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Beth Kery

Page 26

by Sweet Restraint


  “I’m the one who gave up hope, Shane. I’m the one who let evil men rule my destiny. You never did. Here’s the proof of it.”

  “It means nothing,” he said roughly. “It wasn’t enough.”

  “It means you never gave up . . . even when I had. It means everything ,” she corrected urgently as she stood, lifting her skirt and whisking her panties down her thighs. She turned her attention to his belt and the fastenings of his pants. He watched her numbly, finally lifting his hips when she tried to drag his clothing down his thighs.

  Her franticness finally pierced his fog of shock and regret. By the time she lifted his stiff cock, stroking it as she repositioned herself in his lap, her urgent need to join, to rejoice in their continued mutual existence, had spread to him as well.

  It was like the night of Huey’s suicide when he’d pushed her onto the couch, but with Laura being the one who demanded they acknowledge their connection despite the harsh reality that surrounded them.

  She perched on her knees as she brought the head of his cock to her slick, warm slit. At that moment, Shane couldn’t comprehend how he’d lived for the past thirteen and a half years without that divine sensation . . . without this sharp anticipation of joining himself to her, of blending with Laura. Pain throbbed in his injured shoulder when he instinctively tried to grab her waist to help position her.

  “Stay still. Let me do this. Let me come to you, Shane.”

  “Laura . . .” he groaned.

  “Shhh, I need you, too,” she soothed shakily as she lowered down over him several inches, fixing him in her flesh. Her hands went to the back of the couch to steady herself. She looked into his face, both of them wincing at the cruelty of the pleasure as she slid slowly down his length. He felt himself stretching her warm, muscular walls, sensed her body trying to accommodate his cock even as it clasped him like a velvet fist.

  By the time she sat in his lap, his cock fully enfolded in her body, both of them shook. He sensed when her muscles tensed in preparation to ride him to their fiery deaths.

  “I’m not going to be able to last. It feels too good,” he rasped.

  “You don’t need to last,” she replied simply. “There will always be another time. Always.”

  She gave the sweetest sigh as she began to pump him with her sleek, tight pussy. He lowered his head to her breasts as she fucked him, burying his face in the fragrant valley. The emerald scraped his cheek when he turned and pressed his lips to a bobbing breast, but he welcomed the small pain, embraced it because it would help him endure this agony of bliss for just a little longer.

  He pushed down the fabric of her bra, freeing the curving flesh from its confines. The material pushed up her already firm breasts into further pronouncement, the image the equivalent of distilled desire being plunged into Shane’s veins. He placed his lips on the incredible softness of the inner swell as she bucked up and down on his cock with increasing force.

  His face convulsed tightly as pleasure and emotion overcame him.

  “There’s never been another, Laura.”

  “Never for me, either. Let go now, love,” she insisted as she dropped her weight on him, her ass smacking into his tensed thighs. His lips parted and fastened on her nipple as an orgasm slammed into him, the power of it knocking him clean out of this world for an ecstatic, interminable period of time.

  When he came back to himself it was to the sensation of Laura riding his still spasming cock, fast and furious. His good hand rose to cradle her jaw. Her face looked surreal in its beauty at that moment, clenched as it was with pleasure and a love that seemed too vast to measure.

  God, she was beautiful. And she was his. She always had been.

  The only thing left was to hear the details of her story so he could make every last person who’d hurt her pay.

  The sound of a phone ringing penetrated Laura’s satiation. She slumped in Shane’s lap, his cock still inside her body, her face pressed against his uninjured shoulder. Both of them still panted in the aftermath of their frenzied, pressured mating. Neither of them moved and the phone eventually stopped ringing. When it started ringing again thirty seconds later, Shane leaned his head back on the couch and groaned in frustration.

  “I should probably get it. I’m technically on company time,” he muttered regretfully.

  Laura lifted herself off of him and reached for his jacket at the end of the couch. She found the ringing phone in an inside pocket and handed it to him. Shane glanced at the incoming number, frowned slightly, and answered it.

