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Mace: Lighthouse Security & Investigations

Page 17

by Maryann Jordan


  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that he’s never had a male to bond with. And I have to tell you, Mace, I can’t think of anyone in the world I’d rather him bond with than you.”

  Humbled and unable to come up with an appropriate response, he let his kiss do the talking. Pulling her close, he moved his mouth over hers, his tongue plunging into her warmth. Reluctantly dragging his lips away from hers, he kissed her forehead. “Come on, babe. Let’s go get some food.”

  Walking toward the tables, with her tucked tightly into his side, he caught the smiles headed his way and, with a light heart, returned them.

  Sylvie stood at the top of the stairs, a gentle smile on her face as she listened to Mace telling stories of pirates, lighthouse keepers, and derring-do. She could not help but wonder about the man who was now in her life…and her son’s life. Hearing the story come to an end, she walked into David’s room. The expression on his face, as he gazed up at Mace, warmed her heart. Bending down to give him a good night kiss after Mace had left the room, she was surprised when David wrapped his arms around her neck and held her close.

  “Mom, I really like it here. Do you think we can stay?”

  She had always prided herself on her honesty and, as she gently laid him back in bed, her hand smoothing his hair back from his face, she said, “I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know what the future holds for us. We have all our things back at our house. And all your friends…” He sighed heavily and her words died on her lips.

  His face fell for just a moment, then, he looked back up at her. “Even if we can’t stay here, do you think Mace will still be our friend?”

  “I hope so,” she whispered. “I truly hope so.”

  “He promised he’d teach me water safety. I wanted to learn their game, but he said I have to learn to swim first and then learn about water safety. Then, I can play their game with them.”

  His voice held such hope, her heart ached. Kissing him goodnight once more, she stepped out into the hall, startling when she saw Mace leaning against the wall.

  “Oh, I thought you went downstairs.”

  His intense, dark-eyed stare captured her and she stepped forward, lifting her hand to place it on his chest.

  His voice rumbled from deep inside, and he said, “We need to talk.”

  She sucked in a quick intake of breath, as if an icy bucket of water was just poured over her. Settling her features, she offered a slight smile that did not reach her eyes. “Of course.” Turning, she walked down the stairs in front of him, each step feeling as though she were walking toward an end.

  Once downstairs, he reached over and linked his fingers with hers, guiding her to the sofa. Surprised at the intimate gesture, she sat down, steeling herself for whatever he might say. She watched as he settled his bulk next to her, one arm resting on the back of the sofa, his hand on her shoulder. His other hand remained linked with hers.

  Mace had heard the uncertainty in Sylvie’s voice as she spoke to David and knew he wanted no misunderstanding between them. Holding her gaze, he sucked in a deep breath, and began.

  “I never told you that this house belonged to my grandparents.” He observed her eyes widen in surprise, but continued, “It was smaller then, the rooms cozier. My grandmother used to make quilts and she draped them over every chair, bed, and sofa. My grandfather would sit by the fireplace, smoke his pipe, and tell me stories of days gone by. Pirates and brigadiers. Sailors and soldiers. Lighthouse keepers and rescuers. He weaved tales into all of our evenings and I cannot tell you how many nights I spent here with them, entranced, entertained, and thinking this was the greatest house in the world.”

  She swallowed, finding her bravery, and said, “Mace, I’m sorry David asked if we could stay here. He’s just a little boy who doesn’t understand—”

  He shushed her and shook his head. “No, I think David understands just how special this place is.” Shifting slightly so that his hand could move through the silken tresses of her hair as he spoke, he said, “One of the reasons I loved this place was because my grandparents gave me a respite from my own home. My dad, a dissatisfied and angry man, spent his days at work and his nights yelling or drinking. We weren’t physically abused, not in the way that you’re probably thinking, but he let us know every day that being tied down with family was not what he wanted. Which is its own form of abuse. My sister and my mom found solace in each other but, for me? I spent as much time here as I could.”

  Sylvie could not help but squeeze the fingers that were linked with hers, suddenly struck with the thought of a dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy, desperately needing attention and finding it in his grandparents’ little house on the edge of the sea.

  “One night, my dad finally decided he had had enough and he left. I haven’t seen, heard from, or spoken to him since then. By then, my grandmother had passed away. I was around ten years old. My mom worked extra shifts, my sister got a part-time job, and we ended up moving in here. Grampa kept the downstairs bedroom, because of his rheumatism. Mom and sis shared one of the upstairs bedrooms, and I slept in the one that David’s in now.”

  They were silent for a moment, Mace lost in his remembrances and she struck by the similarities between him and David. Knowing he needed more time to talk, she remained silent, but smoothed her thumb over the calluses on his hand.

  “Of all the stories Grampa would tell me, I loved the ones about the lighthouse keepers and their bravery the most. In many ways, I suppose, I felt that Grampa had helped save us…certainly me, and it made an indelible impression on me.”

  She touched her fingers to his tattoo, unable to see it underneath his t-shirt, but having memorized it. “Lighthouse…your tattoo…and your business.”

