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In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)

Page 30

by Ellen, Tracy


  Nonplussed, I stared at her and then asked, “Do you have a phone?”

  She grimaced again. “Yes, but it’s a cheap throw away.”

  I smiled tightly. “Even better. Grab it and come over, but only if you want to read, not talk. I’m done talking tonight.”

  Mia eagerly nodded her agreement and disappeared back into her room.

  Holding the phone back up to my ear, I said, “Sorry about that, Anna.”

  She was laughing softly. “Sounds like you have a new friend.”

  “Yes, I have a protégé,” I replied, unable to prevent a smile when saying that word.

  Sitting on Luke’s bed, I leaned back against the pillows. Reaching over, I placed the Ruger out of sight under my pillow and pulled the blankets up over my bare legs.

  “What? Poor Mia!” Anna was laughing, but its forced laughter. Luke’s text had really gotten her down.

  “Poor Anabel!” I countered, as Mia came skipping into the room.

  Hearing about Luke’s text had me down, too. In a flash, all kinds of thoughts raced through my head. Luke knew I was here, but yet he was not coming directly home after Reggie’s poker party. He was also aware that Dickie’s deadline had passed and that I’d be worried.

  Was he still showing his disappointment at me for today? That would seem petty and counterproductive considering he was the one who went to great lengths to kidnap me for the weekend.

  Does this text have to do with Luke’s mysterious relationships with Carter’s brothers and his financial shenanigans that I was trying to unravel? That reminded me of the maps and plat drawings I saw in the Bat Cave. I ran out of time today, but I wanted to look closer at the papers James Byrd gave me and map out the properties Luke had purchased. They have to mean something in this puzzle.

  Right now, though, I was tired and in no mood to guess at the reason behind my boyfriend’s absence. What’s staring me in the face was that I’m here and Luke’s not. If it wasn’t for the problem of the peacefully snoring Mexican women, I’d grab my protégé and we’d be in my jeep in an instant.

  I kept my voice level to not reflect my thoughts and further upset Anna. “Did there happen to be a name or anything with the text?”

  “There wasn’t a name,” Anna replied with regret, “but there was a number I memorized.”

  “Anna, you’re the best bestie,” I averred, laughing softly at her tone of apology for not having more data when a number was great.

  I mouthed my thanks to Mia when she handed me the phone. Smiling, she climbed onto the bed next to me. Mia was wearing a pair of my sweats and a T-shirt to sleep in. With her dark hair in two braids hanging down and her face scrubbed clean, she looked about fourteen.

  As Anna called them off, I punched the numbers into Mia’s phone. After that, there was an awkward silence.

  Anna blurted, “It’s got to be nothing, Junior!”

  I remained quiet, but she was wrong. That text meant something, I just didn’t know what.

  Anna stated firmly, “Luke is a good guy and, my God, that ring! He’s so in love with you and he’s so smart. He would never do anything bad.”

  “Hey, don’t worry, okay? And Anna?”

  “Yes?” Anna responded on a depressed, weary note that made me glad she’d taken the weekend off from the Fare. She was close to the second trimester of pregnancy and I’ve heard women often feel exhausted. After all the excitement of tonight, she could sleep in tomorrow with my brother and recoup.

  “Thanks for having my back, and Luke would really be tickled that you believe in him. Can we talk in the morning?”

  “Sure,” she quietly agreed. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I put my phone down and stared at Mia’s cell in my hand. With the unknown number poised to be called; I realized this was eerily reminiscent of my conversation with Jaz about Diego and Mac. But Diego was easy to predict—he’s a good guy through and through. My Dark Prince was a good guy and a bad guy. His idea of what constitutes good and bad may be very different than the normal standard.

  My phone vibrated on the bedside table again. Glancing over, I shrugged and smiled apologetically at the patiently waiting Mia.

  I picked up my phone and saw a text from Mr. Handsome is as handsome does.

  No word. Home late. Don’t leave!

  I had put my ring back on after my shower and I looked down at Sparky. Wiggling my fingers, I smiled a little at the burst of colorful brilliance. ‘Well, since he begged so prettily…’

  I texted back: You are dead meat, Genghis.

