Don't Judge a Book

by Suzanne Steele

  “I’m convinced this was a hit and not a carjacking.” Kirk reached for Angelica’s hand and sincerity flowed from his emerald green eyes as he spoke, “I’m only trying to protect you, Angelica.”

  They both looked up to see Bill’s lawyer standing in the doorway. “Well as commendable and endearing as it is that you want to play the hero, you have no right to be talking to my client when she isn’t in the presence of her attorney.”

  Kirk leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his neck. “She came of her own free will.”

  “She was clouded by her emotions for her husband and you are trying to prey on that.”

  “Allegedly,” Kirk smirked.

  “Come on Angelica, I don’t have time to play games.

  “Please let him go,” she pleaded as her attorney escorted her to the elevator.

  Damn it, I was getting somewhere with her before he walked in. Kirk couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction when she pleaded for him to let Bill go. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have her in his bedroom pleading for mercy like that…

  I could sense the skepticism in Mr. Huffington when he cocked his head to the side eyeing me as he spoke.

  “You lied to me. If you want me to do my best on this case, you have to be able to trust me.”

  “What was I supposed to say, ‘That the cop who threw my husband in jail has the hot’s for me’? That just sounds wrong on so many levels.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a man has become intrigued with a beautiful woman.”

  I shuffled my feet and chewed at my bottom lip due to awkwardness. What was I supposed to say to that comment?

  “Well I’m headed to the office to do some fact finding of my own,” I stated, changing the subject.

  Mr. Huffington eyed me much as a father might his wayward daughter and chuckled, “I can see how Bill became enraptured with you.”

  He turned and made his way down the sidewalk and looked back over his shoulder as he spoke, “Call me if you get into trouble or need anything.”

  I just shook my head, staying out of trouble seemed to be a luxury I wasn’t privy to.

  I answered e-mails as I made my way into the office seated in the back seat. Times like this I was happy I had a driver. I could just see myself plowing into someone’s rear bumper because my stressful mind wandered. If I was going to find anything out, I was going to have to do what I always did when I needed information, research and snoop.

  I made my way into the building and felt people’s stares with each click-clack of my heels on the hard surface. I had learned a long time ago to walk with my head held high in the midst of a scandal and this situation proved no different.

  Mrs. Taylor followed behind me wringing her hands, as was her practice to do whenever she became stressed out.

  “Oh, Mrs. Covington, I’m so sorry to hear about your husband.”

  Damn, did everybody know that we had gotten married?

  She must have seen the shock on my face, because she immediately asked if I had seen the morning newspaper.

  I just shook my head no. I could feel this day wasn’t going to get any better.

  “Just go and get it for me, please.”

  She scurried away and quickly laid it on my desk.

  “Mrs. Taylor, please insure that I am not unnecessarily bothered—that includes the media or any of our competition. I need time to sort some things out. I don’t want my husband sitting in jail for any longer than he has to.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she stated then turned and left all the while she still wrung her hands.

  Why does the way that she wrings her hands get on my nerves so badly?

  I looked down and began to read the glaring article plastered on the front page.

  Local Celebrity Couple Secretly Weds.

  Could Bill Covington have foreseen he would be incarcerated for the murder of his brother? This was the speculation when the couple ran off to elope in Las Vegas last weekend.

  Being married will secure that Angelica Covington cannot be subpoenaed to testify against her husband. Did they or didn’t they? Enquiring minds want to know.

  I actually breathed a sigh of relief—the article wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I made my way over to Bill’s desk and turned on his computer. A sinking feeling in my gut came over me when it asked for a password. I took a moment to put myself in Bill’s shoes, what would he use as a password?

  I chuckled as I typed in ‘DeliveryBoy’ and was shocked when it worked. Nothing but pure speculation had gotten me in and I was curious about not only his business, but finding out how long and to what extent that my husband had been stalking me.

  I found the folder on me and e-mailed it to myself. I would dig into that later as a form of debauched entertainment. Right now I needed to work on finding out what I could to get my husband out of jail. On a whim I found a memory stick and downloaded anything that I thought might come in handy in the future. If I had learned anything in my life it was that life could throw you a curveball. This disk might prove itself useful at a later date. I was a firm believer in insurance and my husband wasn’t exempt from my attitude of covering my ass. If he ever did put me in a precarious situation, it would be a form of insurance. I learned long ago to never trust anyone fully and completely. People change and people most certainly fall in and out of love. As much as I was telling myself it was insurance—I was curious to know just how much my husband knew about me.

  In my sometimes warped way of thinking, if he had been stalking me, it was a form of love. Bill Covington didn’t have time to waste chasing women, if he had gone to the trouble of digging up all of the information he could on me—then it meant he was smitten from the beginning. Whether we want to admit it or not, we as women always want to feel a man is so obsessed with us—no other woman would possibly do.

  I sat outside of a café having lunch with Bill’s mother. In the craziness of everything going on I hadn’t even thought about calling her. There wasn’t just the issue that her son was in jail, there was also the issue of the quick nuptials; no mother wants to be left out of her son’s wedding.