  Nodding, he said, “After I got an Associates degree and joined the Army, I knew I wanted to go Special Forces. Worked hard, studied hard, did everything I could do, and it paid off. Years with the Army’s elite allowed me to be a rescuer of a different kind.” Grinning at the memory, he said, “Grampa said it was his proudest moment when he got to watch me graduate from Special Forces School.”

  Her hair slid through his fingers and Mace moved them upward to the back of her neck, still feeling the tension there. Rubbing slightly, he smiled as she closed her eyes for a second, her muscles relaxing under his ministrations. Watching as she opened her eyes again, focusing on him, he was struck once more with how right it was to have her in this house.

  “God, I loved my team. We twelve knew each other’s thoughts and movements. My captain, Tony Alvarez, now runs his own security firm, along with my former Medical Sergeant, Gabe Malloy and his twin brother, Vinny, and Jobe Delaro. Another member, Chief Warrant Officer Jack Bryant also runs a security and investigative business in Virginia.” Sighing heavily, he added, “It was fucked to have to leave them the way I did. I never got to say goodbye.”

  “What happened?” Sylvie asked, her voice full of concern as her fingers continued to move over Mace.

  “Got called out for a special assignment. Had to leave in the middle of the night. My team was given no information other than I had to be reassigned. Eventually they were told I’d been killed in action. There couldn’t be any loose ends, you know. I officially no longer existed.”

  She watched the play of emotions cross his face but was unable to discern each one. “Do you feel guilty? Did you have a choice?”

  Chuckling, he replied, “When you serve, you go where Uncle Sam says you go, no questions asked. So I did…continued serving, and met some of the men who now work for me now. But…it left a hole.”

  “And now? Now, that you are all civilians?”

  “I recently reached out to Jack and, through him, to Tony.” His brow furrowed as he added, “It was good to see him. Brought up a lot of memories…felt like I was finally able to do the right thing by him.” After a quiet moment, he shook his head and focused back on her face.

  “Tell me more about Lighthouse Security,” she requested. “I want to hear
more about you.”

  Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, “Well, Grampa died while I was still in the service and he willed his house and his land to me. Mom and sis stayed here while I was overseas.”

  “Where are they now?” As soon as the words left her lips, her heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of pain settling in his eyes.

  “Mom died several years ago. Cancer. By the time she finally made it to a doctor, she didn’t last long.” He shook his head, sadness settling over him, and said, “I’m not sure she ever really got over Dad leaving and then…” He lifted his hand from her fingers to scrub over his face. His thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose for a second before exhaling heavily.

  “Sis, unfortunately, had a boyfriend that wasn’t much better than Dad. She finally woke up to what kind of man he was and broke it off. I was overseas and had no idea how bad things had gotten. She moved to a new town hoping to get away from him, but he found her. He broke into her apartment one night and, in a drunken rage, hit her. She fell backward, hit her head, and died three days later from swelling on the brain.”

  “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry, Mace,” she gasped, reaching out, clutching his hand again, holding it close. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  He blew out another long breath, swallowing deeply. “I was overseas on a mission, unable to be contacted at first. All I could think about later was that I was working for my country, rescuing others, and wasn’t here to rescue my sister.”

  Quiet settled between them, comforting. After a moment, she stated, “This is why you rescue now.”

  Mace nodded, his attention no longer on his memories but on the woman sitting so close he could feel her breath wash over his face. “Yeah. When I got out, I determined to do everything I could to keep others safe. With our reputation, we get some very high-profile cases. But, for me, helping people who have no other avenue of help, is what I love.”

  The desire to touch him was overwhelming and Sylvie reached up to run her fingers over his forehead before sliding them into his hair. Slowly dragging them downward she cupped his jaw, her thumb running over his thick scruff. Holding his gaze, she said, “I understand, Mace. I really do. Rescuing is not just what you do… it’s who you are. I’m so grateful that you came to help David and me. I’m also grateful for the opportunity to share this house with you, for a little while, knowing that when the need is over, we’ll leave. Please don’t be bothered about what David asked…in a little boy’s mind, he doesn’t understand that this place is just a reprieve.”

  “No, babe,” Mace insisted. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is my house… not a safehouse.” Seeing her confusion, he explained, “I mean, yes, this is a safe place for you to be, but it’s not a safehouse. I’ve never brought anyone here before you. Not a rescue. Not a woman. You and David are not here because I had nowhere else to put you. You and David are here because this is where I want you to be.”

  He chuckled, watching understanding slowly ease her worry lines. “Now you’re getting it, sweetheart. I told you that we are at the beginning of us. And that us, includes David as well. So, when we’re sure the danger has passed, I’d still like you to be here with me.”

  Exhaling a long breath, she nodded slowly. “I’d like that too, Mace, although first, I have to get my life back on track.” He cocked his head to the side and she explained, “I need to think about a new job…David’s school and friends. I want the start of us to be based on real life…not my fear or need to be rescued.”

  As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded in agreement. He barely had time to brace as she suddenly threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly. He fell back on the couch, her body plastered on top of his, his arms banded around her middle. She moved her head just enough to latch onto his lips, all of the emotion she was feeling poured into her kiss.

