I’ve never seen her come that hard, never felt her that tight around my shaft. Every moment we’re together, whether we’re fucking or just existing with one another, is fucking magical. She meets me on every level and always leaves me wanting more of her.
“Still isn’t enough,” I grunt with one final thrust and topple to my side, taking her with me. I feel her relax. The calm of her body stems from pure exhaustion. As she sighs contently, as sleep finds us, all I can think is that I still haven’t had enough.
ANNABELLE
I sit at my desk, shifting ever so slightly, trying to relieve some of the discomforts I’m feeling after last night’s excursions.
It was the first time Jordan ever pushed the boundaries like that, and quite frankly, I enjoyed it.
Sure, I was put off for a moment, but I’m experienced enough to know rough is sometimes nice, and Jordan would never do anything to hurt me in a bad way. Even when he’s trying to fuck me into submission.
But the after effects… now, those I could do without. Even if they are the result of the best orgasm of my life.
A girl has to work, and it’s hard to hide the after effects when your boss is a man whose job is to never miss a single detail. Which explains the look he gave me when he caught me walking back to my desk from my only trip to the coffee maker.
A trip I must soon repeat because I am in desperate need of caffeine.
“Anna.” King once again exits his office, his eyes keen to the slight shift on my body in my seat. I lift my coffee mug, trying to act like everything is normal. “Oh, for fuck's sake, do I need to have a talk with Jordan about his treatment of you?”
“What?” I ask, nearly choking on the last of the coffee.
“I’m not stupid, Anna,” he says before taking my coffee mug from my hand and crossing the room to refill it. “He’s all but admitted shit is happening between the two of you, and while I don’t want to get involved in your personal life, you can barely walk this morning.”
“Boss man—” I try, but he cuts me off.
“And it’s not like I don’t know why you’re shifting the way you are in your seat or walking slowly as molasses. I’ve had to show Missy who’s—"
“No, stop,” I shout, holding up a hand, knowing exactly where this is going because his wife is my best friend, and well, she likes to tell me about their sexual adventures. Which I don’t mind because it’s coming from her. But not King. Never King. “I’m not gonna pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about, but the last thing I need is to hear about it from you.”
“Anna—"
“Nope,” I shout and plug both my ears with my fingers. “La, la, la, la…”
He chuckles loudly, and I pull my fingers from my ears.
“Fine, I won’t say anything more, but I will—"
“No, you won’t. You say one word to Jordan, and I will tell Missy what you really think about her meatloaf.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“You are an evil woman.” He smirks.
“Yeah, you remember that with every bite tonight.”
“Fuck, no.” His face falls, and I laugh this time. Missy is the best cook out of the group, but her meatloaf… well, let’s just say even a starving animal would pass that shit up. “Please tell me you’re lying.”
“For your sake, I wish I were, but I hung up from her thirty minutes ago.”
He curses wildly all the way back to his office, forgetting my coffee in his hands.
Well, shit. Looks like I’m going to have to get up after all.
Chapter Four
Annabelle
The sound of my cell phone jolts me from a sound sleep, and I blindly reach across my bed for it, searching the mountain of comforter surrounding me as the cold familiarity of it hits my fingers.
I crack my eyes to check the caller ID, but it is an unknown number. Sitting up in bed, I notice the time in the top right-hand corner of the screen, and my heart freezes in my chest.
2:28 AM
The only reason for calls at this hour is one of two things: The wrong number or bad news.
Shit, it better not be Missy calling me again.
“Hello,” I croak into it, connecting the call instantly. My heart starts to pound, and I send a quick prayer to the Big Guy above.
“She’s very pretty,” a male voice replies, and I frown instantly. What the fuck...
“You have the wrong number.” I lift the phone from my ear, but something stops me from ending the call. Placing the phone back to my ear, I listen.
“She looks just like you,” he says, and this time the deep gravel of his voice sends a chill throughout my body, but I write it off as my sleepy state misinterpreting things. The man has to be drunk off his ass and has dialed the wrong number.
“Seriously, drunk dialing is one thing, but I have no idea who you’re talking about. You’ve got the wrong number. Do us both a favor—"
“No, I don’t have the wrong number, and I’m not drunk, Annabelle.” The sound of my name makes the blood in my veins turn to ice.
What. The. Fuck.
“Who is this?” I ask, feeling my heart jumping wildly in my chest. I reach for the lamp on the table beside my bed, but the flood of light does nothing to calm my suddenly heightened nerves.
“I wonder if she moans the way you do,” he continues, almost purring across the line. I rack my brain trying to distinguish whether the voice is familiar or not, but there is nothing about the raspy voice that pings my memories. “Do you know which moan I’m talking about?”
“Who is this?” I demand, fully awake now and soaking in every detail of our conversation. So much has happened to the small group I call family that I’m beginning to believe no one is safe anymore. But I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out whom this stranger is referring to. It can’t be Missy, Alice, or Penny, as the threats against them are no longer breathing… but he said she looks like me.
