by T K Barber
“God, you're gorgeous . . .”
She flashed him a stunning grin. “You’re pretty easy on the eyes, yourself.”
He laughed but sucked in a breath when she started to undo another button.
That was a present he'd been waiting to unwrap for a long damn time.
He leaned back over, moving her hands out of his way, but she snagged his fingers and eyed him as she slid his middle finger over her tongue into her mouth.
“I'm trying to go slow, but you're killing me,” he groaned with a smile.
She swirled her tongue around again, grinning. He fought the involuntary close of his eyes with all his strength. He didn't want to miss a single twitch on her face.
After another moment she let it go and shrugged. “Who said I wanted slow?”
Oh, it was on. His mind threatened to shut down, and they crashed together again in a kiss. By the time he finally managed to make his hands work enough to get his belt off, dropping everything else to the ground, she'd finished her shirt and arched up to unhook her bra.
That he, for sure, wanted to do himself.
He grabbed her hands and moved them above her head with a grin. Pressing his mouth to her stomach, he worked to get the frustrating hooks undone.
He'd never understood why there needed to be more than one. Ever.
Finally, the last one popped, and he met her glazed look with one of his own. He propped up on one elbow and watched her eyes flutter shut as he slid his other hand under the front of her bra. He thought his jaw might break as he reveled in the contrasting sensation of ample, soft skin and peaked flesh.
“Jesus . . .” the word escaped his mouth all on its own, and he pushed up to his hand. She flung the bra away and raised her brows.
Dear God. She was so spectacular he didn't know where to look first. It wasn't like he'd never seen a woman's body before, but it was the first time he'd seen hers. Every single thing about her was made to order, just for him.
He let out a helpless groan, and ducked down, worshipping her chest until her breathing was as erratic as his heartbeat.
“Nick!”
She let out a stuttering moan, and he continued with slow motions as he slid his hand down her stomach. He ran his thumb down the velvet skin, already slick, and let out a guttural growl.
“Holy shit, Scarlet . . .” It took everything he had not to lose it right then.
She laughed into a gasp as he grazed her again with his teeth.
“That's . . . what you get for making me . . . wait so—” She sucked in a breath and exhaled a carnal moan as she moved against and with his hand. He grinned.
If that was the case, he'd make her wait that long every time.
Every. Single. Time.
Unwilling to hold out any longer, he leaned up and held her gaze as he anchored his hands beside her head. The untamed passion on her face was addictive and spectacular to watch. From that position, the entire room vanished.
She whimpered and writhed, urging him in with her hands. He nearly blacked out until he remembered to breathe. Deeper he drove, surrounded by her moans and wordless pleas, matched only by his throaty groans and grunts.
They both rode the wave slowly at first, foreheads together, connecting on a deeper level than he expected.
After all the horrible things he'd done. After all the loss he'd experienced in his life . . . there was no way he should get to have this. He was almost afraid to enjoy it. Almost.
It wasn't long before the urgency of their desire took over, and he couldn't think anymore. Every sound he dragged from her set his body on fire. Her nails covered every inch of his back, sides, and chest as she soared closer and closer. Each new path she carved drove his pleasure higher and higher, adding to and heightening the sensations.
He grunted as she dug at his shoulders, his entire body feeling each fingertip. After God knows how long, but way longer than he expected he'd last as keyed up as they were, she finally wrapped her arms around his neck, and her head fell back as she screamed, pushing him straight to his edge.
She continued to moan in ecstasy as he pulled her against him for the final thrusts before the nearly violent sound of his own of release filled the room. Panting and elated, they stared at each other as she raked her nails down his arms.
After several glowing seconds suspended above her stunning, satisfied face, he dropped to his elbows and kissed her.
Not an urgent kiss. Or a needy one. Or a lusty one.
But an intimate one. A slow, soft, heart-melting kiss.
“Nick . . .” she whispered against his mouth as she cradled his face, and he prayed she felt every bit of what he was putting into it. For the first time in long while; he was happy.
Maybe it was okay for him to have that. Maybe it wasn't something that should be out of his reach.
He eventually rolled onto his side and pulled her close, molding her to his body. She hummed and kissed his neck and chest while she draped her arm over his waist, completely spent. He closed his eyes, lulled by the sound of her breathing.
This was normal. A normal thing normal people did.
He had no clue how much this connection with her would have meant to him. How it would have felt, in every sense of the word. The hole that had formed in his heart was smaller, and the one in his soul was definitely much smaller. Sex as a thing itself wasn't some magical cure, don't get him wrong. Some random screw wouldn't have mattered, not that he'd had any of those. But this, with her, made him feel a little less like a monster and more like a man.
And that was everything right now.
He placed a kiss on her forehead, and she wiggled closer, filling spaces he hadn't realized were still there. And not just against his body. Goosebumps rose on his skin as she ran her fingers along his torso.
“Nick . . . my God,” she said on a deep exhale.
He laughed and nodded. “Yeah. That was fantastic. You are incredible. I mean . . . damn.”
She grinned. “It was way better than I imagined it would be.”
