SpeakeasySweetheart
Page 7
Blaze glanced at her. “A caporegime—that’s a ranking member of the Mafia. He say who it was?”
“No. But Louella said Cornell is in debt to a guy called Lucky Luciano.”
Blaze stopped short and let out a low whistle. “No kidding?”
Sasha shook her head. “That was right before h-he walked in and—” Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves. It was over. She hadn’t fallen.
“Everything is all right, sweetheart.”
Blaze tilted her head up and kissed her. Desire shot along her veins, hot and quick. Almost too quick. Wasn’t she in shock? But God, his kiss felt good. Sasha reached up, entwining her hands around his neck.
He smiled against her lips. “Hold that thought, baby. We really should get the hell out of here.”
Sasha muttered something about raiding the alcohol first, and Blaze laughed. “I have a small bottle of bourbon at home if necessary. For medicinal purposes, of course.”
When was Prohibition supposed to end? Sasha couldn’t remember and it wasn’t like she could Google the answer. Mentally, she shrugged. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t very important. Slightly less shakily, she followed Blaze down the stairs, moving quietly and cautiously.
Blaze threw his arm out just before they entered the main room. “Someone’s in there,” he mouthed.
Sasha froze as he inched around the corner. Was Cornell still there? She didn’t relax even as Blaze motioned her forward.
“Are you all right?” Blaze was asking.
“He—killed her.” Louella’s voice, so broken she could barely comprehend the words. “My f-fault—thought he just wanted to ask her a few questions.”
It was hard to be angry in the face of such remorse. Sasha came around the corner, finding Blaze standing disapprovingly over Louella, who was sitting disconsolately on the edge of the stage. The latter looked up in shock, crossing herself hastily.
“I’m not a ghost,” Sasha said wryly.
Louella gulped. “I’m real sorry. I thought the boss had done for you.”
“He tried,” Blaze said ominously. “Where did he go?”
“He ran down the stairs about five minutes ago and said he had killed the spy. I only came back in to see if I could get some money for my train fare. I’m leavin’ this city for good.”
“We’re the only ones here?” Blaze asked skeptically.
“Yeah. His second-in-command quit last night. Everyone’s bailin’ on him. He’s crazy these days.”
Now that she wasn’t in a life-and-death situation, Sasha took the time to look around the club. Broken glass crunched under her feet as she walked to the bar. There was no alcohol left—actually, there wasn’t much of anything left.
Except the door back to the twenty-first century.
Louella got to her feet, wiping her face. “I best be going, I guess. I’m real sorry for how this turned out.”
“Where are you headed?” Sasha asked.
“Maine. I got me a sweetheart up there. Sam Brown. I only came to the city to try to earn enough to get married. He’s studying and don’t make much. I—I never meant to turn to prostitution but I was so desperate.”
The strange familiarity niggled at Sasha once again. Her eyes, the high cheekbones… Where had she seen them before?
“Anyhow, I—I’ll be leaving now.” Louella said.
“Wait.” Sasha reached into her pocket for the money she’d earned the previous day. “Take this.”
Louella hesitated, shaking her head. “After what I did—I don’t deserve to accept a penny.”
“Go on,” Blaze said gruffly, holding out a neatly folded bill. “Take this as well. It’ll buy you train fare with some left over for your wedding.”
The blonde pocketed the money, tears in her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough. Someday I’ll have an opportunity to repay you. I promise.”
When they were alone, Sasha stepped onto the stage, briefly reliving the moment she’d first seen Blaze. She would never have guessed she’d fall in love with such a handsome man.
If they were going to have an actual relationship, she wanted to be entirely truthful with him.
“I need to show you something,” she told him. “Backstage.”
Chapter Seven
Sensing Sasha took this issue very seriously, Blaze didn’t protest as she led him behind the curtain. He looked around sharply. So this was where Cornell had made his money. The man had done well for himself over the years, cheating bootleggers and running facilities for prostitutes.
It had left him deranged, drunk on power. Not for the first time, Blaze suspected Cornell was some sort of drug addict. If not, how had his profits disappeared so quickly?
“In here.” Sasha’s voice brought him back to the present.
“A dressing room?”
“Yes.” Her voice was tense. “This is where I came in.”
He examined the wall she was pointing at. “Is there a secret door? I don’t see anything.”
“You don’t?” Her lips parted in surprise.
“I see a wall I can fuck you against,” he amended.
“Blaze!” Blue-green eyes flickered in confusion. “You really don’t see anything there?”
“No.” He reached out and patted the smooth wall. Maybe Cornell had plastered over some sort of secret door. “You ready to go, baby? Sticking around here is starting to make me nervous.”
“Speaking of sticking around, do you… I mean, should I stay with you?”
“Do you want to go?” The thought of her leaving pained him.
