Her head rested on his shoulder as the pleasure swamped her. Tessa could feel his hands on her ass.
Touching.
Stroking.
Exploring.
Tessa lifted her head, and immediately, her husband rolled, placing her beneath him on the couch. She was pinned, his erection still buried in her body.
“I love this position,” he said, as he slowly began moving in and out of her body.
Paris pulled the apron down, so he could see all of her breasts as he drove himself in and out of her body.
Months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to do this long. Now…he was stronger.
Paris stared down as his erection slid into her body. He was wet and slick, and he loved it.
“Perfect,” he muttered, as he kept up the pace.
Tessa was moaning as he kept driving himself into her and that one spot.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said, still focused on his dick. He needed to watch. He needed his brain to make the connection between the visual and the sensation.
His body began tingling.
Tessa moved her one leg and dropped her ankle onto his shoulder.
He moaned.
“You undo me,” he muttered, as he looked up and watched himself in the mirror over the buffet not far from where they were.
He could watch himself fucking Tessa.
That was why it was there.
“Take me, Paris,” she muttered.
And he did.
He drove into her, his shirt open, and his tie around her neck—between her breasts.
“I want you,” he muttered, watching himself pumping his hips as his wife took him to the base of his erection.
He felt so amazing.
“Jesus! You’re wet,” he muttered, as the heat picked up and a tingle began moving down his spine and right to his balls.
“Harder,” she begged, moaning loudly.
Her husband began driving into her rougher.
Wilder.
Tessa loved every second of it.
As she stared up at him, she was swept away with love, adoration, and happiness.
Here was her husband. This man saved her life and in so many ways.
Then he placed her other ankle on his other shoulder and held onto her thighs to balance himself.
The visual…it was making him crazy.
“Oh God, Tessa! This is amazing,” he said, refusing to slow down. His body was coming alive.
She came again.
He didn’t stop.
She begged.
She whimpered through the orgasm, and still, he didn’t stop.
Paris drove into her until she was gasping with that next orgasm. She was sensitive, and he was just about there.
His fingers found her clit.
She gasped as he gave her a pinch.
“Oh God!” she begged. “I’m going to cum, Paris. I can’t hold on,” she warned him.
“Tessa, honey,” he muttered, perspiration beading on his brow. He couldn't either.
His dick was throbbing.
His balls ached.
He could feel it all.
“Tess! Cum!” he ordered.
And she did.
They fell together.
Tessa dropped her legs, and Paris fell forward onto her body. His mouth found hers as she held him against her.
Slowly, they kissed their way back to the surface from the pleasure.
“That was pretty hot, Mrs. Archer.”
She didn't have words.
That was…spectacular.
“Mmmmm, Mr. Archer, you rocked my world.”
He laughed.
“It was the pureed green beans.”
She snorted.
“How about I make you a real lunch, and we head up to meet the new little one who has joined the family?” Tessa asked. “I have a present for her.”
“Green beans?”
She pinched him on the ass.
He laughed.
“I didn’t feel that. Nice try.”
She bit him on the neck.
“And I liked that.”
They cuddled.
“I love you, Tessie.”
She loved him too.
And always would.
Chapter Four
Monday
Late
Afternoon
P oppy had grabbed lunch, ate at a little hole in the wall café, and even had some coffee on a park bench. That was the beauty of working without a partner. She didn’t have to check in and she wasn’t going to feel guilty.
She was still working.
Just on her own shit.
She had a binder with photocopied evidence in it. It was from Mace Bristol’s murder and Lester Lucas’s too. She was going to find a way to connect the dots to put the commissioner out of his position and into prison.
She was going to find a way to figure out if the commissioner had called in the hit on both cops. She needed to know.
Way too many cops had died—and that was a travesty. The ONLY one she didn’t feel bad about was her ‘partner’—that scumbag. He’d been part of the sex trafficking ring in Vegas, and he died before he could be asked where Rosemary Harrington was going to be found.
He could rot in his grave.
The other two?
That was up in the air.
Heading back to her apartment, Poppy was forced to look around. There was that gut irritating feeling like she was being watched.
Poppy knew it was likely her imagination, but still…
What the hell?
If the commissioner was having his goons follow her, she’d shoot him in the ass herself. Then again, it could be the cops she’d just humiliated on the crime scene.
All she knew was she was sick of it.
Enough was enough.
Something had to be done in Vegas, and someone had to stand up to the assholes running amuck while pretending to be cops.
This place was becoming some jacked up, wild, Wild West. It was one hell of a hot mess.
It looked like she was going to be playing the role of the new sheriff in town.
Great.
They’d all be gunning for her by the time the week was up. What the hell had Poppy gotten herself into?
She was screwed.
