Madame Moll (Gun Moll Book 3)

by Bethany-Kris

  Mac swore he could feel the shivers of anticipation already beginning to race through Melina’s body, even through her sequined dress. He didn’t blame her—already, he was counting the steps left to the elevator, and then the floors between the bottom and their suite. Too many, he decided.

  He was a bit impatient.

  “Top floor,” Mac said as they slid into the elevator.

  He would run down to the car to get their bags after.

  Melina hit the appropriate button, and the doors slid closed, leaving them alone in the elevator before another guest could slide in with them. “I’m starting to wonder what kept you from booking the suite for the whole weekend.”

  “Because I know my wife,” Mac murmured, his hand sliding down from her back to her pert ass. He gave her backside a pat. His fingers slipped up under the hem of the dress, so he could slide the tips along her inner thighs. Smooth and warm skin met his fingertips, and he grinned sinfully as she shot him a look over her shoulder. “By tomorrow morning, you’ll be happy and sweet, but also ready to go home. A phone call won’t be enough. You’ll have to see Marquise, touch him …” Mac chuckled, adding, “Smell him, probably.”

  That was some weird mom shit he didn’t understand, but on more than one occasion, he had caught his wife sniffing their son’s head like it was some kind of drug.

  Melina shrugged. “Probably.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Can’t you at least wait until we get inside the suite?”

  Mac’s fingers traveled higher between her thighs under her dress, coming in contact with thin lace covering her damp center. Heat met his fingertips, and another one of those shivers raced through his wife as he stroked her over her panties. “No, not really.”

  “God, you are …”

  “Going crazy?” Mac offered.

  “Something,” she said.

  The faintness in her tone had him laughing deeply under his breath, and he knew then that his stroking, as light and teasing as it was, was definitely doing something for her. If only he felt like giving the camera up above their heads a bit of a show, he bet he could get his wife looking all kinds of crazy for the security people.

  Mac held back.

  But only barely.

  “Something crazy,” Melina added when the elevator shifted a second before the door opened to their floor.

  She tossed him a sly wink over her shoulder as she stepped out into the hall, snatching the keycard from his hand and not even bothering to wait for him to follow. Mac shook his head, and stuffed his hands into his pockets to resist the urge to grab hold of his wife and drag her back where he could get his hands back between her beautiful thighs.

  A few more steps, he told himself. Not long now.

  He could wait a few more steps.

  Surely.

  Mac was lying to himself.

  Melina had only managed to stop in front of their room, and slid the keycard into the slot before Mac was dragging the zipper of her dress all the way down. He split the fabric open as his hand dove back between her thighs. All he could see was more skin, and the curve of her ass covered by lace. Her breathless laugh filled the quiet, dark hallway before she stumbled into the room, and he followed, kicking the door closed with a loud slam behind them.

  Mac didn’t waste a bit of time after that. He finally had his wife alone, almost naked, and there was a guarantee of no interruptions.

  Hell yes.

  “You are impatient,” Melina teased.

  Mac shut her taunting up with a hard kiss, using her momentary distraction to his benefit to yank her dress down over her shoulders and hips until it pooled at her feet. He’d been playing with her silky hair all night, but not the way he liked, not the way he really wanted to. He fisted those soft strands at the nape of her neck to keep her in place as he explored the sweet heat of her mouth, taking away all her breath and soaking her in as his other hand roved down over her body.

  Pretty lace covered her breasts, and her skin heated under his touch. He dragged his hand lower until he could grab a handful of her ass, too. Mac brought his wife in closer, needing to taste more of her, wanting to touch more of her.

  He always wanted more of her.

  Mac dotted kisses along his wife’s jaw, feeling her smile grow sinful under his lips. “There’s a stand right behind you, doll, do me a favor and bend over it for a few minutes.”

  It wasn’t even a request.

  Melina’s brow rose. “Isn’t there a bed in here?”

  “We’ll get there.”

  Eventually, he held back from adding.

  Mac fully intended on dragging this night out as long as he possibly could. It had been far too long since he had his wife, since he had loved her properly, and he didn’t want to waste a single moment of it.

  When Melina didn’t react as quickly as Mac wanted her to, he was the one to turn her around, his hand snapping against the curve of her backside just hard enough to make her gasp the sweetest sound. Instinctively, his wife reached out for the stand, her fingers curling around the edges as her back curved under his touch running down her naked spine.

  Mac’s fingers tangled into the sides of her panties, and in a flash, he’d pulled the scrap of lace down her legs and out of his fucking way. The sliver of her pink sex peeking out at him, teasing him, was enough to bring him to his knees.

  Quite literally.

  The moment his mouth came in contact with his wife’s pussy, Melina jerked forward, a loud cry bouncing off the room’s walls and echoing back. Mac sent out a silent apology to any other guests on their floor that might be interrupted by his wife’s loudness, but he couldn’t feel it in himself to be too guilty.

  After all, the only thing he could taste was the hot, heady tartness of his wife’s arousal soaking his tongue as her hands slammed down onto the table, and she demanded more. The only thing he wanted to hear was her cries as they got a little bit more desperate, and she rode his face just the way she liked the best.

