by Bethany-Kris
Mac edged Melina’s boy shorts down her thighs, and let her kick the underwear off as he pushed her camisole up high enough to expose her breasts. Her nipples hardened under his roving thumbs as she shoved his sleep pants down. Never once did his wife’s lips leave his, and it damn near killed him to pull away.
But he had something else to taste.
Something that was just as sweet and sinful as her mouth.
Melina arched off the bed as Mac kissed down her stomach, only stopping at her navel to flick his tongue against her skin. He set her legs over his shoulder, heard her sharp intake of air, and then he buried his face between her thighs.
Tart.
Hot.
Heavenly.
Melina’s soft pussy tasted like bliss on his tongue. He covered her sex with his mouth, let his tongue burrow into her clenching slit, and lapped up her arousal. Her heels dug into his shoulders when he sucked hard on her clit before letting his tongue flick fast against the throbbing nub.
“Jesus,” Melina whined, “don’t stop, Mac.”
He certainly wouldn’t.
Not until he got what he wanted.
Her shaking, coming all over his tongue, and ready to be fucked.
Mac felt his wife’s orgasm coming on fast—in the tremor rocking her hands that had tangled into his hair, how her legs tightened to keep him in place, and in her tone as it turned higher in pitch. Desperate, even. Her hips rocked into his mouth, wanting more, and her taste became sweeter on his tongue.
“There,” Melina breathed. “God, Mac.”
As she began to cry her way through the orgasm, Mac slid up Melina’s body, caught her parted lips in a kiss, and fit his cock between her thighs. Already clenching and wet from her orgasm, she was damn tight as he thrust in. Every fucking inch of her held him strong, taking his breath away for those first few brief seconds.
He couldn’t stand to stay still; every muscle in his body demanded he move.
Melina’s fingernails raked stinging lines down his back as he fucked her, and he could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm squeezing his length with every flex of his hips. One of his hands cupped her throat, and his thumb stroked her lips. His other hand tangled into her hair while her legs locked around him, and she met him thrust for thrust.
There was something crazy about his wife when he fucked her.
Something especially beautiful.
Something …
Mac rolled over to his back, and took Melina with him. She never broke stride on top of him; their familiar rhythm came so easy for her. She knew where to pick up where he left off. She rode him wild, so crazy. All dark waves of hair falling over her shoulders and dark eyes locked on him. Her one hand flatted to his midsection, while her other dipped between her thighs to tease her clit.
Her bottom lip caught under her teeth, and he knew.
“Gonna come again for me, doll?” he asked.
“Gonna make me, Mac?”
Fuck yes.
They did have all morning, after all.
Mac slid the gold cufflinks into the sleeves of his suit jacket. Behind him, Enric sat in his chair, staring down at the screen of his phone.
“You could skip this meet, if you wanted,” Mac said.
Enric didn’t even bother to look up. “And what, miss seeing the man who will take over my father’s position? I don’t think so—I need to be there.”
“You know, we never did talk about the fact you didn’t tell me Luca’s plans.”
“Why would I?”
“Because I’m loyal to you, Enric.”
Enric smirked. “Yes, and look at where my loyalty has gotten you, Mac.”
Mac’s gaze met Enric’s in the mirror. “Point taken.”
“Actually, should I be using boss now, or …?”
“Not like this; not when it’s just us,” Mac said.
“All right.”
“Something came in the mail today, by the way.”
“Oh, what?” Enric asked.
Mac held up a signet ring—the second he could add to his collection. “Your father’s ring.”
Enric didn’t look surprised. “I would like to have that when you’re done with it.”
“Of course.”
Mac would need his own to be made now, anyway.
“I walked yesterday,” Enric murmured.
Mac stilled. “What?”
“Like twenty steps?” Enric shrugged. “I felt like I was going to die, and I slept from the time I got home until this morning because it took that much out of me. But …”
“You walked,” Mac said, his smile growing.
“Yeah. Victoria should have just worn an ‘I told you so’ sign. She was fucking smug about it all.”
“She cares a great deal about you.”
Mac held back from asking questions about the two’s relationship, but only because he promised Melina that he wouldn’t.
“And I think you care a great deal about her,” Mac added.
He couldn’t help himself.
Enric chuckled low. “Doesn’t matter. She won’t let me take her out, anyway.”
Mac frowned. “Why the hell not?”
Certainly not because of Enric’s current state, Mac knew. His sister was not the type to let a disability affect her feelings about a person, romantically or not.
“Getting romantically involved with a patient would cost her a lot,” Enric said quietly.
Shit.
Mac hadn’t even considered that.
“You’re not always going to be a patient, Enric,” Mac pointed out.
“Yeah, but by then, things might be—”
Mac’s ringing phone stopped Enric from finishing his sentence. He gave the young man a look to say they weren’t finished with their conversation as he picked up the call.
“Yeah, Mac here,” he said.
“The Dollhouse just got raided, boss,” came a familiar voice. The enforcer let out a hard breath, adding, “Your wife is being cornered by cops, and it’s not looking good.”
