by Marie Force
Downstairs, in the city jail, she greeted the sergeant on duty.
“Your boys are in cell three, Lieutenant,” he said as she went by.
“Thanks, Sarge.”
As she approached the cell, she heard Jerry and Porter whispering to each other but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The cell contained two narrow cots, a small sink and a metal toilet between the beds. She could smell Porter from the hallway and choked back a gag.
“Gentlemen,” Sam said, clapping her hands loudly as she approached, making them jolt. She loved that. “I’d like to remind you that you have the right to remain silent.” She pointed to the cameras mounted in the corners of the cell. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights in this matter?”
Glowering at her, they both nodded.
“I’m going to need you to say, ‘Yes, I understand my rights.’” She pointed again to the cameras.
“I understand my rights,” they said in flat-sounding voices.
“Can you find him some new clothes?” Jerry jerked his thumb toward a red-faced Porter. “He fucking reeks.”
“I believe he was offered a jumpsuit, which we’re happy to provide, but he refused it.”
“Take it, you dickwad,” Smith said. “I don’t want to smell your piss all night.”
“Boys, boys,” Sam said condescendingly, “let’s try to get along.”
“I’ll take the jumpsuit,” Porter said through gritted teeth.
“I’ll have one brought to you.”
“I have to change here?”
“Where else?” Sam said. “This isn’t exactly the country club.” She called for the guard and asked him to bring Porter a change of clothing. “I’ll be back in the morning,” she said to her prisoners. “Hopefully, your lawyer or lawyers will be here by then so we can have a chat and get you arraigned. I can’t imagine what’s keeping them.” She shrugged as if it was no consequence to her, which it wasn’t.
They had a long, hard night ahead of them. With any luck, before the sun rose on a new day, they’d put two and two together and realize they’d been cut loose by the Patterson organization.
“Sleep tight,” she said as she walked away, smiling when Jerry muttered, “Fuck you” under his breath. “Fuck you too, you murdering son of a bitch,” she whispered to herself as she took the stairs to the pit. “Let’s go,” she said to Nick, who jumped up at the sound of her voice.
Knowing he was so anxious to get home had a flutter of nerves working its way down her spine as she locked her office door and walked out with him into the sultry night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sam knew she was in serious trouble when he tossed his suit jacket on the sofa in a move so wildly out of character for her neat-freak husband that she was shocked speechless. Tossing clothes on the sofa was her move, not his.
He continued to astound her when he unbuttoned her blouse, pushed it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my freakazoid husband?”
“Be quiet, and do what you’re told.”
Oh my... Since he was stepping so far out of character for the night, Sam decided to go with him, anxious to see where they might end up together. She had no intention of making a habit out of allowing him to boss her around. But this new and unexplored side of her sexy husband had her extremely intrigued. She wouldn’t have guessed he had it in him, which, she could now see, was a vast underestimation on her part.
Moving them toward the stairs, he continued to remove clothes, kicking off his wingtips with barely concealed abandon that made her hot and wet and needy. As he snapped her bra free with a move right out of the high school boy handbook, her nipples tightened.
Her pants and underwear followed and somehow her bra ended up hanging from the newel post.
“Up.” He pointed to the stairs. “Now.”
Sam was almost afraid to turn her back on him. Her bottom tingled at the possibility that he might get down to business on the way up. Tentatively, she took the first stair and then the second. Waiting to see what he would do was almost as arousing as knowing what was coming when they got upstairs.
Her legs felt heavy and clumsy as she made her way up, knowing he was right behind her but not touching her with anything more than his gaze. She had no doubt he was fully enjoying the sight of her ass as she moved up the stairs. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her palms damp as her clit throbbed and moisture pooled between her legs. She’d never been more turned on in her life, and he hadn’t even touched her. Yet.
When they reached the second floor, he said, “Keep going.”
He wanted to go to their special place in the loft, which he’d created to remind them of their honeymoon paradise in Bali. That he wanted to do this there only ramped up her overwhelming anticipation as she took the stairs to the loft. It felt so decadent to be walking through the house naked, knowing he was also naked right behind her.
The loft retained the fragrance of the beach from the scented candles he’d bought. She was instantly transported to the blissful days and nights of their honeymoon.
He moved around her to adjust the double lounge chair—exactly like the one they’d so enjoyed in Bali—so it was flat. “Lie down,” he said. “On your belly.”
Acutely aware of him watching her every move, Sam stretched out facedown, resting the uninjured side of her face on the pillow.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“I guess...” She was nervous and embarrassed and aroused and all sorts of other things she couldn’t seem to put words to as she heard him rustling around, lighting candles and turning on their favorite island music.
“Does your face hurt?”
“No.”
“Will you tell me if it starts to hurt?”
She had a feeling her face was going to be the least of her concerns in a few minutes. “Uh-huh.”