“Well, we’ve only known each other for a few days….” She trailed off uncertainly, fiddling with her hair. “I mean, unless you believe in love at first sight.”
“I do.” Blaze waited a beat. “Do you?”
“I didn’t until I met you,” she said.
“Well then, it’s settled. We can get married in the local church, if you don’t mind an over-the-top ceremony and my parents getting involved. Or if you want to wait, we can do that.”
“Is that a proposal?”
He grinned. “I’m not going to give you a proper proposal inside a speakeasy, baby. You’ll get one when you least expect it. Now come on, we really need to get out of here.”
Taking one last look at the wall, Sasha slipped her hand into his. He led her from the ruined club, his breath catching in his throat as he realized how close he’d been to losing her. He slipped his arm across her shoulders, relishing her gasp as his hand brushed across her breasts.
Blaze didn’t let himself relax until they were in a cab speeding away from Cornell’s club. A small part of him regretted his enemy’s escape. The rest of him concentrated on cherishing the woman at his side.
She was recovering from her ordeal, a sparkle returning to her eyes as she snuggled against him. Were it not for the presence of the driver, Blaze would take her right then and there. His need for her was undeniably strong, his erection chafing at each pothole in the road.
Once they were safely inside, he immediately pinned Sasha against the wall, luxuriating in the feel of her smooth skin against his palms. “I wish I could have done this back at the club,” he said.
She giggled. “We would have fallen through the door.”
“Your invisible door.” He concentrated on unbuttoning her blouse. The waiting had become sheer torture.
“It wasn’t invisible.” She sucked in a breath as he bent to kiss her breast, lapping one nipple with his tongue. “Oh—that feels good. I can’t believe you didn’t see the door.”
He straightened, tossing the blouse aside. “Baby, a purple elephant could have deposited you in that speakeasy. All I care about is you. Us.”
She undid his trousers, providing temporary relief as his cock sprang into her hand. “I would think a purple elephant might be worth a lot of money.”
“I have all the money I need. It’s happiness I want.”
He bent his head to kiss her, enjoying the heat of her
lips, the way she opened for his tongue. Without breaking it off, he slid her skirt and underwear down. They fell to her ankles and she kicked the garments away, completely naked before him. Keeping his eyes on her luscious body, he unrolled a condom.
“I need you now,” he told her.
“Here?” She squeaked as he braced her against the wall, lifting both thighs up and apart. “Blaze!”
“Let me guess—you’ve never done this before either.”
“No,” she said.
“Good. I like teaching you new things.”
Her gasp as he penetrated her was music to his ears. He took her hard and fast, keeping her thighs wide apart as she clung to his neck, whimpering. He loved hearing her orgasm, her wild, loud cries stimulating him beyond belief. He knew the moment she came, her pussy clamping down hard as she shuddered.
He wanted to draw the moment out but he couldn’t hold on any longer. She was too tantalizing, too damn sexy. His shout mingled with her cries, and for a long moment he was content to merely hold her, their panting slowly subsiding.
Just when Sasha thought she was beginning to recover, his cock jerked inside her. Her eyes widened. “Again?”
“It’s been some time since I indulged in sex. I think I have some making up to do.”
“As long as it’s with me.” She still couldn’t quite get over the conversation they’d had earlier. He wanted to marry her?
“Trust me, sweetheart. I’ll be proposing as soon as I buy you an appropriate ring.”
He swept her over to the bed, pinning her beneath him. She ran her hands across his skin, tugging at his clothing until he obligingly shucked it all off. God, they’d been so desperate for sex that he hadn’t even undressed all the way. She was unused to that, having always meticulously stripped and prepared herself just the way her ex liked. This was rawer, far more sexy.
Blaze wanted her just the way she was. His eyes were hooded as he drank in the sight of her naked body, tracing her cheeks with one hand. “There’s no need to blush, baby. I like looking at you.”
Sasha cursed her fair complexion. “I like looking at you too. I’m just not used to so much openness.”
“Tell me how you want me to make love to you,” he said.
“I’m not used to that, either!”
“Get used to it.” He grinned.
“Fine. Um. How about a new position?”
She held her breath—but he didn’t blink an eye. “Get on your hands and knees.”
Holy crap. He was serious about pleasing her. She could get used to this.
His cock filled her, driving deep—deeper than she expected. He held her hips steady, slipping one hand underneath, unerringly finding her clit. The sudden intense burst of pleasure nearly arced her off the bed.
Blaze was pushing all her buttons, driving her inexorably into orgasm after orgasm. She had no idea how many times she succumbed, or quite how she got into his arms afterward. She only knew that she felt safe, loved and thoroughly pleasured.
Cornell was the only blotch on this happiness. The memory of his twisted smile and smarmy voice made her shudder.
“What is it?” Blaze asked.
“I was thinking about Cornell. How did you find me, anyway? I thought I was toast.”
“Toast?”