  Their tongues tangled, vying for dominance, as they devoured each other. Sylvie’s breasts swelled and she felt the evidence of Mace’s impressive need against her stomach. Grinding herself on him, she grinned as he groaned into her mouth.

  He knifed off the sofa, her body cradled in his arms and stalked to the bedroom down the hall. Shutting the door with his foot, careful to not let it slam, he reached behind and pushed the lock button.

  “Looks like someone wants to have their wicked way with me,” she teased, her own eyes dark with lust. Her hands went to his belt, fumbling in their haste. Jerking his pants and boxers down, she sucked in a quick breath.

  He lifted an eyebrow in question, but she curled her fingers around his massive erection. Moving her hand up and down his silky-hard shaft, she felt tremors move through the rest of his body and grinned at the heady power she felt. He allowed her to push him back onto the bed and she straddled his legs. Her lips moved over the tip, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head.

  All rational thoughts dissolved into a lust-filled dream as Mace watched, and felt, Sylvie work magic with her mouth on his cock.

  Continuing to slide him deeper into her mouth, Sylvie slowly pumped the base with her hand while sucking on the top with her lips. Occasionally grazing her teeth over his flesh, he would hiss and jerk his hips upwards.

  He growled suddenly and, with a swiftness that belied his large body, he flipped them so that she was no longer on top, but flat on her back.

  “I come, I come in you.” He ripped the condom wrapper, but she recovered from her surprise quickly enough to take it from him. She rolled the latex over his cock, anxious to feel him deep inside of her.

  Once sheathed, he flipped them back and said, “Baby, you do whatever you want as long as you’re on top and in control.”

  Strangely shy, she bit her lip in hesitation. “Um…any particular way?”

  He laughed as he shook his head. “You on my dick, in any position you want? Hell, Sylvie, that’s a man’s dream come true.”

  Smiling, she lifted up slightly, placing the tip of his cock at her entrance. Slowly she lowered herself onto him, allowing her body to stretch as it fit his girth deep inside her wet channel.

  Mace fought to hold himself still, the desire to plunge upwards and take over almost impossible to hold back.

  Finally, fully seated, Sylvie glanced down at Mace’s tortured face and a giggle slipped out. His eyes jerked open with a pretend glare.

  “Never laugh when you’re riding a man’s dick,” he warned.

  His comment only made her smile wider. “I’m sorry, but you look like you’re in such pain.”

  He bucked his hips upwards and said, “Get moving, baby, and you can take my pain away.”

  She lifted on her knees, sliding up before plunging downward quickly, eliciting a moan from her and a hiss from him. Finding a rhythm, she rode him, reaching deep inside to the secret place that craved the friction only he could provide.

  Mace watched Sylvie’s long, dark hair fall forward, cascading about them. Her full, rosy-tipped breasts bounced as she lifted and plunged. His fingers grasped her hips, guiding her movements.

  She began to tire and leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. Seeing her fatigue, he took over, plunging upward while holding her hips in place.

  He could tell she was close and as she bent forward, he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and nipping. She threw her head back as the orgasm ripped through her, sending jolts to every extremity. He followed closely, thrusting as deep as he could reach, until every drop was poured into her.

  She flopped onto his chest, her slight weight barely causing a grunt to escape his lips. She started to slide off his body but he clamped his arms tighter, holding her in place.

  They lay for several minutes, sated and neither willing or able to speak. As consciousness slowly dawned, Sylvie was aware of one of Mace’s hands tracing soft patterns on her ass while the other hand rubbed up and down her spine. The movement was soothing, giving her already relax
ed body a sense of weightlessness.

  Finally, lifting her head, she watched as his lips curved into a grin.

  “Hey,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Hey, back,” she replied, her grin matching his.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m perfect,” she confessed.

  “Yeah. Yeah, you are.” He sighed, adding, “I don’t want to move, but I gotta take care of the condom.”

  She allowed him to roll her to one side before he rolled to the other and moved out of bed. Disappearing into the bathroom, he quickly came back and crawled under the covers with her.

  Before losing her nerve, she said, “I’m on the pill.” Seeing his wide eyes, she rushed, “You’re the only man I’ve been with in eight years—”

  “I’m clean,” he interrupted, “and can show you the test results. But, if you want, I can get tested again—”

  “I trust you.”

  Mace stared into her eyes, once more humbled by her trust. Enveloping her in his arms, cradling her head on his muscular chest, they lay for several minutes, neither saying a word, just letting the blissful afterglow move across them.

  21

  “That’s fucking good news, man,” Mace said, speaking to Roberto on speakerphone a few days later in the compound.

  “I thought you’d like that. So, as it stands right now, Thomas Perdue has been identified as Charles’ murderer, based on DNA from skin that was under Charles’ fingernails. When Thomas dumped his body, he didn’t bother to remove any traces of their altercation. Thomas’ body also had scratch marks on it, with Charles’ DNA. As to who murdered Thomas, the evidence is piling up that it was Douglas and my guess is that it was directed by Richard. The NSEG is facing indictments for money laundering, fraud, and whatever else the acting State Attorney can throw at them.”

 

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