  Putting my phone aside, I pressed send on Mia’s phone.

  The number rang twice and went to voice mail. The recorded message was a husky female voice that sounded like she recently did a shot of Southern Comfort. “Hi, you’ve reached Veronica and I can’t come to the phone right now. If you leave your name and number, I’ll be sure and call you back just as soon as I can. Thank you!”

  I hand Mia back her phone and said, “If this number calls you back and I’m around, please give me the phone, but don’t ever pick up and talk, okay?”

  Mia nodded, her eyes intent on my face. “Okay.”

  “Do you feel like reading, Protégé?”

  She smiled. “Always.”

  “Cool. Oh yeah, I have one thing to say about being your mentor.” I figured I’d better start how I meant to go on with this little spitfire, too. “Call it your first rule.”

  “What? Tell me!” she responded enthusiastically, sitting up straighter.

  “Do not contact me before ten in the morning unless it’s a dire emergency. By dire, I mean near death or dead.”

  “Oh,” Mia muttered, eyeing me balefully.

  I fell back on the pillows and grinned in return. “Now name your poison.” I lowered my voice, “Don’t tell anyone, but I have a Kindle loaded with zombie, romance, and how-to books or “A Game of Thrones” in paperback. Book one.”

  I’d decided an escape from reality for a while was the new plan. I have no idea what Mr. Tricky and Veronica were doing, but at this particular moment in time, I didn’t give a flying fuck.

  “Kindle, please. I’ve read all of George R.R. Martin.” Mia punched a few pillows and got situated next to me on the bed.

  By next to me, I mean Mia had scooted past the middle of the huge bed and aligned her pillows flush to mine. Our shoulders almost touched. As long as the word almost was in that sentence and her clothes stay on, I was okay with Mia needing a little human contact and wanting to snuggle in. She probably missed her sisters.

  Cozily warm in our pillows and covers, the room went quiet as Mia and I become absorbed in our books. That’s the last thing I remembered until I was being dragged up from the depths of a deep sleep by the tingly pleasure party taking place between my legs. Unconsciously, I was moving my hips and pressing my thighs tightly together against the arousing swollenness in my cha-cha region.

  Disoriented, I moaned in pleasure to feel my breasts being fondled under my shirt. Unless Mia has very large man hands, Luke was home and wrapped around me.

  His face was buried in my neck, but I heard his nuzzling, “I love you, Anabel.”

  Sleepily I smiled, but started to fall back under, even while mumbling, “You’d better.”

  I was so tired and only hazily aware of Luke’s chuckle, and then his voice was at my ear, “Are you begging me to be inside you,” the fondling hands squeezed my nipples and an invading thigh spread my legs from behind, and slid slowly along me, “so that you can tell me everything you hate about me, Princess?”

  But then again, I was never that tired. It made me happy to have a hard thigh between my legs to rub against. I pushed back, rubbing my butt on something long and hard that was also trying to increase my happiness while murmuring, “Mmm, yes please, I really want that.”

  The words barely passed my lips before Luke lifted the shirt over my head. His hands were everywhere on my body, warming my skin and causing shivering tingles wherever they dipped an
d delved.

  Luke reached up and switched the bedside lamp on. His warmth was no longer behind me and shading my eyes from the glare, I rolled over to see where he’d gone.

  My Dark Prince was leaning back on pillows in the middle of the bed. His boyish grin was big and his erection was even bigger, and luckily for me, not boyish at all.

  He was lazily reclining, all sculpted muscles and gleaming skin, and so darkly masculine against the white bedding that my hot rush of desire was actually painful. I could clearly see the ink on his chest, the blue A vibrant against his brown skin and the black intertwining scrollwork even more beautiful than I recalled. The tattoo hiked up his hotness to off the charts. I could hardly believe that anything could make him look tougher or more attractive in my eyes, but it did.

  Luke’s smile slowly disappeared under my reverent gaze and he urged softly, “Come here, Anabel, and sit on me, so that I can see you.”

  Pushing the hair off my face, I let the covers drop. I opened the bedside drawer and grabbed a couple of condoms. On my knees, I walked across the bed to where Luke waited.