  “Yeah?”

  His dark eyebrows knitted together intently as he listened to whoever had called. Laura loved having the opportunity to study his face while his attention was so focused elsewhere. She knew she’d never tire of looking at his bold, ruggedly handsome features. She smiled when she glanced down at his lap and saw his cock lying along his thigh. He was still semi-erect and glistened with a combination of her juices and his own seed. The sight was singularly compelling. She couldn’t regret that they hadn’t used a condom.

  Their lovemaking had been too intensely emotional . . . too special to warrant regrets.

  “Has he talked to his lawyer?” Laura heard Shane ask as she settled on the couch next to him. She gave him a small grin when he glanced down at her, but although some powerful emotion Laura couldn’t identify flashed in his blue eyes, he didn’t return her smile.

  “Yeah . . . Okay. I’ll talk to him about it—explain I can’t become directly involved. We need to be careful we don’t make any mistakes that would make his testimony inadmissible . . . Yeah . . . It’s not like we weren’t expecting this. I’ll see you at headquarters in a bit.”

  “You have to go into work?” Laura asked when he’d hung up. The way Shane stared at the phone for several seconds without speaking made her wary for some reason.

  “Yeah.” His eyes rose to meet hers. “You’re going to have to go with me at some point, Laura. In order to make a statement.”

  Her eyes dropped. “I know. I’m ready.”

  “I want to hear everything you have to say first,” he said gently. “You can tell me when I come home later. I have to leave for a while. Joey just informed Mavis Bertram that he wants to plead guilty. He’s going to give evidence against those who haven’t been caught yet in hopes of a lighter sentence.”

  Silence reigned in the study for a taut moment.

  “I don’t understand.” Laura sat up slowly. “How can Joey name names when he’s not involved? I know he’s innocent. He’s been set up.”

  Shane’s face became masklike. “I don’t know, baby. All I know is he’s specifically asked for me. I guess we’re going to find out what Joey has to say,” he said grimly as he grabbed his pants and underwear and stood, jerking them up over his thighs.

  Laura put her hand on his arm. “You’ve got to tell him not to do it, Shane. He doesn’t have to say something that’s not true just to get out of this mess. Tell him we’ll get the evidence to prove his innocence. Will you tell him that, Shane?”

  She didn’t care for the shadow of sadness that crossed his features when he looked down at her. Her hand slowly dropped from his arm. Was he pitying her? Her mind went back to what he’d just said on the phone before she’d understood he was talking about Joey.

  We need to be careful we don’t make any mistakes that would make his testimony inadmissible . . . Yeah . . . It’s not like we weren’t expecting this.

  “You never believed me about Joey being set up?” Laura whispered incredulously. Hurt spread from her neck down to her gut like hot, liquid lead.

  “That’s not true. I wanted to believe you. But the evidence against Joey is overwhelming, Laura, and now—”

  “You just wanted me to tell you the truth and you used Joey as an excuse to get me to do it.”

  Anger and incredulity pinched his features. “How can you say that to me? I wanted you to be honest—I want you to be honest with me—because it’s the right thing to do. Your damn
secrets have kept us apart all these years. You can’t believe for a second it’s right to let these criminals blackmail you.”

  She stared up at him, her pain and confusion making her temporarily mute.

  Shane sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration for a few seconds. “Look. I need to go right now. I’ll come back as soon as I can. You and I still have a lot to discuss,” he reminded her as he zipped his pants. “I want you to stay right here. Double lock the door after I go and don’t let anyone inside.

  “Laura? Do you understand?” he probed when she just stared at him unseeingly, her thoughts whirring with the news about her brother. She delved her hand into her skirt pocket, her fingers clutching the piece of paper Telly Ardos had given her earlier today.

  How could Joey possibly justify giving evidence for crimes he wasn’t involved in? Was he so desperate to avoid the possibility of going to prison? Shane had said the evidence against him was strong. The thought of Joey being implicated in all this sordid ugliness on top of Uncle Derrick left her feeling weak and nauseated.