  The smell of her, the taste of her … that was heaven to Mac.

  A sinful heaven, to be sure, but heaven all the same.

  Mac fully intended to tease his wife over and over throughout the night, until she was pink-cheeked and flushed all over, both begging and ready to demand what she wanted, but right then, he just wanted to make her come. His hands slid down from her ass to her ankles, and his fingers wrapped tight as his tongue found that sweet spot that made his wife shake.

  Melina stiffened above him, her back curving harder, and her legs trembling under his hold as more of her juices flooded his tongue and she came.

  Hot, loud, and hard.

  Fuck, yeah.

  Way too long.

  Mac was standing before Melina had even finished. His hands dragged up the backs of her legs and thighs to soak in her heat and shivering. Her quick breaths, broken up by bouts of breathless laughter, had him smiling.

  “And now you can get in bed,” Mac whispered in her ear. “But—”

  “Keep the shoes on.”

  She knew him so well.

  “You got it, doll.”

  Mac barely gave the hotel room a once over as he followed close behind Melina to the sectioned off bedroom, private from the main rooms. He probably should have stopped to appreciate the expensive settings, waiting trays, and champagne set out for them to enjoy. He had other things on his mind.

  Like the sway of his wife’s ass.

  And her legs in those heels.

  Damn.

  “Back or knees?” Melina asked over her shoulder.

  “Back,” Mac answered. “We’ll get to the other bits later.”

  Melina only shook her head, but did as he said, falling to her back on the bed a second before he was standing at the bottom, shedding his clothes piece by piece. It was only after he was completely naked and had a condom slid down the length of his erection—one baby was enough for now—did he finally climb in between the open invitation of his wife’s thighs.


  Melina sighed sweetly as Mac’s cock filled her full. Her pretty lips fell open in a perfect O shape as her head tilted back into the many pillows. It was like a tight, wet, warm velvet had suddenly wrapped his dick and wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. Mac was damn near lost in that sensation.

  Another flex of his hips, and he found himself even deeper.

  Melina tensed. “Easy.”

  Mac ran the tips of his fingers over the slope of her nose and cheekbones, careful, sweet touches as he felt her inner muscles flex around his cock. “I will.”

  Even sex couldn’t quite be the same after a baby, he knew. As much as he wanted to fuck his wife as hard and as fast as he could possibly manage to, he simply couldn’t do that. It had been too long, and she needed to be loved accordingly.

  “This,” Mac said, his fingertips gliding over her bottom lip.

  “Hmm?”

  Airless and soft, her words came out like a caress.

  Mac kissed Melina’s bottom lip. “This here,” he said again, repeating the motion. “All your shapes and curves. I love them.”

  Melina smiled, her legs wrapping tight around him, the heels of her pumps digging into the backs of his thighs. A shift of her hips, and he was pulling out again, sinking back inside her wet sex slower than before.

  He didn’t mind slow for now.

  He felt so much more when he took the time to enjoy it.

  Her russet eyes watched him, pupils blown and bliss so evident. “So is this going to be a new thing—this taking me away for a night?”

  “Yes. Definitely yes.”

  Melina stretched and yawned against Mac’s side, shimmying in closer to his body at the same time. Morning light spilled in through the window, highlighting the curves of his wife’s body as he traced them for the hundredth time with his hands.

  “You were right,” she murmured, the exhaustion yet happiness thick in her tone.

  “I usually am, but indulge me this time. About what?”

  “I don’t want to leave, but I have the strangest urge to go home and sniff the baby’s head.”

  Mac snorted, entirely amused at the admission. “He smells like lotion and milk, Melina.”

  Or depending on the time of day or when he fed, Marquise could have a whole bunch of unpleasant smells, too.

  “And me,” she mumbled. “He smells like me and mine.”

  His brow furrowed as he took in those words, unsure of how to reply. “Like your things, or …?”

  “No, like my baby. He smells like mine.”

  “Oh.”

  Melina smiled against his pec. “It’s a mom thing.”

  “We can get going, doll.”

  “Okay.”

  “Go have a shower and I’ll get some breakfast up here. We’ll eat before we go.”

  Melina dragged herself out of the bed, both looking as though she wanted to leave, and like she might crawl right back under the sheets with him. As she disappeared into the attached bath, she called over her shoulder, “But call and check on the baby.”

  “He’s fine. I’m sure.”

  “Call!”

  Mac was already reaching for the phone. It rang twice before someone picked up at his home. The angry wails of Marquise echoed in the background.

  “Ciao,” Mac said into the phone.

  “I think he likes his milk straight from the boob,” Victoria muttered in the other end.

  Mac did his best not to laugh, and failed miserably. Marquise wasn’t even breastfed now. “So he’s basically good, then?”

  “Here, talk to your equally annoying friend,” his sister grumbled.

  Two seconds later, Enric was on the phone, sounding slightly happier than Victoria. “I think Marquise has just figured out that his mom actually isn’t home this morning. He was fine through the night taking a bottle, but today he’s looking for her.”

