by J. J. McAvoy
“I love you,” I whispered once my body relaxed.
“And I you. Always,” she said softly. Reaching up, I brushed the tears that had built up in the corners of her eyes.
“You don’t have to cry every time this happens,” I said.
She frowned her at me, her bottom lip sticking out. “I don’t mean to. But I know it’s painful for you, and knowing I can’t do anything frustrates me so much.”
Snickering, I closed my eyes, enjoying her hands in my hair.
“Amelia, you don’t do nothing … you do everything.”
When she didn’t reply, I opened my eyes again to her staring at me with a mixture of lust and love in her eyes.
“It’s late. Austin left. Let’s go to bed,” she said. I sat up, taking her hand and allowing her to lead me…anywhere. I didn’t care.
When we got to the bedroom, she turned back to me. She pushed off my jacket, letting it fall to the ground with a thud. Her hands grazed my stomach as she lifted off my shirt, or at least tried to. She stepped on her tiptoes, reaching as high as she could, until I pulled it the rest of the way off, throwing it to the ground.
She kissed both sides my chest, undoing my belt faster than I thought possible. Softly, she kissed down the center of my abs.
“Ahh…” My lips parted when she grabbed my cock, freeing it from my boxers. With each stroke, I became harder in her hands, and completely breathless.
“Amelia …” I hissed as she licked the tip of my cock, and like the evil vixen she was, she grinned, glancing back up at me. Again she licked down the length of me painfully slowly, and I was powerless to do anything but watch. Her beautiful pink tongue swirled around my head over and over and over again, my cock twitching eagerly as she tortured me. Again her tongue ran down the side of me, until she got to my balls. She kissed them before making her way back up.
“Amelia.”
“Yes?” she answered. Before I could reply, she took as much of me as she could into her wet mouth.
Fuck. My eyes closed and my head tilted back as she sucked hard ... fuck … shit… I can’t. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I thrust forward once, and she grabbed the back of my knees, welcoming it.
She was going to killing me.
When I looked down at her, I could tell she was enjoying—no, loving—the fact that I had no words, only grunts and moans coming from my lips as she matched my pace with each thrust between her beautiful lips. The walls of her mouth closed in around me. If she didn’t stop, I was going to.
“Amelia, I’m—”
Ignoring me, she took my balls, massaging them with one hand and speeding up. As she did, my vision blurred. A shiver went up and down my spine as my toes curled and my grip on her hair tightened.
“Fucking … Christ!” I grunted as I came, and like she was trying to torture me, she swallowed—every drop.
“I’m never going to forget that face,” she giggled, kissing the tip of my dick before standing up again. And I still couldn’t speak.
Proud of herself, she pushed me back, and I fell like a ton of bricks onto the bed.
“Wait here,” she demanded, and I couldn’t think of where else I would rather be but right here, my chest rising and falling as I tried to relax. I kicked off my shoes and the rest of my clothes.
“Where did you go tonight?” I asked when it felt like my heart was no longer trying to escape from my chest. However, she didn’t answer.
“Amelia?”
“Yes, Mr. Sloan?” she said, stepping out of the bathroom.
She stood wearing sheer black lingerie … her hard nipples completely on display for me to see.
I need her.
I need to be inside her.
I need to hear her moan my name.
It was the only three things that crossed my mind, and it was more than enough to get me up again.
Amelia
The moment I stepped out of the bathroom, he said nothing, only walked over to me, picked me up, and threw me onto the bed like some caveman—and I loved every fucking moment of it. He kissed my neck and the top of my chest, undoing the tie holding the front of my lingerie closed.
All that effort to put it on, and it was off of me in a second as he cupped my breasts and licked circles around my nipples before taking one into his mouth, pinching it between his teeth. His other hand reached over to pinch the other one, twisting it as I held back the moan trying to escape my lips. Reaching up, I grab his hair again, my legs wrapping around him. As he moved from my nipple to my mouth, our tongues continue to roll in wet, uncoordinated, languid kisses.
His hand worked its way between my thighs, rubbing my pussy as I moaned into his mouth.
“Oh…” I gasped, our lips not even an inch apart. He didn’t wait and slid two fingers in me.
He smirked, his eyes shining with lust only for me.
“Noah,” I whimpered, rocking against his hand. I wanted more than his hands.
“Yes, Ms. London?” he mocked me. Damn him. “God, your pussy is already so wet for me, baby.”
I had planned on being seductive, making him beg for me, but it was all shot to hell. I couldn’t fucking think straight.
“I need you,” I whispered.
“Beg me.”
“Goddamn it, Noah!”
Snickering, he pulled his fingers from me and brought his hand to my lips and without hesitation, I tasted myself on his fingertips. His eyes glazed over. Spreading my thighs, he rubbed the tip of his cock on my clit slowly before thrusting into me so hard I rose off the bed.
“Yes!” I cried out. He didn’t stop, pounding over and over again at the same wonderfully torturous pace.
