I dropped my face between her legs and gave her the one medicine that I’d never thought she’d need. Licking her pussy was incomparable to most feelings. It tasted even better than I’d remembered and gave me a monstrous surge that compelled me to whisper, “You’re going to be in trouble tonight.”
I could only imagine that what she was feeling was just as forceful. As she wriggled in my mouth, trying her best not to scream, she desperately cried, “Show me, Brenton. Show me how bad I am.”
It drove me crazy to hear her beg like that, and I’m not the kind of man to back down from a challenge.
Wrapping my lips around her clit, I sucked her in until it could go no further and propelled my tongue like I’d been licking on the sweetest piece of candy that I’d ever tasted.
I was.
“Fuck me, Brenton. Fuck me like you missed me.”
I’d have no need to pretend. I kept her in my mouth as I rose to my knees and licked up her delicious body—traversing her soft skin as if it’d been fields of snow and sugar. Licking her from her thigh to her navel. Sucking on her neck so that everyone would know that I was there.
“Do you want me?” she asked.
Our eyes connected and my throbbing dick pressed between her legs, lightly dipping its tip in and receding as quickly. I wanted to make her beg. To make her want it more than she’d wanted anything. To stay with me in that fantasy for every moment of it that we could get.
“More than anything,” I confessed.
She wrapped her legs around my back and pulled me down to enter her, touching my lips with her own and muttering variances of “I love you.”
Thrusting myself inside of her, I felt a warm sensation run its way through my blood and arrive at my protruding cock as it rattled her insides, treating every part to its own attention and slipping deeper with each instinctual thrust forward and out, and back again as she dripped onto me.
Feeling her grip on my dick was like being reborn into something that I could never have been without her. Lost in my thoughts and feeling myself about to explode, I dismounted.
Like the good girl that she was, she didn’t hesitate for a second. She sat up in one swift movement and took a mouthful of me.
“I want to ride you,” she said and took the kind of slurp that sent my eyes rocketing into my head as I gripped the back of hers and made her choke.
We moved to the bedroom once her neighbors started banging on the walls.
My goal was to put her to sleep.
With that much, I’d succeeded—to the same extent that I’d allowed my own body to run itself into exhaustion. After that, my mission was simple.
Unfortunately, I had to leave.
Temporarily.
Not all damsels need saving, but this one needed my help.
19
Victoria
“Brenton...” I called and there was no answer.
My stomach turned over as memories of the previous night flooded my conscious mind with all sorts of scenarios and nightmare situations that I’d hoped wouldn’t stay with me for too long. In a way, I’d deserved them—all of them. It didn’t matter what anyone said or how temporarily free that I was. I knew that it wasn’t over.
“Brenton...” I called again as I slumped out of the bed and my feet slammed against the cold floor. Outside of my window, snow had been falling relentlessly, turning the sky into something that looked similar to concrete instead of the pearly diluted blue.
Without much else on my mind but my fading dreams and Brenton, I did what I had always done after waking up post-bender. I took a shower.
As I undressed, I couldn’t help but notice my shaking hands and wonder how much of my “dreams” were memories. Likewise, I couldn’t tell whether or not my memories were dreams. I’d even begun to doubt that Brenton had even the spent the night with me as the water washed the dirt and gunk free from my skin and strands of moistened hair.
Was it real, I thought. Was any of it?
I turned off the water, just as it’d begun to chill. As I stepped out and reached for a towel, I suddenly remembered that I had nothing to prepare for.
No job expecting me, except perhaps, for Milty, and not a single person to call.
“My phone!” I shot and ran naked out of the bathroom to search.
“Where is it! Where is it!” I panicked as I tossed through my sheets and every single article of clothing that I remembered wearing.
Nothing. There was nothing.
Just like that, my hopes for freedom were dashed. It wasn’t long before I’d had the realization that it was the end. I’d been ready to receive the guillotine for years of ignorance and idiocy. My only regret was that I’d lost Brenton again.