He pulled his head back and eyed her beautiful tousled hair. The flush of pleasure still tinted her cheeks, and her lips were red and delicious. He smirked.
“Thought a lot about it, huh?”
“Don't act like you didn't,” she poked him in the side.
He laughed and hugged her again. She put her head in the crook of his neck and let out a long, melodic sigh.
“I hope you know there's no getting rid of me now.”
He smiled. That sounded way more perfect than she probably knew. More than he had wanted it to before. She turned her smiling face up to his, punching him right in the feels. He could honestly look at her forever. He leaned down and gave her another sweet kiss.
“I'm totally alright with that,” he murmured against her lips.
She purred and broke the kiss, before pulling herself up to whisper in his ear.
“How about another round?”
He threw a glance to the ceiling and laughed as he flattened on his back, then rubbed his hand down his face. He could get used to that.
“I'm gonna need a few minutes. At least. But . . .” He leaned his head up and looked at her with a gleam in his eye. “I know something we can do to pass the time.”
She raised her eyebrows as she smiled and propped her chin up on his chest.
“Is it something good?”
He smirked as he rolled her over, trailing kisses down her body, stopping at her lower stomach. He leaned his head up and met her gaze.
“You tell me.”
Thomas
The lush “Valentine & Marcet Law Firm” building got on Thomas's nerves every time he stepped through the grand entrance.
“Such a showoff. Makes me sick,” he muttered as he pushed open the large glass pane doors and marched straight toward the assistant perched at the half-round desk. The olive-skinned woman covered the receiver and waved him away, but he sneered an
d kept walking. She pulled it down and rested it against her shoulder.
“Thomas, he's with a client! Just wait!”
Thomas shoved the door open and waltzed through without pausing.
“—mistake about it, she's the only beneficiary. I'm—”
His pop, a tall, stately man with blond hair and a sharp jaw was seated behind his large, gaudy wooden desk. He was scouring a legal document with a woman, and they both turned a quick look at Thomas. Her back was rigid, her hands clutched around the arms of the chair. His pop scowled at him with a heavy sigh. Thomas recognized her, as she stood up and snatched her purse from the floor.
“Thank you for your help and time, Mr. Valentine. I'll take care of everything else.”
She nodded curtly, then turned to Thomas. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she stepped up to him, placed trembling hands on his shoulders, and exhaled a slow shaky breath.
“Tommy, so good to see you.”
She leaned in and quickly pressed her cheek to his before stepping back. The scent of rosemary swirled in the air, stirring odd feelings in his gut. Smelled a bit like home, and that wasn’t always a good thing.
Thomas grunted and nodded. “Mrs. Price.”
He was too upset for niceties. Besides, what the hell was she doing here? His pop wasn’t one for rubbing noses with the enemy. He’d just ask, but the man kept everything close to the chest. Never shared a damn thing with Thomas. Not a damn thing.
Mr. Valentine rose from his desk and smiled. But not at Thomas.
“Anytime, Marianna. Please,” the smile widened. “Stay in touch.”
Mrs. Price turned a thoughtful glance back over her shoulder and gave him a small, unsure smile.
“I will, Lyle.”
She walked past Thomas and the assistant who had just scampered in behind him.
“Mr. Valentine! I'm so sorry! I told him to wait.”
He held up his hand and shook his head. “It's fine, Becca, I'm quite familiar with my son's behavior. Thank you.”
“Yes sir,” she exhaled and closed the door as she left.
Thomas crossed his arms, lips in a tight frown as he stood with feet shoulder-width apart, fighting the tremor in his stomach.
Man, he hated being there. Brought up all manner of bad memories.
Lyle gestured to the chair in front of the desk and sat down in his own. When Thomas didn't sit, Lyle exhaled through his nose and linked his fingers, with his elbows propped on the desktop.
“What's wrong, Thomas?”
Thomas puffed air into his cheeks and blew it out as he rubbed the back of his neck. Here was the part he dreaded most of all. Never thought he'd have to do this, but he was out of options.
“Got a favor to ask, Pop. I don't like it, but I ain't got anywhere else to go.”
Lyle raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat, with a small, thoughtful frown. Thomas hated that face. That face meant he was calculating his risk, and rate of payback. Nothing ever came for free from his Pop. Not even his love. Not that Thomas knew how that would feel.
“I admit, I'm surprised. It must be something incredibly important. You swore you'd never ask me again after the last time, so I'm suitably intrigued.”
Thomas sneered. He hated when his pop talked like he was better than other people. He acted like he'd forgotten where he'd come from.
“Sit. I won't discuss business with you from across the room.”
Thomas grumbled and sat in the leather side chair. Everything in his Pop's office was as cold and loveless as the man himself. No pictures with family members, or any mementos from his kids' childhoods. Just static, generic sculptures and figurines perched on the tall wooden bookcases.
Lyle gestured with his hand for Thomas to continue and leaned back, with his arms crossed and a smug expression. Thomas took a breath and irritation built as he thought about his ‘brother.' And his stupid name.
“Cub’s gotta girl locked up and I'm gonna get her out. I don't wanna have to kill a bunch of people, so I figured you might wanna talk with him and try and work something out.”