“Oh,” I moaned. He kissed me, biting my bottom lip before repeating his agonizing routine. Grabbing my hips, he tilted me forward to bring me closer—if fucking possible—to him. All I could hear was our moans mixed in with the sound of our bodies slapping together. I lifted my leg up onto his shoulder as I gripped the bed, my toes curling with each fuck, the sweat rolling off his skin and onto mine.
No matter how many times we fucked like this, I would never forget how sexy he made me feel, how hot my skin became when I was with him, and most importantly, how no matter what, I always wanted more of him.
Rough.
Passionate.
Sinful.
I craved it all.
I craved Noah Sloan to the point of addiction.
Bringing my leg down, I pushed against his chest, locking my legs just above his ass until we flipped over, allowing me to ride on top of him. He grabbed my breasts as they bounced, and he sat up to bite them.
I can’t … I … “Noah!” I cried as came. Pleasure, only pleasure, vibrated through my body so hard that I slumped over onto his chest.
“No you don’t,” he hissed, flipping me over onto my stomach. He pulled out for only a second before grabbing my hips and ramming himself into my ass.
“Fuck!” Holding on to the sheets below me, I took it, each beautiful, long thrust, the bed frame slamming into the wall.
“Yes….Ohhh…”
His hand on my neck, his body over mine, he whispered in short, shallow breaths, “You’re mine.”
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Say it.”
“I’m … I’m … fuck, Noah!”
“Say it.”
“I’m fucking yours!” I cried out.
He pace quickened as he grabbed my hips. “Come with me baby.”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
“Noah!”
“Shit … Amelia!” he grunted as he came.
Our bodies slowed until he and I both collapsed onto the bed, trying to catch our breath.
“You’re … I have no words,” he said when he pulled out of me and rolled over on his side. Smiling, I cuddled up beside him, his arm wrapping around me.
“Right back at you.”
He glanced down at me and kissed my forehead.
As he rested his head back against the
pillows, I waited. After the sex we just had, it wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep. I was spent, too. However, the only way I was going to get away with from him for a few moments tonight was with him knocked out.
“Umm,” he sighed, his grip on me loosening up.
Sitting up, I ran my hand over his face and sat there watching him as he feel deeper asleep. I felt bad not telling him the whole truth. But he did the same thing to me time and time again, all because he wanted to keep me safe.
When he was snoring softly, I got out of bed, pulling the sheet over him as I headed to the bathroom.
In the mirror, I could see light bruises, marks from his hands, that I was sure would look worse in the morning. However, I took them with pride.
I took a quick shower just to rinse off. I grabbed a pair of shorts and a tank top along with a robe. Peeking my head out the door, I saw that he had shifted onto his side, but was still sleeping. Closing the door behind me, I left our room, making sure to grab the suite key as I did, before exiting down the hall and stopping in front of another door.
It was only 1 a.m., and knowing him, he would most likely still be awake for at least another hour.
I knocked loudly once, and sure enough, the door opened. Austin stared at me wide-eyed and confused. For the first time since I had met him, I saw him dressed casually, with a toothbrush in his mouth.
“Amelia?”
“I need your help, and Noah can’t know about it until afterward.”
He paused for a second before opening the door for me to come in.
Chapter Seven
Amelia
“You want to do what?” he snapped like I was insane. But then again, I bet insane people rarely asked favors like this.
“I want you to help me steal my mother’s body from Bo. Where did I lose you?” I answered, taking a seat on his couch. His room was only slightly smaller than ours and positioned the opposite way.
He opened his mouth to speak. Then stopped, then opened it again and asked, “I … there … What the hell, Amelia?”
“Bo came to me¸” I confessed, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “Esther received the W.E.W.A. award last night, and I accepted in her stead.”
“I just found out. It was the right move going. But how the hell did you meet Bo there?” he asked, frowning as he took a seat across from me.
“Not there. In the parking lot. He was hiding in the back of the Escalade we were driving. He had a gun, Austin, and threatened me.”
“He what?” he snapped, rising to his feet, already reaching for his phone.
“Austin, no. Listen to me.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” he said, ignoring me as he dialed.
Getting up, I reached over for the phone, ending the call before it was even made. “Listen to me! I know you don’t think I’m up to this … whatever this is … but I am. And I came to you because I have a plan, and I need your help to see it through, not because I need you to protect me! So can you listen to me or not!”
“Go on,” he nodded, somewhat stunned as I sat back down.
“Like I was saying, Bo threatened me, but in all honesty, I didn’t care. It’s what he wanted that bothered me—”
“He wants Noah to help get Frank out of the country.”
I glared at him, crossing my arms.
“Sorry.” He raised his hands in defense, leaning back.
“Anyway, yes, he wants Noah to help his father escape, and if he doesn’t, then Bo will expose everything, making sure I get pinned for most of it.” As I should, honestly. “But if Noah does that, he’s fucked when it comes to the Callahans. If they could so easily figure out where our shoot was and change the venue so Noah could have a one-on-one chat, they wouldn’t just forgive him for letting Frank go. And truthfully … I … I want Frank dead. No,” I paused, not because it was hard, but because I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted it. “I need him gone, Austin. I need Noah to be free of him—of everything that’s holding him back. And the closer I get to him, the more I realize it’s family. It sucks. I wish it wasn’t true. But it is. Frank and Bo are anchors. The only thing stopping that is Esther, which is why we are going to make it look like she died in a tragic accident.”