  Her hand covered mine as she lovingly looked me in the eye and spoke, “Dear, the last thing I’m worried about is my son. He has more connections than you could ever imagine, I can just about guarantee you he will be out by tonight. That man has been taking care of me for as long as I can remember; even as a child. For some reason he took what his father did on himself and vowed he would see me have a better life.”

  “As far as you feeling bad about no ceremonial wedding, and me not being involved, I can assure you there will be a wedding, and that it will be an over the top event that I will more than be involved in, that is just the world according to Bill.”

  “If I know anything—I know my son, and he knew they were going to try and pin Riley’s murder on him. I’m certain he loves you and didn’t want to subject you to having to testify against him if things went that far. Though I seriously doubt they will.”

  Everything in me wanted to ask her if she thought he did it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. This was one time I couldn’t allow my curiosity to win out. I knew the only reason I was tempted to ask her was because what she had stated was true—a mother knows their child. And if anyone knew Bill Covington, it was her.

  Bill sat on his bunk talking to Talon in a low voice, so as not to be heard.

  “Listen to me,” he stated, as he handed him a folded up piece of paper. “Anyone who is a friend of Miller’s is a friend of mine, and you saved my life,” he patted him on the shoulder. “Make a commissary list of the things that you want and need and I’ll make sure that the money is deposited weekly. If you ever need anything, you let me know.”

  Talon eyed him with skepticism as he spoke, “I know everybody says this, but I didn’t kill the man that I was sent here for killing. Some small town cop in Mississippi set me up and pulled strings to have me moved this far north. I’m
in here for life, convicted of killing a man that I didn’t kill.”

  “Write down every detail and all of the names of the people involved and get it to me by end of the day, I have a feeling I won’t be spending the night here.”

  “By end of day, huh? You sound like a CEO.”

  “That’s because I am a CEO. Now have it on my desk by end of day,” Bill chuckled.

  “Will do boss, will do.”

  Talon knew not to get his hopes up just to have them dashed. Only time would tell if Bill would do what he said, or if Talon would become nothing more than a distant memory after Bill’s release.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Kirk stood in the chief of police’s office and listened as he chewed his butt up one side and down the other. He had expected to get some flack over having Bill put in jail, but he hadn’t expected to get it from his own colleagues.

  “Do you have any fucking idea how much pull this guy has, or do you even give a shit that the Mayor is reaming my ass over this little stunt of yours?” The chief gave him no time to answer as his face reddened and his voice continued getting louder. Kirk couldn’t help but wonder if the guy didn’t have high blood pressure due to job stress. By the shade of red that his visage was exhibiting, it was a given.

  “I don’t know what your problem is with this guy, but let it go, or your ass is going to be sitting behind a desk pencil pushing for the rest of your career.”

  “Even if he is guilty, you want me to let him go?”

  “You have no evidence of that. You’re going on nothing but a hunch. I want his ass out of jail by sundown, or I’m sending the Mayor to you and I don’t think you’re going to like what he has to say.”

  Bill had to grit his teeth as he spoke, “Yes, sir.”

  He turned and left his boss’ office having more disdain towards Bill than when he’d entered. Why did it seem like the rich ones got away with murder? He resented how he put his life on the line for people day in and day out, yet it all boiled down to one thing: politics. No women was worth him losing his job, from all appearances it looked as if Bill Covington was going to get away with murder…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I sat going through the information Bill had compiled over the months on me. To say I was baffled was an understatement. He had managed to get access to my dental records—who does that?

  I guess the thing that shocked me the most was the fact that he had me under surveillance long before the ‘delivery boy’ incident. I couldn’t help but question why he would stalk me? Was there more to his obsession than just an attraction towards me?

  I could feel a small tinge of fear course through my system. My mind immediately went to thoughts of some grandiose plot pertaining to business. I could feel my mind heading off onto rabbit trails, with thoughts of some conspiracy against me being at the top of the list. I wasn’t that important, so there couldn’t be any scandal. This was just Bill’s kink—nothing more, nothing less—just kink. I hoped…

  I decided to dig deeper. I was on a mission now and I just couldn’t let it go. Thoughts of betrayal forced me onward. As I continued digging I found commercials I had written and produced for one of his competitors. That was when he began having me watched. We really were two peas in a pod; neither of us trusted, due to being burned in the past.

  I was glad to discover he wasn’t using me in some form or another. Even though we were married now, trust was still an issue for both of us. Would there ever come a day where I could completely trust a man? The bigger question at hand was, did I even want to?

  I turned the computer off and made my way into the shower to wash away the day’s stress and grime. I really just wanted to take a shower and spend the rest of the evening working on my king sized bed. It was one of the things I loved about being able to work for myself. I could work in the privacy of my own home, dressed how I wanted to be dressed, and at a pace that I set. Other than my husband being in jail for murder, my life was great.