Lyle let out a small, cold chuckle and shook his head.
“So, it's true. I didn't know what ta think when Charlie told me you were about to be in it over a girl.”
Tommy's eyes went wide. His best bud?
“Char—!”
“You know that's never going to work,” Lyle leaned back up and narrowed his eyes. “Don't you?”
Thomas narrowed his eyes as well. He'd always had a short fuse when it came to his father. Despite what he knew that’d get him.
“What, breaking her out? You don't think I can handle a simple smash and grab? Wow, you're further along than I thought, Pop. Need a nurse?”
Lyle smiled, and Thomas swallowed.
“No, Thomas. You and her. You need a strong, secure woman. Someone who can stand up ta the rigors of being 'married to the mob.' With what she's been through, she's a shell of a girl, Tommy.” A completely cold and evil look washed over his face as he stared at Thomas.
Thomas furrowed his brow and shifted in the seat. “Whaddya mean, what she’s been through? How do you know what he’s doing to her?”
Lyle spread his hands wide. “How do I know anything, Thomas?”
“Well, it’s usually ‘cause you’re the one fuckin’ causing it.” Thomas gnashed his teeth and flexed his fingers. “But even this is below you. Least it better not be you, ‘cause I swear to God, you won’t know what hit you.”
Lyle raised his brows in surprise and gave a slow grin.
“I’m not the one . . . hurting her, Thomas. But it makes me quite happy to hear ya talk like that. Maybe I am getting through to you. Shouldn’t be too long now.”
Lyle’s pleased expression made Thomas’s insides quake. Coming here was a dumb idea. Lyle exhaled, then frowned as he continued. “She won't be able to handle it. She'll never be able ta handle being with you.”
Thomas’s emotions were at war. He'd pretend for his Pop's sake he hadn't been hearing the real him squeak through. And he tried his best to keep his mouth under control, but his fuse was shrinking by the word.
“Pop, you got no idea how strong she is. She's stronger than you, me and the whole crew put together. She ain't gotta lift a truck, she just needs to live to prove that.”
Lyle watched Thomas with narrowed eyes and shifted in his seat.
“So, what happens when she finds out everything? You think she'll stay with you? When she finds out about your past?” He leaned forward, that sick smirk back in place. “Finds out what you did? And to who?”
Thomas swallowed and clenched his fists. Fear and heartache fluttered inside his chest. Would she? God, he wouldn’t live if she was scared of him. He saw her face, smiling at him, and his heart warmed. He had no doubt in his mind what they had was above and away from anything else.
He firmly nodded. “Yeah, she won't go anywhere. We need each other, Pops. She's the one.”
Lyle raised his eyebrows and grunted in thought. Thomas watched his face as a disgusted sneer hit his mouth. He looked absentmindedly at the top of the desk and breathed out a laugh before reclining regally in his chair.
“Okay, Thomas. I'll handle it,” He smirked again. “But you're in for life. No more talk about gettin' out. And you can’t see her again.”
Thomas's mouth dropped open.
“Pops! You can't do that! I wanna be out to be with her! We were . . .”
His stomach turned. So those were his choices. Save Anna on his own, risking everything on his own, and praying they got out, or give up the rest of his life to his Pop and hope that the negotiations between the two of them went well and Steven didn't just kill her for fun. His heart ached.
“Pop, you can't be serious! You know I didn't want this in the first place. You just didn't wanna let me go and do my own thing. You're keeping me like a hostage, and you know it!”
Lyle responded
calmly, unfazed by Thomas’s emotions.
“So that's true too. Charlie mentioned you wanted out, but I just knew he had ta be wrong.” He sighed heavily, and Thomas clamped his jaws shut. “My own son. After everything I've done for you.” Lyle sneered smugly. “Covered up for you.”
Him and his big damn mouth. He and Charlie were going to have more than words.
“You want to save her? This is how I save her. I'll save her from Steven, and from you.”
Thomas furrowed his brow and thinned his lips. “Whaddya mean from me?”
“You know who you are. You know how you are. You know what you are. Do you really want her part of this life?”
Thomas launched up from the chair and slammed his palms down on the desk.
“I'm only how I am 'cause that's how you made me! And no, I don't, that's why I want out! I wanna be with her, somewhere else!
Lyle leaned up in his seat. Irritation bled through his words as he raised his voice.
“And do what, Thomas? You think you can make it out there without me backing you?”
Thomas crossed his arms and laughed.
“Yeah, the hell I do! You know what? I'll manage on my own. I'm out Pop. All the way. I'm washing my hands of the whole lotta you. You're all dust.”
Lyle stood up and leaned on his hands over the desk, filling the space between them. Anger finally fully colored his words, and he glared at Thomas.
“Thomas, you walk out that door, you won't get back in. No matter how much you beg. Think long an' hard about it. Is she worth it?”
No hesitation in his heart. No doubt in his mind. Every day.
“Hell yeah. She's worth living on the streets for. If I had to give her my last dollar, so she could eat, I'd do it.” Thomas glared right back and smirked. “I guess you wouldn't understand that, though, would you? That whole love thing. The name Nataly ring any bells?!”