  What if what Shane said was true? What if Joey had known all along how she suffered? What if he’d sold her to a miserable fate in order to beef up his bank account, or so that he could buy that vacation home in Wisconsin?

  She barely contained her rising panic.

  “Tell him not to do it, Shane,” she begged, her voice shaking. “Tell Joey his innocence will be proven once and for all. Shane? You’ll tell him, won’t you?”

  “Laura, I won’t be the one who actually takes his testimony. I’ve taken myself off any formal proceedings because of Joey’s and my friendship and history together. Although he’s specifically asked for me, I’ll have to go and explain that I can’t be involved in taking his statement. But of course I’ll encourage him to tell the truth.”

  “I’m going with you,” she said, standing.

  “No. They won’t allow you to be involved in the interrogation. Now, I’m going to go wash up and leave, but I want your promise before I do that you’re going to stay put until I get back.”

  Laura nodded rapidly, but she hardly knew what she agreed to. Her mind was completely wrapped up in one thought and one thought alone.

  She had to get solid evidence against Moody . . . something he couldn’t just deny like he could her or Joey’s allegations. She had to stop him before he destroyed everything that was dear to her. And if the evidence truly existed, like it’d been hinted to her that it did, she might be the only one who could access it.

  “Laura?” She met Shane’s stare dazedly. “I know you’re upset, both with me and this situation. But I want your word you’ll stay here where it’s safe. I want you to say it.”

  “Of course I will,” she assured him.

  He’d forgive her for lying straight to his face when she gave him all the evidence the federal government needed to prosecute the true criminals in the CPD theft ring. Shane could no longer deny the truth about Joey when he saw the proof she would lay in his hands.

  And perhaps more important, Shane would be safe from Randall Moody’s encroaching reach.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Shane stared blankly at the beige walls of one of the interrogation rooms at Bureau headquarters. It was more comfortable for him to stare at the wall than at his old friend. Even though Joey slumped in his chair like a defeated man, Shane still had to resist a primitive urge to grab his hair and slam his face into the wood table at which they both sat.

  Anger tightened his throat so he cleared it before he spoke.

  “This is going to kill Laura.”

  Joey clenched his dark eyes shut and cursed under his breath. “You think I don’t know that? It’s going to kill Shelly and Carlotta as well. I don’t need you to remind me of that, Dom.”

  Shane turned his furious gaze onto Joey. “I’m talking about more than just your admission that you took part in the theft ring. Don’t you get that?”

  Joey looked confused. “What do you mean?”

  Shane slammed the table so hard Joey jumped back in his chair. “I mean that Laura has been emotionally blackmailed by these sons of bitches for years because she discovered what they were up to. That must have been before you joined their little club. They’ve been threatening Laura with hurting you and your family, and she had good cause to believe them. According to her, Randall Moody had Derrick and Peter killed when she stepped out of line. She was coerced into marrying Huey Mays so he could act as her jailer all these years, ensuring she kept quiet. And she did—do you know why, Joey? Because she thought she was protecting her family. And all along, you were colluding with the assholes that threatened her . . . hurt her . . . murdered your own brother. That’s what I mean, you selfish bastard.”

  Joey’s lips turned white around the edges.

  “I don’t understand. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Laura never gave any indication she didn’t want to be with Huey. True, I always thought it was bizarre the way they eloped all of a sudden . . . and she certainly seemed chilly toward him, but—”

  “You never bothered to ask her about it though, did you?” Shane interrupted savagely. “You saw whatever you wanted to see. Laura says she’s happy, so of course she must be.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dom, I’m not some kind of psychologist or a mind reader or something. Laura never indicated there was anything wrong with her marriage. What was I supposed to think?”