The lounge dipped under his weight when he joined her. She started to raise her head to see what he was doing, but he stopped her. “Don’t move. Close your eyes and trust me.”
Since there was no one she trusted more, she did as he requested even as her entire body quivered with anticipation and excitement.
His hands glided over her back, warm and smooth as a new fragrance filled her senses. Cedar and spice and flowers. She couldn’t place it. Massage oil, she realized as he kneaded the tension from her neck and shoulders before working his way down her back. Realizing he’d obviously put a lot of thought into how this night would unfold only ramped up her desire to unprecedented levels.
After a long period of silence in which Sam desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking and planning, he said, “I’m annoyed with you.”
His playful tone told her he was anything but annoyed. “What did I do this time?”
“I have a long list of grievances, and I plan to punish you for every one of them.”
“Is that so?” Sam said, playing along. She wanted to purr from the magic he was making with his skillful hands. Where had he been hiding this skill all these months?
“Uh-huh. Let’s start with your friend Avery Hill, who looks at you like he wants to take you home and tie you to his bed and keep you captive for days on end.” The slap to her ass was quick and sharp and shocking and so intensely arousing.
Sam gasped and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Heat radiated from the spot where his hand had made contact, and a flood of new moisture had her pressing her legs together, as if that might actually contain it.
“I don’t care for the way he looks at you. Not one bit.” The next slap landed on the other cheek, followed right after by a slap to the first spot, which now burned and tingled. He rubbed massage oil into both cheeks, cooling the sting but feeding the fire.
The effort to remain still and appear unaffected by what he was doing had
her squirming ever so slightly, which caused her nipples to rub against the coarse canvas on the lounge. If he so much as breathed on her clit, she’d go off like a Roman candle. She floated as he started from her shoulders and worked his way down again, giving extra special attention to her ass. His fingers slipped between her cheeks, rubbing oil on her anus and drawing a sharp gasp from her as his finger slid inside.
“Now let’s talk about that text you sent me that damn near gave me a heart attack today.” Another slap, harder than the earlier ones.
Sam would’ve laughed but she was too busy trying to breathe.
“I’m also not at all happy about the fact that you’ve been keeping things from me again.” His free hand came down on her ass again as his finger tunneled deeper into her.
“What things?” She squeaked out the words as an orgasm of epic proportions grew and built. The foreign sensation of his finger in her ass sent her out of her mind. She’d had no idea she would like that so much. She’d had no idea she’d like any of this as much as she did.
“That you like this,” he said, slapping her other cheek. “And this,” he said as he pushed his finger in and withdrew it before pushing it in again.
Sam came harder than she ever had in her life, and he hadn’t even touched the spot that usually required focused attention. She cried out from the overwhelming sensations that rocketed through her like an out-of-control freight train. Nothing she’d ever experienced could compare. Keeping his finger firmly lodged in her ass, he drew her up to trembling knees and thrust his cock into her.
Sam cried out from the dual assault on her senses and the near pain of his entry. Had he ever felt bigger or thicker inside her? Not that she could recall. Apparently, this new phase in their sex life was having the same overwhelming effect on him. That thought had her climbing toward another orgasm as he timed the thrusts of his finger and his cock so some part of him was inside her at all times, pushing hard against her with each reentry.
When he reached around to pinch her clit, she went off again, harder and longer than the last time, screaming out her release as he slammed into her and roared with his own climax. Long after they collapsed onto the lounge, he kept his finger and his cock inside her, absorbing the trembling shockwaves that followed two of the most astonishing orgasms of her life.
“Well,” he said, as he slowly and torturously withdrew his finger, “who knew?”
Sam let out a wobbly laugh as he pulled out of her and kissed her shoulder on his way to the bathroom. She lay there, still facedown, breathing as hard as she did when she sprinted after a suspect. He had taken her somewhere she’d never dreamed of going, and she’d loved every minute of it. Probably because she loved him so much.
As a woman who prided herself on a hard-core, take-no-prisoners personality, she should be embarrassed by the way she’d let him completely dominate her, but she wasn’t. She’d loved it, and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. Because he was Nick, he fully understood the rules of their game without her having to tell him she’d never tolerate such behavior anywhere else.
He returned to the lounge and stretched out next to her.
Sam curled up to him, resting her face on his chest and listening to his heart pounding as hard as hers was.
“So?” he said after a long period of contented silence.
“So what?”
“Did you like it?”
She laughed—hard. “Two screaming orgasms didn’t paint a good enough picture for you?”
He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “They gave me a pretty good idea, but I’d still like to know what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t know I’d like that,” she said.
“I didn’t know I would either.”
“So you liked it too?”
“Oh yeah. I felt like I was going to explode watching my finger sink into you as your cheeks got redder and redder.” His hand slid down her back to caress her bottom, which was warm and tender. “It didn’t really hurt, did it?”