I swallow hard, needing to believe more than ever that he’s called the wrong number.
“The one right before you come. It’s so guttural. So freeing and fierce,” he continues, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Look, I don’t know who this is or what—”
“Evelyn.” Her name hits my ears, and I feel the air knocked from my lungs, and he hasn’t even touched me. One word, and my worst fears are confirmed.
He’s talking about my daughter.
My Evie.
“Leave her alone,” I clip, feeling the rage of protection fill my body. Evie’s in San Francisco, miles away from me. I don’t know what this man wants, but I’m hating the distance between my daughter and me more than ever. And for the first time ever, I find myself praying Adam is with her. “
“Tell the detective and his new team to back off,” he interrupts, sounding hard and dangerous. “They’re putting their noses in places they don’t belong, and if they continue, Evelyn just might suffer the consequences of their actions.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply instinctively like I’ve been trained to do. I know now this has to do with the Benito case King and Jordan are working on.
Wait, could this man be… Benito?
“Don’t play coy with me, Bella.” He chuckles, using the name only Jordan calls me. There’s only one way he would know that name, and that is if he’s been watching us. It has to be Benito, and it’s becoming clear that he has a vendetta against Jordan. “You won’t like the ramifications either. Or should I send your precious daughter to you in a body bag to make my point?”
“Please, just leave her out of this,” I beg, giving in to his demand, ignoring my training because this is more than some random threat. It’s a threat against my daughter, and as a mother, I will do what I need to do to make sure she is protected. Even if that means giving in to his demands. “I’ll tell him.”
“She looks so peaceful. The moonlight luminates her skin beautifully. Her
dark hair, tucked into a neat braid, is a beautiful contrast to—”
“I said I’d tell him—”
“You better, or else you leave me with no choice, and it would be such a shame to watch such a beautiful creature choke on her own blood,” he sneers, but before I can respond or even take a breath, the line goes dead.
He’s disconnected the call, his point made, but my fingers are already dialing.
Evie.
She picks up on the third ring, her voice filled with sleep. “Mom? What’s wrong? Is everything all right?”
“Evie,” I breathe, my fears only slightly relieved. Maybe he wasn’t there with her after all. Maybe he was bluffing.
“Mom?” she calls.
“Is Adam with you?” I ask, knowing my reaction isn’t helping to keep her calm, but I need to make sure she isn’t alone.
“What is going on?”
“Please, Evie, just tell me if he’s there with you.”
“He’s here,” she says, sounding confused and worried, and I don’t blame her. I know I sound like a crazy person calling her at three in the morning, demanding to know if the boyfriend I don’t like is with her. “Are you okay? Is it Eli?”
“Eli is good. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I had a bad dream,” I tell her, trying to think quick and give her a believable reason for my off-the-wall behavior. “I needed to hear your voice and know you were okay.”
“I’m okay, Mom.” Sounding less worried now. I release the breath I was holding. “What time is it anyway?”
“Around three, I think. I’m sorry, baby girl.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I hear her smile into the phone, and my heart fills with hope. Even though we talk once or twice a week, this is the first time I’ve heard that smile in a long time. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“You’ve been busy. What with Adam, finals, and the holidays—”
“I’m sorry I missed Christmas,” she cuts in, almost like she’s trying to keep me from saying something I will regret later. Only this time, I didn’t have a snarky comment to throw at her about Adam, or her choice to stay in San Francisco for the holiday. “Everything’s been so… crazy lately.”
“Baby girl, you don’t owe me an explanation. I know I don’t make it easy on you—”
“I want to make it up to you—”
“Evie, stop it,” I stop her and take a breath, remembering I need to show her more support and less judgment. “You’re a grown woman, and you’re starting a new life with someone important to you. I hardly expect you to be home for every holiday, but if I promise to try harder with Adam, will you give me another chance?”
“Mom, you didn’t do anything wrong—”
“I love you, Evie,” I say quickly, not wanting her to make an excuse for me. I close my eyes and picture her sweet face. She is the younger version of myself, while her older brother, Eli, is the spitting image of his father.
“I love you too,” she murmurs softly. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s?”
“Yes, actually, I do. Missy and Kingston are hosting a party for the guys,” I reply.
“Good, I worry about you being alone.”
“Evie, I’m not alone.” This isn’t the first time she’s expressed this thought to me, but it’s not a daughter’s plight to worry about her mother. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Mom, you’ve spent my entire life pining for a ghost. Don’t you think Daddy would want you to be happy?” My heart twinges as thoughts of Jordan surface, and for the first time since becoming involved with him, I feel the twinge of guilt for betraying the love I shared with my late husband. It’s also the first time I thought of another man before him too.
