he reached between them to rub his finger across Colleen’s clit. This sent a shock through her body that exploded in her belly. She arched and buried her face in the pillow, letting out a loud scream.

  Pumping harder, sweat now running down his face, Julian let himself feel the implosion. His balls tingled, and his cock stiffened to the breaking point. A loud guttural sound emitted from him, filling the room.

  In short rapid movements, he continued his release, feeling the walls of Colleen’s vagina tighten around him as she clung to him, sealing their lips as their rapture completed. He continued slow, gentle movements for a few seconds before his arms trembled, and he collapsed atop her.

  Julian wondered if he was about to fall in love with Colleen. He was extremely attracted to her, and the chemistry was strong. Maybe with time, he could love her, but for now, he was content.

  Colleen smiled as she thought that Julian had fallen in love with her. That was good, and maybe the next step would be an engagement and then marriage. She knew it was too soon for any of that, but there was no harm in dreaming.

  THE END

  The Kingpin’s Lady

  Rye Hart

  1

  Kendra

  I’m home. My safe place. My sanctuary.

  That’s the lie I told myself to keep from going mental. After I’d involuntarily become involved with the damn Morettis, they’d single-handedly yanked the ground from below my feet, and left me desperately struggling for any form of certainty.

  What’s more, the man I feared most was out there, lurking in the shadows. He was there watching me—not even bothering to be discreet. Nope. His car was there in plain sight—parked outside my house, and he couldn't care less. He didn’t give two shits, because he knew he was unstoppable in the eyes of the law.

  The bastard was nothing but pretentious, and now he wanted me dead.

  But first, he wanted me afraid.

  And fuck, it was working.

  With the lights off in my house, I peeked out through the blinds in my living room, keeping an eye on his car as I called my best friend, Lisa. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hey, girl,” she said, her voice as chipper as ever. “What's going on?”

  It was an innocent question from the closest of friends—but I couldn't tell her the truth. I wouldn’t put her life in danger. I just needed to hear a friendly, familiar voice. She was a breath of fresh air.

  “Not much,” I said, trying to sound normal. “Just thought I'd call and see what you’re up to.”

  “Not a whole lot,” Lisa said. “The usual. Netflix and wine before heading to bed. Got to be up early tomorrow morning for work. How about you? How are you holding up since … well, you know.”

  Since losing my job and being afraid for my life ever since? I thought.

  Of course, I told Lisa that I'd lost my job as a paralegal with Morrison and Schmidt, Attorneys at Law, but she didn't know the specifics. To avoid answering questions I didn't want to answer, I just told her I'd been laid off. In other words, I lied to her. Being laid off was just about the furthest thing from the truth.

  The firm was actually doing very well, growing at a rapid pace thanks to their latest courtroom victory. And the person on the losing end of that case just so happened to be sitting outside my house—scaring the crap out of me.

  “I'm good,” I lied. Before Lisa could call me out on my bull, I quickly asked her the question I really called about. “So, would you like some company tonight? I can bring more wine—”

  “You want to come over now?” Lisa laughed. “Girl, it's late. I'm already in my pajamas and am headed to bed soon. Some of us have to go to work tomorrow—”

  She stopped herself just as the words came tumbling out. I knew she didn't mean it like that, but the heat flared in my cheeks.

  “Fuck, I'm sorry, Kendra,” she said. “I didn't mean anything by it.”

  “I know,” I said softly.

  The job was actually the least of my concerns in that moment. The apparent murderer outside my house seemed to be a more pressing concern—all things considered.

  “I don't mind if we just go to sleep,” I said, actually hoping she could hear the nervousness in my voice. “I just don't want to be alone tonight, you know?”

  Lisa was quiet for a moment, and then asked the question I knew she'd eventually ask. The question I didn't want to answer.

  “What's wrong, Kendra?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” I said, peeking out through the blinds again.

  The car hadn't moved. It was still in the exact same spot. I couldn't see in the windows because they were tinted and it was dark, but I knew Marco was behind the wheel. He was just sitting there. Watching me. Waiting. But for what? I didn’t want to wait and find out.

  “I just thought it might be good for me to get out of the house,” I said, uttering the first lame excuse that popped into my head. Of course, that was a HUGE understatement.