I threw myself on the bed—intent on staying there until the cops came to my door with handcuffs and a list of questions that I’d know the answers to. As I settled my head onto my pillow, I felt something odd. Something small, soft, and prickly shoved into my pillowcase.
I reached into it, hoping to God that it wasn’t money or a summons. What I pulled out was a small envelope that simply read “Turn on the news.”
Behind it was a one-way plane ticket to Burbank, California, a random address in Malibu, and a note that looked as if it’d been run through a blender and stitched back together with crazy glue.
As I opened it, I felt, all at once like my life had been ended and myself reborn.
It was my letter. The one that I’d written to Brenton all those years ago.
He’d kept it.
As my mind swirled with thoughts of the possibility, a knock at my door struck me free from my silent meditation. I tossed the envelope aside and squirmed to the sound before I could get too carried away with my fantasies.
This is it, I thought.
To me, this was my day of reckoning, finally, coming to collect on my moral debt. I threw on the clothes that I’d worn the previous night—Brenton and I had left them by the couch.
“Hello?” I asked as I stared through the blocked peep-hole. “I’m not opening this door unless I see your face.”
Then, clumsily blurted from the other side of the door was, “Midgy, would you knock it off! I told you that girl’s already shook half to death.”
“Milton?”
“Yes, honey, it’s me. Just wanted to make sure that you got home alright. Midgy and I just left the precinct... I might even make the papers!” The excitement in his voice, notwithstanding, I was relieved to see him—if not, then emotionally unprepared.
“Come on in you two. It’s freezing in that hallway.”
They tipped through my door like the perfect old couple I’d always imagined them to be. Midgy was tied up in Milton’s arm like she was the princess. I suppose that, for him, that’s exactly what she was.
“My Milty’s a hero!” Midgy exclaimed, with a blissfully ignorant smile. “Don’t let that old fool lie to you, girl. I knew that you’d be okay. Tough chicks like us are always okay.”
Together, the pair were like two pieces of a pristine chessboard, matched from head to toe and even making the same expressions. I loved spending time with them, until my own inevitable thoughts that I’d never have the same tore their way into my mind.
“Oh, hush, woman...” Milty joked. “It’s not always about you.”
“It is most times!” Midgy shot back, much to my own amusement and Milton’s judgmental gaze.
“Anywhoo...” Milton distracted, “What are you up to? How are you feeling?”
As I started to answer, I remembered the instructions that Brenton had left for me. “Would you two like some coffee, or tea, or anything?”
“What for?” Milton asked. “You putting on a show?”
“Something like that...Just wait right here. I’ll get something to throw over the couch.”
As we all took our seats with steaming cups and bewildered eyes, the report that would change the course of my life ran for the fifth time that hour.
“Stunning development
s in the, still unfolding, money laundering scheme perpetrated by none other than MossCorp’s former-CEO Luthor Greene.
“Sources have informed my team that there’s some new evidence in the form of a direct recording of the disgraced mogul—threatening the lives of several people and, in doing so, incriminating himself. Mr. Greene’s representatives have declined to comment.”
“There’s still much to be said about Luthor Greene’s upcoming trial and I’m personally looking forward to seeing what wrong-doings, reputations, and businesses go down along with him.”
“When asked to comment on the recording along with a host of damning files submitted anonymously to FinCEN, Mr. Greene simply answered, “Merry Christmas [A]-holes.’”
“...And what a merry day this must be for all of those affected by his crimes. Mr. Greene has been remanded to the proper authority and will spend the next several months awaiting trial, without bail.”
“I’m Lucy Marks of Channel 7. Wishing you and all of your loved ones a happy Christmas Eve and a Merry Christmas.”
“So, what now?” Milton asked with a knowing smile as Midgy laced her arm through his.
I paused to wonder if I was crazy. Deciding that I was and that it didn’t matter, I asked, “Do you two mind giving me a ride to the airport?”