Evidently whatever powers had sent her through the door hadn’t stripped away everything that didn’t pertain to the Roaring Twenties. She’d have to test her boundaries someday, but right now there were more important things to tend to.
“I thought I was dead,” she said. “He was really crazy.”
“He’s always been a little bit like that. Rumor has it he’s been worse lately. Paranoid. Paddy thinks he might be on drugs.”
“Paddy?” A sudden thought occurred to her. “You aren’t in the mafia, are you?”
Blaze laughed. “No, honey. I give this fellow a few bucks here and there for information. He’s the one I went out to meet a few nights ago. He told me you were in danger.”
“I’ll still be in danger as long as Cornell is free.”
“Yes.” He shifted, looking deep into her eyes. “Will you trust me to keep you safe?”
“Do you still need to get your revenge?” Unable to meet his gaze any longer, she stared at his chest. His hair there was dark too. She couldn’t resist running a finger through the fine curls.
She didn’t want to come between Blaze and his revenge. But she couldn’t face spending evenings all alone, waiting for him to safely come back to her.
On the other hand, would living on her own in the twenties be worse than if she fled back to her own time? Arguably, it would be better—the music certainly was more tolerable. With her skills as a singer, she might even get a gig on Broadway.
“I would love nothing more than to see Cornell in jail or dead.” Blaze spoke after a lengthy minute of silence. “But he’s not as important to me as you are.”
Relieved, she rested her cheek against his chest. “You’re important to me too.”
“I’m glad, baby. But don’t fall asleep on me now.”
“Mmm. Why not?”
“I’d like to take you to meet my parents.”
“Right now?” She jumped up in a panic. “I need to take a bath. I need to do my hair.”
“Go right ahead. We still have a few hours ’til dinner.”
As she soaped herself in a warm bath, Blaze lounged in the doorway, watching her possessively. “How would you like to eat out tonight?”
“With your parents?”
He nodded. “They always eat at our restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen on a Monday night. Come to think of it, I can give a few of our Coney Island prizes to Dougal for the kid.”
“That’ll give us an excuse to win more,” she said. She couldn’t help but smile at the boyish grin that creased his face. She’d never had so much fun with…with anyone, really. Living with the threat of a whackaloon speakeasy owner in the same city was a small price to pay for this kind of happiness.
An hour later, hair braided into semi-submission, dressed in a skirt and a conservative blouse, she slid into the front seat of Blaze’s Cadillac. “I think this is the first time we’ve not been on the verge of ripping each other’s clothes off in here.”
“I figured I would save that for the way back,” he said.
The car chugged along in the New York traffic, giving Sasha ample opportunity to look around. It was going to be heaven having all these bakeries and delicatessens surrounding her.
Smoke curled into the air, growing thicker and darker as they continued onward. Blaze frowned, speeding up.
“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked.
“If I’m not mistaken, that pillar of smoke is coming from Cornell’s club.”
Sasha froze. If the speakeasy was burning, so was her way back. It was one thing to decide not to go back through. To have the decision entirely out of her hands was daunting.
She stole a sideways glance at Blaze. Still, was it really that bad? This way, she wouldn’t be tempted to flee if they ever had a really bad fight. If it was gone, it was gone and that was it.
“It’s the club.” Blaze pulled over to the curb and they both watched the flames burn from across the street. One of the soot-dusted figures near the bucket brigade detached himself and came over to the car.
“Paddy.” Blaze rolled down the window. “What’s happening?”
“I was just about to go lookin’ for ya. Cornell’s being held by some capo in Little Italy. I could get you in if ya want first crack at him?”
“Not interested. Thanks all the same.”
“No kiddin’?” Paddy touched his hat. “Won’t be much of him left soon. Well, enjoy your night.”
As the man strolled off, Sasha looked up at Blaze. “Are you all right?”
He nodded slowly. “I used to think this moment would bring me great joy. But I don’t feel anything. Only relief that it’s finally over.”
Sasha reached out, taking his larger hand
in both of hers. The squeal of fire engines neared but the inferno was raging out of control now. There was no way the club could be saved. Eventually Blaze stirred, starting the engine again. He looked over at her before they drove off.
“Your invisible door is going to be destroyed.”
“I don’t care,” she said, squeezing his hand. As she spoke, she knew it was the truth. “Let it burn.”
About Clare Murray
Clare Murray was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, living aboard a boat with her parents until the age of three. She has a degree in Journalism and has worked in libraries in both California and London. In 2006 she moved to England, where she now lives happily with her husband and two children.
Clare welcomes comments from readers. You can find her email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Clare Murray
Huntress Unleashed
Quarter-Life Fling
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Speakeasy Sweetheart
ISBN 9781419991097
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Speakeasy Sweetheart Copyright © 2014 Clare Murray
Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover design by Dar Albert
Cover photography by periodimages.com
Electronic book publication January 2014
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