  “You want to spend the night here?” she asked.

  “Kind of,” I muttered, feeling ashamed for not telling her the truth. Bu
t the less she knew, the safer she'd be. I knew Lisa would want to take immediate action to ensure my safety, like calling the cops and making me file a report—but it would only draw unwanted attention to her. Calling the cops wouldn't do a damn thing—other than piss him off even more.

  “If it's too much trouble, I understand.”

  Lisa cut me off. “You're never any trouble, Kendra. I'm just worried about you. Something is going on and you're not telling me what it is,” she said. “But you're always welcome to crash at my place, no matter what. And no matter what time it is. I hope you know that.”

  “Thanks, Lisa,” I said softly. “I really appreciate that.”

  Marco Moretti, like the rest of his family, was above the law. Even if they caught him sitting in his car with a loaded gun in his lap, he'd never see the inside of a jail cell. The cops probably wouldn't even come out there if they knew it was him in the car. He was allowed to walk through my city, doing whatever he pleased, and no one did a damn thing about it.

  But now that he was terrorizing me, it was personal. It hit way too close to home for my liking. I didn't have a plan just yet—it had all happened so fast. But soon, I was going to have to get myself to safety. And at least for the night, that meant carefully sneaking out of my own home and staying with Lisa. But in the coming days, I planned on leaving Chicago altogether. Maybe even the country. I had to go where no one could find me. I’d be leaving my family and friends behind, but it was the only way to keep them safe.

  It was the only way to keep me safe.

  I felt like a coward because I had to run. For that, among other reasons, I hated the man lurking outside my house.

  I wished I could get away with murder.

  Somehow if I had that Moretti immunity—I could get my life back. But that was impossible.

  There would always be more Morettis—and I knew very well they didn't take too kindly to one of their own being taken out. What other choice did I have but to run?

  Once I got off the phone, I pulled my eyes away from the car outside my house long enough to throw some clothes in a bag. I tossed the basic necessities and a few mementos in there as well—photographs of Lisa and me on our booze cruise to Mexico last year, pictures of my family looking happy and blessed—memories of better times.

  Keepsakes of a time before I got involved with Morrison and Schmidt. Before I even knew who the Morettis were. An innocent and happy time of my life.

  God, what I wouldn't give to go back to that time.

  And if I knew then what I know now, I would never have taken the job—no matter how it seemed for my career. Too late for that now. What was done was done and there was nothing I could do about it.

  With my bag packed, I glanced out front one more time. Still there.

  Of course he was. He wasn't going anywhere until I was dead. I was more than certain of that. I knew too much and was a loose end the Moretti family couldn't afford to have running around.

  So why hasn’t he taken me out yet? Screw that—I’m not waiting to find out.

  My car was parked out front, so I knew I couldn't take it. Not without Marco seeing me leave. So, I did the only thing I could and snuck out the back door.

  Quietly, I walked through my backyard and toward the street behind my house. There was a bus stop and the next bus would take me to Lisa's house. I'd used it to get home a few times in the past, after partying in the city.

  Not wanting to turn on any lights, I was left hardly able to see. I didn't want to risk being seen by Marco. I had to walk fast and carefully around my patio furniture. My heart raced as I fought the urge to run. But I knew if I gave into the impulse, I'd probably fall over something and alert the neighbor's dog.

  Slow, steady, and quiet. You can do this.

  I made it to the back gate and very carefully opened it, gritting my teeth and holding my breath as the hinges squeaked loudly. I stepped out and quietly shut it behind me, still trying to be as stealthy as possible as I entered the back alley. I pulled my hoodie up around my head and took off, heading for the street as quickly as I could. The bus stop was at the very end of the road, well lit and often crowded. My plan was to simply blend in as best I could.

  My heart was still beating hard and fast, and the cold night air stung my cheeks as I hurried along. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision and making it hard to see. I was almost there. Almost away from Marco. Almost to the bus stop.

  I reached the end of the alley and turned left, slowing my pace to not look suspicious or out of place. I kept my eyes down, but every person that walked by made me nearly jump out of my skin. Feeling more than a little paranoid, I was afraid they worked for Marco and might recognize me. The streetlights provided the only light, and it wasn't enough to make me feel safe. It still felt too dark and ominous for my liking—even though I knew I needed the dark to conceal myself from the dangers lurking in my neighborhood.