  Opening the condom, I leaned over to smooth it down on him. If this stuck my ass up in the air at a pert angle and dangled my breast like ripe fruit for the picking, I cannot be blamed because I needed to take my time for safety reasons. I needed to make sure the condom fit his penis perfectly, pulling here and adjusting there.

  On a growl, Luke finally sat forward and lifted me up onto him, so that I was straddling his perfection.

  He smiled slowly up at my startled face and I smiled happily back while wondering, not for the first time, how I got so lucky to have this incredible man choose me as his girlfriend. He was so intelligent, so talented, and so incredibly fucking hot that he could have any woman in the Universe.

  I was off worshiping at the altar of my war-god, so Luke startled me again when his hands at my waist lifted me higher until my breasts were in his face. He tortured me with long sucking, licking kisses and short, hard sucking kisses, rubbing his face over me the whole time and murmuring words of praise. When I couldn’t take it any longer and I was shaking with need, I begged for him to stop and be inside me, so that I could tell him everything I hated about him, but did he listen?

  No, he didn’t. He lifted me even higher, and even though he repeated himself and did the same exact kissing thing, this new location receiving his close attention caused me to shake and beg for him to never stop, or I would hate him.

  When I couldn’t stop myself from screaming, Luke slid me down his body and kissed my lips hungrily, letting go of my waist to embrace me in his arms. His tricky tongue entered my mouth at the same time his talented cock entered my vagina, and I know there’s nothing I love more in the Universe than this feeling of being filled by Luke Drake.

  So, as he rocked slowly inside me and filled me with love, I told him this absolute truth.

  He groaned my name softly and thrust harder, as I told him that he’s my man, my home, my life, and my world. He gentled, worshiping me with loving kisses, when I said I trusted him, knew him, believed in him, and loved all of him; the good, the bad, and especially, the ugly.

  Luke didn’t miss a stroke in his loving when I told him the only thing I hated about him was his friend named Veronica.

  Instead, he hugged me close and rolled with me on the bed while his deep laughter rang out and he rasped, “Jesus Christ, you’re amazing! Ronnie’s a transvestite that tells me where the big game is when I’m in town.”

  “Whatever, Handsome, but I hate not knowing why you’re out doing this when I’m waiting here! Dammit, Luke, the truth never scares me!” I cried out, panting for breath.

  He soothed me, “Shhh, I know, I know, nothing scares you, tough girl.”

  But then I was moaning his name in delight. I didn’t care if the big game meant illegally playing poker for huge sums of money or illegally hunting protected African wildlife on the brink of extinction, or even that it was 5:17 in the fucking morning because Luke was on top and has hooked my knees over his elbows. My boyfriend’s bringing it home by hitting that magic spot again that has me climaxing so ecstatically hard that I imploded tightly around him. He shouted out his pleasure while I saw stars in my head, Sparky lit up in a burst of dazzling brilliance, and I swore the ringing in my ears was fireworks exploding around us.

  “Anabel.”

  Something was shaking me and I pulled my shoulder away, muttering, “I said not before ten o’clock.”

  I heard a snort and burrowed into my hard pillow, swatting at the annoying sound.

  “Anabel, wake up. It’s Jack Banner on the phone.”

  I responded to the command in Luke’s voice and opened my eyes. The bedroom lamp was still on and the clock said its 5:55 AM. I was staring into Luke’s face from a few inches away, but not comprehending. We were lying on our sides entwined on the bed and the hard pillow I was trying to disappear into was Luke’s shoulder.

  Dazedly, I cannot seem to get it together until I hear Luke say into his phone, “Jack, hang on. I’m having a hard time waking up Anabel.” He smirked at something Jack said, but only replied, “Give me a second before I ask her.”

  When I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, Luke stared hard into my face and brought a finger up to his lips to shush me. He nodded when I closed my mouth and he arched a brow. I blinked and then nodded back.

  Luke touched his phone and his voice was serious. “You’re on speaker, Jack. Are you awake now, Anabel? Jack’s calling and needs to know if you’ve ever heard of the name Richard Webster?”

  Luke shook his head no. Even confused, I went along and replied, “What the hell? Jack, if this is your idea of payback for my midnight call, bring it on, buddy! We’re officially tangling!”