“Evie—”
“I’m serious. Will you at least think about it?” She isn’t asking me to forget her father, but she’s right. Henry would want me to be happy and to find love again. I take a breath, but before I can respond, I hear her yawn. “Mom, I really hate to do this, but I’ve got to meet my study group tomorrow. Do you think we can talk again tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course,” I respond quickly, feeling a different kind of relief because no one knows about my relationship with Jordan, and had this conversation gone any further, I don’t think I would have been able to keep it from her.
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Sleep well, baby girl.”
“You too, and no more bad dreams.”
“No more bad dreams,” I surmise, suddenly remembering the real reason behind this phone call. “Bye, sweetheart.”
As the line once again goes dead on me, I let the floodgates open. Fear, relief, anger, confusion, and dread fill me until it’s all I know.
Evie.
Jordan.
Benito.
The investigation.
All of it swirls in my head, pushing me to my knees, leaving me breathless.
Call Jordan, my brain screams, and my hand numbly scrolls through my phone until I find his name.
“Bella,” his deep gravelly voice comes over the line in seconds. “Miss me already?”
“Jordan,” I whisper, letting him hear the turmoil I feel through my voice.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, instantly alert to me.
“He called me. He threatened to hurt Evie.”
“Who called you?” he demands. I can hear him push the blankets back and sit up, all of his attention focused on me.
“Benito.” I barely say his name, and it leaves a foul taste in my mouth. “He called me.”
“Where are you?”
“At home, in my bedroom,” I respond numbly. “I called Evie right after, but I can’t shake the feeling that he was right there watching her as he was talking to me.”
“Is she okay?”
“As far as I can tell she is.” I take a breath, letting his voice soothe me a little. “Adam is there, so at least she isn’t alone.”
“Bella, I’m sorry—”
“He had a message he wanted me to pass on to you and King,” I say, almost robotically. “He wants you to back off. Which means you must be close to something because he said if you don’t heed his warning, you won’t like the consequences of your actions, and he said Evie would come home to me in a body bag.”
“Bella—” I hear the slam of a door, then the engine to his truck roar to life but ignore all of it because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m losing control.
How did this happen? How did he know where to strike?
“I’m not a weak woman,” I tell him, trying to swallow the raging emotions now bubbling in my throat. “But he threatened my kid, Jordan, and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop him. I sat here on the phone acting like I get those kinds of calls on the daily. And then I had to lie to her because the last thing I need to do is scare her.”
“You were strong when you needed to be, but I’ll be there in less than five, and you can give it to me.” I take a breath because God knows I want to give it to him, but Evie isn’t his to worry about. “Just stay on the line with me, Bella.”
Chapter Five
Jordan
Once I’m on the road, I shoot King a text.
JL: 911. Meet me at Annabelle’s.
The drive to her house is torturous, and it takes everything in me to keep calm for her because I can hear the panic in her voice. I run nearly every red light and stop sign, and thankfully, living in such a small town, no one is out at this hour anyway.
“Jordan,” she breathes quietly.
“I’m coming, Bella,” I tell her trying my hardest to reassure her. I knew I should have gone to her place tonight, but it was late, and I didn’t want to wake her.
She’s quiet, but as long as I can hear her breathe across the line, I know she’s okay.
My phone pings, signally a response from King. I didn’t expect to hear from him so quickly.
KC: On my way. Be prepared. Missy
’s coming with me.
Shit.
I turn the corner onto her street, scanning for any unfamiliar vehicles. Nothing seems out of place.
“Bella, I’m going to pull into your driveway now. Stay put. I will let myself in.” I kill the engine to my truck and take one more look from my spot toward her house. Seeing nothing out of place, I get out and approach the house. It won’t be long before King arrives, and with Missy in tow, this thing between Bella and me will no longer be a secret.
Not that I want it to be. I want the world to know Annabelle George is mine.
“Bella?” I call when I enter the house. The phone is still pressed against my ear as I listen to her breathe. “I’m coming down the hallway now.”
The line goes dead a second before her bedroom door opens and she barrels down the hallway at me, jumping into my arms the second she reaches me. Her legs wrap around me like a vice, and she buries her face in my neck. My arms wrap around her trembling body, and every instinct in my body screams to never let her go.
“You’re okay, I’m here now. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he never touches you again. I’ll make sure Evie is safe too,” I murmur against her hair, meaning every word that passes from my lips. I will keep her safe, even if that means killing Benito with my bare hands.
I’m not sure how long we stand there, but a knock at the door and Missy’s voice interrupt us.
“Anna, are you okay?” she calls from the other side.
“Why is Missy here?” she asks, pulling back from my neck.
“I asked King to come,” I explain as I let her slide down my body until her feet are firmly on the ground. “She’s your best friend.”
“But she doesn’t know about us.”
“And telling her is a bad idea?”
“No, but telling her like this—”
“Bella, right now, all she cares is to know that you are all right,” I whisper before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “Are you all right?”
“Now that you’re here, I am.”
Lost in His Kiss Page 3