  Nothing could have prepared me for my husband opening the shower door and joining me. My thoughts bombarded me, jumbling over one another in my head. When I reached out to touch him he grabbed my wrists in his hands.

  “Don’t, fucking touch me!”

  He opened the shower retrieving a set of handcuffs that he had placed on the toilet seat and quickly cuffed my wrists and hooked them above my head on a hook he had placed there long ago, for just this reason.

  He grabbed his shampoo and began washing his copper locks, acting as if I weren’t even there. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong?

  His scent floated through the air as I watched him soap up his body.

  He waited until he rinsed off before he acknowledged me and when he did—he was in dominant mode. I of all people knew that when he was in this frame of mind, I needed to tread lightly.

  He squeezed my chin between his fingers and his voice came out as more of a growl than a man greeting his wife after serving jail time.

  “Do you think that I want germs from those nasty ass inmates on my woman?” He gave me no time to answer before he fisted a handful of hair and whispered in my ear, “I asked you a fucking question and I expect an answer.”

  “No. I’m sorry, I’m just glad to see you and I don’t understand why you didn’t call me to pick you up.”

  He jerked at the roots of my hair and I winced in pain.

  “What, and give the inmates jerk-off fodder? I don’t think so.” His mouth was still by my ear as he spoke, “I want you to be quiet—very fucking quiet. In fact, I don’t want to hear one single syllable out of that pretty mouth of yours, unless you are screaming out my name while you come wrapped around me.”

  I just shook my head yes—it was the only thing to do when he was in this frame of mind. It was evident my husband had been out of control for the last couple of days and he was ready to be in control of something and that something was going to be me. I would be the person who would get him back on top of his game by allowing him to exercise control and dominance over me. In turn, he would get me back in the groove of everyday life by exercising that control. We would feed off of each other sexually and it would bleed over into every other area of our lives.

  I watched as he manipulated the showerhead to where pelts of water hit my breasts. He chuckled as I tried to squirm and avoid the sensitivity the impact was placing on my nipples. He waited a moment watching me dance around as if it intrigued him before he moved it.

  I licked my lips as I watched him stroke his cock unashamed while he studied my body. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone? Don’t lie to me.”

  I quickly shook my head no knowing what he would say if I said yes—that my orgasms belonged to him. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about touching myself, I had been concerned with getting him out of jail, not getting off.

  He made his way over to me before he taunted me by sliding his cock up and down my already soaked opening. I kept trying to move my body forward and latch on, but he would move away each time. He began rubbing the crown of his cock over my opening and he would stop each time I was close to release.

  “Now, we are going to leave you handcuffed. You are going to be dried off and on all fours on our bed within thirty seconds, or else.” A wicked grin informed me how he hoped I didn’t make it.

  He helped me out of the shower but left me to dry off myself to me. He was purposely making this hard on me and I hadn’t figured out whether it was because of some transgression that I had committed, or if it was just Bill being Bill.

  It was hard to balance in a doggy style position with my wrists handcuffed together. Balance isn’t a strong suit for me anyway and this only complicated matters.

  He took his time drying off and I knew he was playing on the anxiety I was experiencing by using anticipation. It is a known fact that Alphas and Dom’s play on their lover’s anxieties. Anticipation is meant to play on their fears, their doubts, and their insecurities. It gives them what they covet mos
t—control. He had accomplished exactly that. By using the fact that I was questioning myself, he had gained control.

  When he came and stood next to the bed with the flash-drive I had downloaded, I suddenly got a clear picture. He placed a finger over my lips and whispered, “Shh,” when I attempted to speak.

  “Open your mouth and hold this between your teeth. Oh—and no matter what happens, you better not drop it.”

  Oh shit.

  I watched as he went and retrieved his belt and I could feel my teeth clamping down on the memory stick as my heart began to race.

  A grunt escaped my mouth as the first strike of the belt hit my backside. What I didn’t understand was why did relief wash over me when the pain engulfed me? It was like I was safe in the harbor now. Ten strikes later, I still had that memory stick lodged between my teeth. He made his way to the side of the bed and placed the belt around my neck as he removed the stick from my lips. My upper body fell down into the mattress and as soon as he pushed his hard cock into me, he yanked my head back towards his mouth using the belt to do so.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t know you hacked into my computer because I was in jail? You still manage to underestimate me.”

  All I could say was, “It feels so good…”

  After cleaning up, I once again sat up against the headboard trying to get some work done.

  Bill sat with his legs outstretched and his fingers inter-locked behind his head, glaring at me. It was becoming more of a challenge to concentrate with each passing moment.

  “You are a sneaky little bitch, aren’t you?”

  “Well that is a little like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”

  “Did you get all of my files downloaded on your computer?”

  “You know I did,” I stated facetiously, never looking at him.

  “Then you already know that you won’t be finishing that commercial you made for my competition.”

  I jerked my head up glaring at him and he snickered, quite pleased with the fact he had gotten a reaction out of me. He continued to talk in order to insure his point had been made.