Mac cursed. “I’ll be there in thirty.”
He hung up the phone, and grabbed the handful of items on his dresser to shove in his pocket. Keys, his wallet, and whatever else.
“We have to go,” Mac said to Enric.
“What’s happened now?”
“Raid on The Dollhouse. Our meet with the men will have to wait.”
Enric scowled, and wheeled himself out of the bedroom behind Mac. “Jesus, why can’t I have one good day before it all goes to shit, huh?”
Yeah, Mac often asked himself that question, too.
Life had returned to normal. At least, whatever the new normal was for Melina and her family. Her last encounter with Anthony was just a dark memory she had no wish to dwell on. What was done was done. Mac had assured her that the pall Anthony had cast over their lives was no more. The only thing that mattered now was ushering in the new transition of leadership that had to take place.
Melina wasn’t foolish enough to think that everyone would welcome Mac with open arms as the new boss. There was bound to be discontent among some, but whether that discontent would fester into something more only time would tell. Pushing such thoughts away, Melina left her office and headed to the bar at the front of The Dollhouse. Though it was only midday, business was in full swing. Only a few of the private rooms remained empty. With a practiced hand, Melina fixed a glass of rum and Coke.
She’d only taken a few sips of the heady drink when the wall behind the bar shook. Two bottles of top shelf liquor fell crashing to the floor, and Melina moved quickly in case anything else were to fall.
“What the hell?”
Melina turned just in time to see men and women in full police gear surround the bar.
“Melina Maccari, you are under arrest on charges of prostitution, and conspiracy.”
She barely had time to process what she’d just heard, when Melina was roughly dragged from behind the bar and handcuffed. The cuffs b
it into her wrists, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing that she hurt. Instead she focused her attention on the one who’d read the so-called charges against her.
“I’ll be sure to send a bill for the liquor you destroyed to your department.”
“If I were you, I’d be more concerned about the prison cell that awaits you.”
Melina knew that he was trying to rile her, but she refused to rise to his bait.
“We also have a warrant to search the premises, Mrs. Maccari.”
She swallowed hard as more men poured down the hallway towards her girls and the patrons they were with.
“There is no need for this disruption of my business.”
“We’re well aware of just what kind of business you run, Mrs. Maccari,” the bald, brown-eyed cop in charge said.
“You know it’s a legitimate one with all the proper permits despite these absurd charges that say otherwise,” Melina shot back.
“We’ll see about that,” the lead cop said before he followed the rest of his men down the hallway, leaving Melina alone with the female officer that had handcuffed her.
There was nothing Melina could do to stop them. Her heart had skipped a little when she noticed a few of the officers carrying metal cases. This was no fool’s errand. They expected to find something. Melina bit the inside of her lip as some of her girls were herded in front of her trying their best to shield their nakedness.
“You could have let them cover up,” Melina said sharply.
A few more officers appeared, pushing in front of them several men that were frequent visitors.
“I’ll have all of your badges for this,” one of the men yelled.
“I’d like to see that.”
Melina’s hands clenched into fists behind her back. It was one thing to be arrested, but to be humiliated was another thing altogether. She would not forget this day. The way the women looked to her with fear in their eyes. The burning anger behind the eyes of her patrons. The laughter of the cops as they antagonized the men and women in front of them.
“What now, Sergeant Masters?” the officer holding Melina asked.
“Have everyone brought to the station. The women on charges of prostitution, and the men on charges of solicitation.”
The orders came from the bald man who’d spoken to Melina earlier with such disrespect. As the women and men were marched out against their will, Melina steeled herself to be lead out behind them. She was surprised when Sergeant Masters came to stand in front of her, with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Mrs. Maccari, it appears that my officers have found something quite extraordinary here,” he said.
“There’s no doubt you’re eager to tell me.”
“Indeed. I admit I thought it strange that all of the rooms here have beds save one.”
“Sometimes furniture does need to be replaced,” Melina said.
“No doubt here you are required to replace furniture often, but there is more than that. It appears as if someone has cleaned the entire room.”
“Now it’s a crime to keep a clean establishment?”
Sergeant Masters laughed. “It is when such a thorough cleaning is used in an effort to hide evidence. I admit even I was amazed to see how the room lit up. The luminol made the room light up like the Fourth of July. I didn’t expect to see bleach all the way to the ceiling.”
He watched her now intently, as if searching for some break in her character. Some weakness. She refused to give him any. “Is that all?”
Masters smirked. “You’re a tough cookie. I’ll give you that, but every cookie crumbles one way or another.”
Melina smiled. “Not this one.”
“We’ll see about that. Irwin get her out of here.”
“Gladly, boss.”
Swallowing down the trepidation that slowly started to seep into her bones. She was being arrested. Again. From past experience, Melina knew that she could survive inside. She’d done it once before. But this time was different. This time wasn’t just some petty misdemeanor charge facing her. No. The conspiracy charge had all but proven that. The cops were after something much more substantial. Melina could only pray that bleached down or not, the last room on the right would not lead to the life she’d worked so hard for, crashing down around her.