“It stung, but in a good way.”
“I was worried about losing control and hurting you. I was so turned on. I’ve never been more turned on in my life.”
“Me either.” She tipped her head up so she could see his face in the candlelight. “I couldn’t have done that with anyone but you. I hope you know that.”
“Baby, believe me. I know. If there’s something else you want, I hope you’ll tell me. I don’t want you to ever feel embarrassed to ask me for anything.”
“I liked what you did with your finger,” she said, her face burning despite her earlier bravado. “I wouldn’t mind more of that.”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “How much more?”
She ran her hand over his belly to grasp his cock, which was hard again. “As much as you can give me.” She stroked him to make her point.
Releasing a jagged breath, he said, “Have you done that before?”
She shook her head. “Have you?”
His shrug answered for him. He rarely talked about the other women he’d been with, and Sam was dying for details he clearly didn’t wish to share.
What did it matter? He was hers now, and she planned to make sure he never wanted anyone else ever again. With that in mind, she raised herself up and straddled him, sinking down on his erection and drawing a moan of pleasure from him.
He cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples as she rode him to a fast, hard release that drained the last of her energy. She collapsed on top of him and felt his strong arms come around her as she flirted with sleep.
“I need to go clean up the clothes we left downstairs.”
Laughing, she said, “You do not!”
“I can’t sleep if I leave them there all night.”
“Try. I stepped way out of character for you. Time to return the favor.”
Chuckling, he said, “I love you, Samantha Cappuano.”
Sam, who had never planned to change her name for any man, loved the sound of her new name coming from him. “Love you too.”
* * *
Sam’s first stop the next morning was the city jail, where her two prisoners looked as if they hadn’t slept a wink all night. Unfortunately for them, she’d slept like a baby and was feeling energized and ready to rumble after the best sex of her entire life. They’d ended up sleeping in the loft and had engaged in some rather stupendous morning lovemaking. Whoever said married life was supposed to be boring hadn’t met her insatiable husband.
“Good morning,” she said to the two men, doing nothing to hide her chipper disposition. “Hope you slept well. Did you get your breakfast?”
“If you can call it that,” Porter mumbled, diminished by prison orange. Apparently, city jail fare wasn’t up to his usual standards. Imagine that? His dark hair stood on end, and his jaw was rough with whiskers. While it wasn’t as pungent as it had been the night before, the aura of urine was still present. Once Porter lost his polished veneer, he lost his bravado too, Sam noted.
“We haven’t heard anything from your attorneys,” Sam said, not mentioning that she’d been elated to learn she’d been right about that too. She’d been right more often than usual in this one, and that was saying something, since she was usually right. She liked being right. Her day had already been made by the news that crime scene detectives had found bloody clothes in Jerry’s hotel room. Could he be any stupider? It was proof that he’d never expected to be caught. He’d never expected her. “Is there someone else you’d like us to call?”
They exchanged nervous glances.
“We’re not from here,” Porter said. “We need to call people in Ohio and get them here.”
“I can get you someone from the public defender’s office if money is an issue,” Sam said.
“It’s not,” Porter snapped. “We can pay for our own lawyers.”
“Speak for yourself, a-hole. Christian and Colton will send someone for me. I’m going to wait.”
Porter
glowered at Jerry. “They’re not going to send anyone, a-hole.”
She was glad to see that at least one of them had realized they were on their own to face the charges with no help from the Patterson camp. Jerry was still holding out hope.
“Can I call someone in Ohio?” Porter asked. “He’ll know who I should call here.”
Sam passed her notebook and a pen through the bars. “Give me the number, and we’ll do it for you.” She watched him process that information and could tell he was once again on the verge of mentioning his rights, but he wisely refrained. According to the officers monitoring the cell, they hadn’t said much of anything to each other during the night. Too bad, Sam thought. It would’ve made things nice and tidy if they’d shared a few confidences while they were the guests of the city.
No such luck. While it galled her that they might not nail any of the Pattersons for their involvement in Victoria’s murder, at least they had the guy who’d actually murdered Victoria as well as one of his accomplices.
Porter returned the notebook to her. “I don’t have his number memorized, but I wrote down his name and address.”
“I’ll make the call and let you know what he says.” She paused before she added, “If either of you is willing to speak to us without an attorney present, we’re willing to listen to what you have to say.”
They exchanged glances again.
“What do we have to tell you?” Jerry asked.
“The truth,” Sam said with a shrug. “We want to know why Victoria was planted close to the Nelson administration. We want to know who was behind the scheme. We want to know who gave the orders, pulled the strings, paid the bills. We want to know it all.”
“In exchange for?” Porter asked.
“That’ll depend on what you give us.”
The two of them stood with their arms crossed and mulish expressions on their faces as they contemplated what she’d said.