  The bus stop was just up ahead a little farther and I could see several people already waiting beneath the shelter. It was a beacon of light and hope for me. I was going to make it. I lowered my head and quickened my pace, hoping that once I got on the bus, my pulse would finally slow down a bit. Once I knew no one was following me, I could relax. At least for a while.

  Footsteps on the pavement behind me sent a cold chill through my veins and although I tried to resist, I couldn't stop myself from giving into the urge and glancing over my shoulder. At first, I didn't see anyone, and I told myself I was just paranoid. Or if there was someone behind me, it was just someone else walking to the bus stop. But then, as I quickened my pace, I heard them pick up as well.

  Just one more block, Kendra, I told myself. Run bitch run.

  That's when I heard the person behind me speak out, and what he said chilled me to the very bone. “Kendra,” the voice called to me. “We need to talk.”

  That voice made my stomach roil, and want to vomit out of fear, and caused me to stop in place. I panicked. I froze even though my brain was screaming at me to run. Run for safety. Get to where there were other people.

  He can’t kill me in public and get away with it—right?

  I took another step, finally breaking the spell that was holding me rooted to that spot, but then I felt a hand fall upon my shoulder. He held onto to me with a grip that felt like a steel vise and made me turn around to face him. Reluctantly, I turned my head toward him and met his gaze. His eyes were so dark, they reminded me of the night sky. In fact, everything about him was dark—from his black hair down to his black suit and even his black shoes.

  He blended into the night like a shadow.

  “How did you find –” I started to ask, but realized it was futile.

  “Kendra, Kendra. Did you really think I would just sit in my car? I know you better than that. It’s obvious you’d try to escape,” he said. “It was only a matter of time, sweetheart.”

  As he looked at me, his lips pulled back into a smile. A devilishly handsome smile. A smile of someone you'd trust if you didn't know the real things he was capable of.

  “So, you just wanted to scare the crap out of me enough to make me sneak out?” I asked.

  Suddenly, I was angry. It had all been a ruse. The car was just there to trick me. He pulled one over on me—and it worked. I was there, and he had me. I was suddenly as pissed at myself as I was terrified of him.

  He'd tricked me, and now I was his prisoner. There was nowhere left to run. We both knew I wouldn't get very far. I could call out to the people at the bus stop, but knew that they would simply pretend they didn't hear me. No one wanted to get involved to help a stranger at this time of night.

  “I'm not going to hurt you,” Marco said. “I want to talk.”

  Yeah, of course you do, I thought to myself. Because that's what mobsters and murderers did to people who knew too much—talk.

  2

  Marco

  “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  She looked at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “
What? What are you talking about?”

  I shrugged. “Just thought you might be hungry.”

  “Where are you taking me?” Kendra asked, shooting me a sideways glance as I had my arm around her curvy waist, guiding her along the street.

  “Somewhere public,” I said. “So you can feel more comfortable talking to me. And maybe you'll realize I'm not going to kill you.”

  “I'll never be comfortable talking to you,” she said. “And I'll never be convinced that you're not going to kill me.”

  I knew she was scared and wasn't quite thinking rationally—I couldn’t really blame her for her current state of mind.

  I smiled and asked, “Do you like sushi?”

  She just stared at me, blinking, as if she didn't understand what I'd just asked—as if I were speaking a foreign language or had suddenly sprouted a second head. So, I asked her again.

  “Kendra, do you like sushi? I asked. “Or would you prefer something else?”

  “Something else?”

  “To eat,” I said, speaking slower, doing my best to avoid sounding like a condescending ass. “I'm starving and I know of this great little sushi place in your neighborhood. Ate there last week for the first time and—”

  “Koi Sushi, you mean?”

  “Yes, that's it. Koi. Have you been there?”

  She continued staring at me as if she'd seen a ghost, but then she nodded slowly, the expression on her face one of uncertainty, still bordering on fright.

  “I have. A few times, actually,” she said. “Because, as you apparently know, it's just down the street from my house.”

  “Perfect,” I said, leading her in the direction of the restaurant.

  “My friend is expecting me,” she said. “If I don't show up, she's going to worry. Might even call the police.”

 

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