How could it possibly get any worse?
Unlocking her door, she headed in, took off her gun and badge, and put them in the kitchen cabinet where she always kept them when she wasn’t asleep. She’d take her gun to bed with her later. For now, all she wanted was to take a shower, get the coffee and creamer smell off of her, along with the crime scene stench.
Those were her priorities. Then she’d freak out and worry about the shitstorm heading her way. All of this had her distracted, and that was a bad thing.
Poppy was seriously considering a vacation—as far from Vegas as humanly possible. Maybe she’d find a nice town where they needed a slightly, emotionally battered cop.
She laughed.
Yeah, right.
She couldn’t leave. Vegas needed her, and there was that one man there who made her feel things she’d never felt before.
Dimitri Gideon.
God!
She wished she could have that date with him. She’d rock his world seven ways to Sunday.
It made her smile.
Mmmmm…Dimitri Gideon...
He was sin personified. There was something about that bad boy attitude that got her hot, bothered, and all kinds of wet.
For now, she’d think about him.
It would give her something pleasant to think about before she headed into the corruption storm.
In her bedroom, she stripped out of her clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket. She stared at herself in the mirror, checking out her ass.
Well, Dimitri did say he liked it. There was that. Only, he couldn’t be part of her life.
That meant one thing.
Yeah, she needed to up her cardio. Sitting mos
t of the day was not her friend.
Heading into the shower, she turned on the water and stepped inside.
As she washed her hair, she hummed.
God.
It was good to be home.
Poppy knew the cops out there couldn’t get her. She finally felt safe.
He watched her from beneath her bed as she walked back and forth in her bedroom. From his position, he was able to watch her take off her clothes. Then, already excited, he was able to watch her pad around barefoot.
Then he heard the shower.
Yes, the woman he’d wanted was back. Time had erased all the years. He was sure this was the one he wanted.
It was her.
He remembered it that day.
Those lovely ankles.
That lovely set of toes.
He was going to have her again.
When he heard the shower curtain, he rolled out from beneath the bed. Lovingly, he pulled the blankets down and sprinkled it with flower petals.
You know…to set the scene.
Then he headed into the bathroom to claim his beautiful prize. She was back after all those years of being gone from his life, and this was a very special moment.
It was precious.
It was going to be perfect.
As for getting naked himself, he’d strip later when he had her contained. That would have to be the first step in his plan. Last time, he had to kill her.
He rubbed his eyes.
Did he kill her?
How was she back?
There was a part of him trying to tell him this was wrong, but the sickness was winning.
The lust was winning. He couldn’t help himself. In his mental haze, all he saw was this prize.
She was magnificent.
With a shake of his head, he was, again, focused on what needed to be done. Pulling the rope from his pocket, he got ready.
When his fingers touched the pretty shower curtain, he took a deep breath to steady himself.
Only then, when he was ready, did he brace himself for what was to come.
Oh, she’d fight.
And he loved it.
Then, with glee, he yanked the curtain back and attacked.
He was on his prey.
It was time.
Poppy was just rinsing her hair when she heard the shower curtain being pulled back like someone was planning to dive in and grab her.
Before she could clear her vision, the worst experience of her life occurred.
Someone grabbed her.
As the soap was still in her eyes, she couldn't see anything, but she fought with everything she had.
The only thing that worked in her favor was that she was strong. She knew how to defend herself.
As Poppy felt the rope going around her throat, and beginning to close, she struggled for everything she was worth. Poppy refused to go down.
As it cut into her flesh, she ignored the need to try and breathe and knew she had less than a minute to fight. She had to hurt the attacker enough that he let the rope go.
Priorities.
She swung.
She punched.
She kicked.
When he got close enough, she heard what he called her. She heard what he said as the rope went slack.
Poppy put it aside for later, and she began screaming bloody fucking murder.
She needed help.
Suddenly, and with one, last, miraculously placed kick, the man assaulting her dropped her, and the rope, and ran.
Poppy sat in the shower, shaking from the attack. She wiped her eyes, and instead of following the assailant, to get his ID, she did the only thing she could think of in that moment.
She called for help.
Poppy called the only person in Vegas she knew she could trust.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Sky Villa
When his phone rang, he and the rest of the family were watching his two kids play a board game. It was a comedy of errors, and it was as funny as hell. When you mixed a spunky boy with a child around the same age who didn’t speak much English, hilarity would ensue.
And it was.
Sam was trying, patiently, to teach Petra how to play Candy Land. It was well past his age, but he was trying to teach her colors and numbers.
He was an amazing big brother.
The whole thing touched Dimitri.
It was sweet.
This was what family was all about, and now he understood. When he was raising his sisters, it was out of obligation and to save them. Now, he was able to just sit back, enjoy fatherhood, and let nature take its course.