  Shane leaned forward aggressively, both his forearms on the table. “Don’t tell me you spent all that time with Huey Mays while you two were using your badges to rough up and steal from innocent people and you never noticed a thing about Mays’s obsession with hookers. Or that he was a raging alcoholic and drug abuser. You’re the detective, Joey. What more indication do you need that your sister was more than likely miserable being married to that creep? Or were you right there with Huey, enjoying all his drugs and whores?”

  “Fuck you, Dom. You know how much I love Shelly.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about you, apparently.”

  “If you knew all those fucking things about Laura, why didn’t you do anything?” Joey accused bitterly.

  Shane had slid his chair next to Joey and had his good hand around his throat almost before the last syllable died on Joey’s tongue. Joey made a choking sound beneath Shane’s squeezing hand but he didn’t fight him. He just stared at him with those dark eyes—eyes Shane had been familiar with for more than thirty years.

  Joey gasped loudly when Shane released him. Shane stood and bolted for the door.

  “I had my . . . own life to consider . . . my own problems,” Joey sputtered angrily between coughs.

  “I don’t want to hear about your problems,” Shane growled. “If you want to spill your guts, more power to you. I’ll send Special Agent Bertram in to hear your sob story. Don’t expect any special treatment on my part, though. You bought your ticket knowingly. Don’t plan on coming to me now and complaining about it being a shitty ride.”

  Shane paused outside the interrogation room door, back against the wall, head bent, eyes closed, trying to regain his equilibrium. Rage and adrenaline pumped through his veins. He felt his boiling blood pounding in his injured shoulder, the resulting pain like a throbbing toothache.

  He’d held out hope that Laura was right, that there was a small chance Joey really had been set up. Stranger things had happened in conspiracy cases like this one. He knew when he’d gotten that phone call from Mavis earlier that the chances of that were nil, however.

  Seeing Laura’s confusion and disillusionment when he’d told her that her brother was about to plead guilty and give evidence on his coconspirators had just about killed him. But hearing Joey confess his involvement and, at the same time, deny his knowledge of Laura’s suffering had him ready to break something—most preferably Joey’s face.

  The thing of it was, he suspected Joey was telling the truth. He’d known Joey since he was a kid, recognized he had a tendency to cut corner
s to get what he wanted versus engaging in hard, honest labor. But Joey wasn’t cruel by nature. He didn’t—couldn’t—believe that Joey Vasquez had knowingly conspired with his brother’s murderers and his sister’s jailers.

  “Really shitty day all around, huh?” Mavis Bertram asked.

  Shane blinked his eyes open. “Yeah. Joey’s ready for you to question him, but don’t get your hopes up. Mays kept him pretty insulated from Moody. Most of what he has of relevance for testimony is in regard to a few fellow officers.”

  “Shit,” said Mavis.

  “Yeah. I was actually hoping Joey knew something.” It would have helped their case if Laura wasn’t the sole witness against Moody.

  Shane’s gaze sharpened when he saw Mavis’s uncomfortable expression and shifting feet. “What is it?”

  “Agent Patterson just made contact.”

  Shane paused in the action of wiping his brow. Patterson was the agent Mavis had put in charge of tailing Laura. Was Mavis going to chew him out for taking a potential witness on her case to his condominium? He doubted it, since he hadn’t yet told Mavis that Laura was going to confess—that she had confessed, at least partially.

  “What’s wrong?” Shane demanded.

  “It seems that Laura Mays left your condominium soon after you did,” Mavis replied, casting her gaze at the floor, probably to prevent from giving her boss an accusing stare, Shane thought. He inhaled slowly.

  “Where’d she go?”

  Mavis met his eyes. “The Metropolitan Correctional Facility.”

  “What?” Shane exploded.

  “She completed a request to speak with a prisoner, Dom. Laura Mays is having a visit with Vince Lazar even as we speak.”

  Shane’s mind went blank for a second. The first thought that popped into his head made his heart feel like it dropped into his gut. “Visitor conversations in federal lockup are all recorded.”

  Mavis nodded. “That’s right. So unless your girl made an appointment to discuss the weather with her husband’s old crime buddy, we’re likely going to have something significant on tape.”

 

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