  Luke smiled in approval, but his eyes were coldly assessing while he listened intently for Jack’s response. I instinctively cuddled closer and Luke tightened his arms.

  Jack snapped, “This is a serious call, Junior.”

  “Well Geez, okay then. What was the name again?”

  Jack bit out, “Richard Webster.”

  Over the years, I’ve found the best method to pry any info out of Chief Jack was to goad him over the edge. It’s not pretty, but it worked.

  “Let me think. Hmm, I’ve heard of a Daniel Webster, a Noah Webster, and that little black kid named Webster. He was on that TV show about fifteen years ago where he was adopted by that white couple, and remember Punky Brewster…”

  Luke’s head was shaking and he was grinning, as Jack exploded, “Dammit, you little smart ass, I have a Wisconsin Chief of Police calling me at home! He’s asking me if I can give him a little help questioning one of my locals on a murder case!” He shouted louder, “Do you know why this is, Junior?”

  “Umm, because he’s a Chief and all good chiefs delegate their work?” I quipped, even as Luke and I exchange worried glances. Well, I was worried and Luke’s grin was gone. His face was hard and showed nothing. He’ was squeezing my hand, though, and my heart was sinking to my toes at where this conversation was leading.

  Jack’s voice lowered, as he tried to control his temper, but it quickly rose again and after about the fourth word, he was shouting when he said, “Because the last number dialed from the murder victim’s phone last night has been identified as belonging to the cell phone of one Anabel Axelrod of Northfield, Minnesota, the biggest pain in my ass!”

  “Wow Jack, that is mean, even for you!” I exclaimed, my voice full of hurt. On my dignity, I stated, “I don’t know any Punky Brewster and I’m sorry if he’s dead. I can’t answer why my phone was dialed. I certainly didn’t talk to anyone from Wisconsin last night. Now can I go back to sleep or do you want to yell at me some more, Chief Bully Banner?”

  There was silence for a few seconds on the other end of the speaker phone, and then Jack sighed loudly. “Ah, Junior, don’t be pissed. You know I didn’t mean you’re really the biggest pain.” Jack deadpanned, “I’m sure Larry Devens b
eats you hands down as a bigger pain in my ass.”

  I snorted at this, but for Luke’s sake, replied dryly, “Thanks, Jack, it’s good to know the town drunk bugs you more than me.”

  Jack grunted his version of a belly laugh and Luke was silently laughing now, too, but his voice only reflected concern when he asked, “Jack, do we have anything to worry about where this murder is concerned? Could it have anything to do with Ron Hansen coming after Anabel?”

  “What? Nah!” Jack immediately assured Luke. “From what the Chief said, it’s a crime of passion, a fight between lovers or something. The victim was gay and there was a knife, lots of blood, the whole nine yards. No, don’t worry. Wisconsin’s just following up on everything and I’ll let them know it was a wrong number or a misdial. Whatever.”

  “Okay, that’s good to know,” Luke replied.

  “Poor guy,” I murmured, and then yawned loudly. “Bye, Jack.”

  “Luke, stop by the house for a beer while you’re in town. I’ve also made some wild rice bratwurst that will knock your socks off. You won’t find brats like these back in that pussy city you call home.”

  Luke smiled at my rolling eyes while answering, “Will do, Chief.”

  “Junior, that matter we discussed has been taken care of, so go back to sleep.” He said this as if I’d been up pacing the floors. Then he admonished, “You need all your strength to keep up with Drake.”

  “Thanks, Jack, and ha ha ha.”

  Ending the call, Jack was delighted with himself and making that grunting sound again.

  Into the silence, I rolled away from Luke and snapped off the light. It was still dark out and I was exhausted. I hadn’t been sleeping when Jack called, but in a coma caused by my excruciatingly intense orgasm. That post-coming narcolepsy was starting to become a disturbing pattern, but I figured it was one condition that didn’t need curing.

  As I lay on my side, Luke pulled me into his arms. “What matter did Jack take care of for you?”

  Grateful for any reason to put off thinking about Dickie’s murder and the blood Jack mentioned so casually, I yawned widely before answering, “My new protégé’s being stalked by a dirty Faribault cop.”

 

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