He was a dad.
It was laughable.
Dimitri was a killer, and a part of him knew he had no business having any kids. He knew they were in danger because of him, but in his life, he rarely was able to have anything for himself.
Sam was that treasure, and Petra would be too.
They were his core.
Now, if he could only get a very stubborn detective to date him, his life would be pretty amazing.
As if conjuring her up, his phone rang. When he saw her name appear on his caller ID, it looked like the ‘Good Luck Fairy’ was going to make one more delivery.
He couldn’t help but smile.
Finally.
Poppy Wayne wanted to get that drink.
“Hello, Miss Wayne. Miss me?” he flirted cockily. Dimitri couldn’t help himself.
He wanted her too.
There was silence on the phone as the family watched him with big smiles.
Emma winked at him.
“Miss Wayne?” he asked again.
“I didn’t know who to call, Dimitri. I…I was just attacked in my home. I can’t call the police. Can you please come?” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
His heart pounded in his chest. All the calm and joy washed away, as he was filled with anger.
Someone touched the woman he knew was meant to be his. There would be hell to pay.
Dimitri was up from the couch, and the other men joined him. They could tell from his body language that something bad had gone down.
“Poppy, I’ll be there. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll bring others with me.”
“Please, Dimitri. I need you.”
That was all he had to hear.
He hung up.
Emma was the first to ask.
“What’s wrong?”
His face showed the rage.
“Poppy was just attacked in her apartment. We have to go,” he stated.
Greyson and Chris were by his side. They knew the family would be safe in Sky Villa. For now, they had to worry about the woman Dimitri was attracted to.
They had to save her for him.
They had to get to Poppy.
“The commissioner is a dead man,” Dimitri said, pulling off the sling that was helping his arm heal.
There was no time for that jackassery.
“I need a gun,” he said, as both of his kids watched him. Without hesitation, Chris handed him one of his spare guns. Dimitri tucked it into the back of his pants.
“Sam, mind your sister. Listen to Emma, and please behave,” he stated. “She’s pregnant and doesn’t need the stress.”
“I have it, Dad. I’ll hold down the fort. I need a gun.”
Emma laughed.
“Never happening, kiddo. Head out, Dimitri. I have them. They’ll be fine. I love this game,” she offered, getting down on the floor to play it with them.
Dimitri didn’t even kiss the kids. He was so freaking worried about Poppy.
He raced out, hoping she was safe. Whoever tried to hurt her would pay. She’d been rattled. He could hear it in her voice. On the mountain, Poppy had been a study of sturdy nerves and control.
When she called…
Not so much.
In the garage beneath the villa, Dimitri jumped behind the wheel of the car since he was the ONLY one out of the three who knew where she lived.
<
br /> Sue him.
He’d stalked her at her house to watch her. Dimitri couldn’t help himself. He missed her.
“I had security watching her,” he said as they tore out of the parking garage like they were running from some invisible killer.
“Which one?” Chris asked, riding shotgun as he held on for dear life.
“Ilan Hyde.”
Greyson heard the tension.
“I’m sure he didn’t know what was going down. He’s a good guy,” Greyson stated.
Oh, he knew Dimitri.
While he was always calm, when it came to Poppy Wayne, the opposite was true. She tied him up in all kinds of knots. He was a basket case for the first time in his life, and it wasn’t sitting well with him.
At all.
“Where the hell was he?” he asked.
Chris tried to help.
“If she was attacked in her home, maybe he was outside hiding in plain sight. You told him to follow her. You didn’t tell him to follow her into her place and make a sandwich. Place the blame where it’s due.”
He took a deep breath.
“You’re right.”
Well, that was a first.
This was proof how over the moon he was about this woman. Dimitri never agreed with Chris—mostly to rile him up.
“It’s okay. We’ll get her to Sky Villa. We’ll get her safe. She’s marked by that asshole. We have to keep her safe,” Dimitri stated.
And they would.
Dimitri’s knuckles had gone white as he gripped the steering wheel in a death grip.
It was clear he was furious.
“Hold on,” Chris muttered, as Dimitri took a corner on what felt like two wheels.
Greyson did just that.
Dimitri couldn’t focus. Someone had touched Poppy and in her own safe place.
She was his.
While she didn’t understand that, he did. He understood that no one was going to hurt her. She’d saved him, and she’d saved Sam. This was about making sure she was protected—even if she didn’t want him.
“We have to get to her,” Dimitri stated, hitting the navigational screen to find out what the hell was going on with Ilan Hyde.
He answered on the first ring.
“What the fuck?” Dimitri asked.
Well, so much for him staying calm and not flipping out at his security guy.
Mob Justice Page 12