“Can I speak now?” he asked, raising his hand.
Sighing, I nodded, “Yes, you can speak.”
“I understand. Believe me, I do. But how do you plan on making a three-month-old corpse look like it died in an accident? Secondly, I have no idea where she is. I left it to Bo.”
I paused for a second. “You guys said you she would reappear over New Year’s. What were you thinking?”
“There is this open murder investigation —”
“Never mind,” I held my hand up, not wanting to hear about it. “It doesn’t matter, because I thought about it. When I was fourteen, I was on the set of a movie called Street Kings. One of the mechanics was explaining the stunts and how they didn’t want me anywhere near the car when it exploded because it had the ability burn a body to the point of no recognition.”
“A car accident? Which causes the car to explode? Amelia, this isn’t like the movies. Cars just don’t explode—”
“Not explode, but burn intensely. One collision, a strong enough one that ruptures an already weak fuel tank. It takes anywhere from thirty seconds to a minute for the actual car to spark up to where it seems like it is exploding. But it’s just enough to keep people at bay and for Esther to burn through.” When it came to memorization, the ins and outs of movies, I was the best. And this scene I remembered perfectly. I remember the director wanting it to look realistic, the makes and models of all the cars they tested. This could work. This would work. There was only one catch.
“Okay. Let’s say the car burns like you want it to. How will you do the collision?”
I smiled, and I knew he understood what I meant.
“No. Amelia. No—”
“I’m going to be driving.”
“Have you lost your mind? This plan is half-cocked as it is. I can see dozen of ways this could go wrong. Hell, you could be pulled over by the police before you even get to crash! Let alone the state you’ll be in afterward—”
“Exactly. If I’m involved, no one would even think I had anything to do with it. Bo will lose the only card he has—”
“I’m not asking for your permission. I’m letting you know what I am planning to do. The only reason why I came to you is because I need you to fill Noah’s schedule so he’ll be too busy to check in with me. But if I have to, I will lie and go out on my own.”
“You don’t even know where Esther is.”
He needed to stop underestimating me. Lifting my phone from my pocket, I held it up for him to see. “When I was a teenager, Esther gave me these matching necklaces, not knowing a sponsor had given me a ring from the same collection. It has a GPS locator on it. When Bo came to see me, I slipped the ring into his jacket pocket. With this little handy dandy app, I can not only see where he went, but if he came next to any one of my contacts. Esther died wearing that necklace. She stayed in one spot for nine hours before the battery died. Which means…”
“You know where she is,” he groaned, leaning back against the chair. “Noah will kill me—”
“Not, at least, until after he is safer. And I’ll beg him not to.”
“Thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes, but the corner of his lip turned up. “You were right. You are nothing like you once were.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. So are you in or out?”
“Let me see the address,” he demanded.
“You’ll do it without me.”
“Amelia,” he said sternly with his hand out. Sighing, I handed it to him. He stared at it for a long time. The corner of his lip turned up into a small smile. “I’m in. Give me some time to make a few calls and work out everything. The only way this works is if Bo doesn’t have time to move her and the car works exactly the way we need it to.”
“Noah d
oes not hear a word of this,” I repeated, taking the phone back.
He nodded.
I knew this was going to get ugly. I just prayed it worked despite that.
It is going to work. There is no plan B.
Chapter Eight
Noah
There were a few things I hated about Chicago: corrupt politicians, gang violence, the extreme weather, my father, the mystifyingly unclear parking regulations. However, at the very top of that list was none other than the Chicago PD.
It was 5 a.m. Five fucking a.m. I didn’t even know they were capable of being up and alert at 5 a.m. when they barely gave a fuck when the sun was up as it was.
“Mr. Sloan.”
I glared at the idiot in front of me, reaching to the dresser table for my pack of cigarettes. It was only when I had I blown the smoke from my nose that I relaxed enough to actually go hear them out since they had wasted their time coming to my suite.
“What can I do for Chicago’s finest?” I asked, kicking my foot up onto the table. “After all, I’ve been here for twenty-four hours. Thank you for restraining yourselves from arresting and slapping bullshit charges on me like the last time I was here. How’s Mallory?”
The two of them tensed.
Coughing, the female, whose blonde hair was pulled back so tight I wasn’t sure how she could move her head, moved to take a seat. “Mr. Sloan—”
“Ah no,” I snapped my fingers at her. “Guests sit down. You are not a guest. I do not want you comfortable, we are not friends, and hell, I have half a mind to tell you to get the fuck out.”
“Noah,” Austin spoke up from behind me. The only reason I was even doing this shit was because he had pulled me out of bed.
“Mr. Sloan, would you rather do this downtown? Because I can—”