  “Makes sense,” Mac said. “We’re going to eat and then we’ll head home right after.”

  “Great.” A beat of silence passed before Enric asked, “Did you get a call this morning?”

  “I turned the cell off last night—I only gave the room phone number to you and Vic.”

  “Huh. You might want to check your phone.”

  “Why?” Mac asked. “What happened?”

  Something always happened.

  He wanted one night with his wife.

  Mac was not asking for a lot.

  “It’s Enzo,” Enric said.

  “What about him?”

  “Guess they found him dead in his cell this morning during roll call. They haven’t called it or made an official announcement yet, but the guy’s a staunch Catholic, so …”

  “He didn’t kill himself.”

  “No good made man would, Mac.”

  Had Luca just made his move?

  When Melina emerged from the luxurious two person stone shower it was as if the hot water had washed away her worries.

  At least some of them.

  On the other hand, perhaps it was the spectacular loving her husband gifted her with last night and early this morning. She hadn’t intended for them to go so long without being intimate. After all, Mac was a man and he had needs. Just as she did. Those needs had been satisfied in every possible way and were directly responsible for the good mood she was in.

  Though she and Mac had desperately needed an evening away, Melina would be glad to get back home to their son. There was no doubt in her mind that Marquise had noticed her absence by now. Throwing her hair up in a ponytail and squeezing into a black jumpsuit, Melina didn’t bother with makeup.

  Leaving the bathroom she found their bags packed and the bedroom empty. A delicious aroma reached her nose, and Melina followed the scent to the dining area where she found a large breakfast spread on the table. Heat lifted from the food, and she couldn’t help how her mouth started to water.

  She started to sit down at the glass table trying to decide what she was going to eat first. That’s when it dawned on her she still hadn’t laid eyes on her husband.

  “Mac?”

  Melina made her way into the living room and that’s where she found him. His back was to her as he looked out of the window, down at the scene below him. With one hand pressed against the glass and the other in his pocket, he looked calm. At ease. At least he would to someone who didn’t know him like she did. The energy coming from him screamed trouble.

  “Mac?” she called again.

  He turned around and smiled at her lackadaisically. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  “I was waiting for you, doll.” He came towards her.

  “I’m here now, so let’s eat.”

  She offered her hand, and he took it to follow her back into the dining area. He was quiet as he pulled out the chair for her, allowing her to sit down. Melina unfolded her napkin and put it in her lap as Mac took his own seat.

  “Our son misses you,” he finally said.

  “I bet he does. He’s not used to me being away this long.” She took a bite of the French toast she’d put on her plate.

  “Vic assumes he prefers the boob to the bottle or something, and he hasn’t even breastfed since he was brand new.”

  Melina put her napkin to her mouth in an effort not to spit out the food she’d been chewing on. Laughter bubbled up hard in her throat.

  “That sounds like something your sister would say.”

  “You know Vic.”

  Melina poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip before she spoke again.

  “Yeah, I know Vic. I also know you, so what happened?”

  “Doll, what are you talking about?”

  She waved a finger at him. “Nope. Don’t even try it. You looked like a man on top of the world before I went to take my shower. Now it looks like the weight of the world is on your shoulders again. Something happened so don’t waste your breath lying to me.”

  Melina cut another piece of the cinnamon flavored Fre
nch toast as she waited for her husband to speak. Mac scowled as he helped himself to pancakes and eggs. A few minutes later he finally spoke.

  “There’s been a death.”

  Melina nodded. “Okay. Whose?”

  Mac’s eyes were steely. “Enzo.”

  She put her fork down. The breakfast she’d been enjoying so much, suddenly tasted like sand in her mouth.

  “How? Why?”

  “That is what has to be figured out.”

  “It seems that every time we turn around death is breathing down on us.”

  “It happens in times of upheaval and uncertainty.”

  Melina took a sip of the cold, tart sweet orange juice as she considered what her husband said. He was right, but that still didn’t make up for the obvious. They had no idea what to expect next.

  “This isn’t going to be resolved anytime soon,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  “No. It isn’t.”

  “Then the question remains. Who has the most to gain with the boss imprisoned, and his next in command dead?”

  “Me,” Mac said with no inflection in his voice.

  Melina rolled her eyes. “Those that don’t know you might say that. Those that do, know better.”

  “I really don’t want to spoil our day talking about this, doll.”

  “No use in pretending it didn’t happen either, Mac. But okay.”

  They finished the rest of their breakfast in silence and when it came time to leave, Mac gave a hefty tip to the man at the front desk for the excellent service they’d received. As she buckled her seat belt, Mac hopped into the driver’s side and started the car.

  It was amazing how one phone call really could change everything. For less than a day they had been able to put the problems with the Pivetti Organization on the backburner and simply be a husband and wife enjoying a night away from their growing infant. Now they would return to high alert and suspecting the motives of every person around them. That kind of deceit and distrust was toxic to the soul and for the first time Melina wondered if she was truly strong enough to withstand the new storm that she knew was brewing.

  “Mama missed her baby so much. Yes, she did.”