The ache seeped into Melina’s bones.
She steeled herself so that her teeth wouldn’t chatter.
This was deliberate.
A classic cop tactic to make her as uncomfortable as possible before they questioned her.
Yes. She’d been through this before.
Melina barely looked up as the doors to the interrogation room opened. She recognized one of the men. Detective Parks. This time he was with the female cop who had arrested her earlier. The woman had changed out of her blue uniform and now wore a dark gray pant suit. Her sandy blonde hair had been pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her unfriendly eyes found Melina’s own.
“Mrs. Maccari, imagine seeing you again … so soon,” Parks said.
“Through no desire of my own, I assure you.”
“Good thing then that fate has brought you here once again. You’ve already met Officer Irwin.”
Detective Parks leaned against the corner of the table while Irwin took a seat directly across from Melina. She smirked at her.
“You know it’s really a shame,” Irwin said.
“What is?” Melina played along.
“That you would choose to be a martyr for an organization that cares nothing for you or your sacrifice.”
Melina shifted in her seat. “Can we please get on with whatever this is? I grow tired of present company.”
“By all means. I can admit to being most eager to see you behind bars again,” Parks said.
“Anthony Corelli.”
Melina’s eyes focused on Irwin. She lifted a defiant brow. “Am I supposed to know him?”
“Since he is a frequent patron of the whorehouse you run, I’d think you know him very well.”
So, that was what this was all about.
Anthony.
The bastard was dead but yet he’d come back to haunt her once again.
“I run a legitimate and very successful business, but I can’t be expected to know the name of every single patron that frequents my establishment.”
“Let us refresh your memory,” Parks said. He opened a manila folder and spread out an array of glossy colored photos that were date and time stamped. They were all of one person … Anthony.
“Nice photos,” Melina said.
“Anthony Corelli makes a nice subject, especially when he’s always so easy to track. Your establishment seems to be the place he prefers to spend his time,” Irwin said.
Melina glanced at the woman. “The man has good taste. My establishment is top notch.”
“So top notch that it was where he spent his last moments of life.”
Melina’s gaze shifted to find Parks watching her. His eyes narrowed as if he was sure he had something on her.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Irwin broke in. “The last time Anthony Corelli was seen he was heading into your place of business. No one reported seeing him come out.”
Rubbing her wrists, Melina noted she already had bruises forming around the tight cuffs. She took a long breath before she answered.
“As I’ve said before, there’s no way I can possibly know every single patron that may or may not frequent my establishment.”
“Well it’s a good thing we have that covered then. The last time Anthony Corelli was seen alive was entering The Dollhouse. That combined with the room we found inside bleached from floor to ceiling, with no bed leads us to believe that he was murdered … by you.”
So they’d finally played their cards.
Murder.
The prostitution and conspiracy charges were only a ruse.
A means to attempt to flush her out.
To see her crumble.
Too bad for them she wouldn’t.
Melina gave a long exaggerated sigh before she laughed. Loudly.
“Is there something you’d like to share with us?” Irwin asked. Her right eye twitched in irritation.
“Your department is ridiculous. The fact that you’re wasting tax payer dollars doing surveillance on the coming and goings of one man when there are real crimes out there being committed annoys me. It annoys me almost as much as you accusing me of murdering a man you assume that I know. I have a husband and a son that I adore and love. What woman would jeopardize that?”
Parks shook his head as he placed the pictures back into the folder. “He’s trained you well. You sound like the perfect mob wife. Denial springs from your lips so smoothly one could almost believe you’re telling the truth. Good thing for me I know better.”
“I believe I’ve said everything I have to say,” Melina said coolly.
“Suit yourself. Perhaps some time in lockup will make you reconsider the first degree murder charge we’re adding to your rap sheet,” Irwin said. She stood up and came towards Melina, motioning for her to stand up.
“I’m entitled to my phone call.”
Parks too stood. “Indeed you are, but we’ll decide when that is.”
“Up, Maccari.”
Melina glared at Irwin. They were deliberately denying her the rights that she was entitled to. But she wouldn’t let them see how much it upset her. How worried she really was about the new charge they’d just leveled. Instead, she stood up and smiled.
“Lead the way.”
Irwin grabbed her roughly around the arm and jerked her towards the door. Melina itched to knock the sanctimonious bitch on her ass, but she had more important things to worry about. Her phone call had been denied, and she had no idea if Mac even knew that she’d been arrested. Or that she was facing life in prison or worse, death, for something he’d assured her would never haunt them again. For once, her husband had been wrong.
A week.
Seven days away from her husband.
Her son.
This was bullshit.
Fucking bullshit.
It had felt as if she was swallowing sand when one of her guards had gloated about Mac showing up to see her and being turned away … repeatedly. Melina was certain that he was worried. It was one thing for her to be arrested. They’d faced that battle already. This was a whole new war. She was deliberately not being allowed to communicate with her husband and one way or another Melina vowed that there would be reckoning for all those involved. From the taunting guards, to Irwin and Parks who had taken it upon themselves to stop by her cell on alternate days in hopes that she would talk.