20
Brenton
“Well,” Ian said as he shut off the video. “You must be pretty damn proud of yourself.”
The report had been running for its fourteenth news cycle and I still hadn’t heard anything from Victoria. My contact at FinCEN promised me that she wouldn’t be harmed, so long as she kept her nose out of the trial and refused further contact with Luthor. I didn’t see either of them being too much of an issue. Had I been Victoria, those conditions would have gone without saying.
“As a matter of fact, I am,” I answered while fiddling with the ice in my quarter-full glass. “I think that I did good? No?”
“Hmm...” Ian mocked. “You left her again, man?”
“Temporarily...” It’d been one full day and not a word. Not so much as an email. When she didn’t arrive on time, I assumed that she’d been trying to blow me off. “I’m heading back tomo—”
A ring at my front door caught both of us by surprise.
“Expecting company?” Ian asked.
I got up and made my way to the door. For a moment, I’d considered that it might be her. That I wouldn’t have to return to New York and win her heart all over again. I rebuffed the thoughts as I made my way to the door and opened it.
The first thing I noticed were her mismatching shoes and my own hanging jaw as the surprise overwhelmed me backward. It was her. My Victoria.
“Sorry, I'm late,” she said, looking like the most perfect being that God had ever created. “My flight was delayed.” It looked like she’d been holding back both tears and a smile that could have torn into even the darkest heart.
“No,” I said. “You’re right on time.”
Take Me Home (Sample)
We were like fire and ice.
I was mousy and quiet. He was wild and rowdy.
It was everything that I’d ever dreamed of.
His eyes, piercing and blue, had me fall for him – hard.
Then we came crashing down like a tidal wave.
Vincent Carr, a drool-worthy billionaire, has waltzed back into my life.
Like he owns it. Like he owns me.
But now, he’s not the only one who wants me all to himself.
A man in the mafia has his gaze raking over me like I’m a piece of meat.
Vincent Carr is a bad apple.
But his protective arms are my only hope.
My arms full of new supplies, I used my hip to bump the door open and yelled, “Maria!”
Dogs of all ages started barking the moment they heard me. I set the box down on the front desk as Maria emerged from the back, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“I know I’m late,” I said. “But I stopped by the store and got a bunch of new toys to replace the ones that Bowser destroyed.”
Maria sighed, taking the box from the desk. “You really don’t have to do that, Gina. It comes out of your own pocket.”
Maria knew that I wasn’t exactly rolling in dough. I came from a family that had been comfortable, growing up, although not nearly as wealthy as our neighbors and the other kids at my high school. But since I’d graduated and was living on my own in the city, I paid for everything. And working in an animal shelter was never said to be a lucrative career path.
A lot of people in high school and college suggested I at least become a veterinarian. But that wasn’t what I’d wanted. I wanted to help animals find forever homes, to brighten people’s lives by helping them find a lifelong and devoted companion.
When I was little, I wanted to help people, always. I thought that I should be President of the country or something. That change had to be big and loud. But as I got older, I came to feel that change was best done person to person, on an individual level.
This was a way that I could do that. Helping animals, helping families… and hopefully having a good impact on the neighborhood. This area wasn’t exactly upper Manhattan. Maria didn’t always approve, but I let the neighborhood kids come in and play with the animals. It was good for both the kids and the animals, helped all of them feel better.
“It’s okay,” I promised her.
Maria sighed. “I’m not sure that it is.” I followed her into the back room so she could distribute the toys to the cats and dogs we had. “We might be out of a job before the week’s over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that our lease is up and we got bought out. Our old boss is gone. Somebody new is in charge. Bought the whole neighborhood.”
She talked like there was another layer of meaning that I was supposed to be getting, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was. “So, we’ll just negotiate with the new owner.”
Maria turned and looked at me, hands on her hips. “No, Gina. I mean, the neighborhood’s under new management.”
“Right. So why can’t we talk to that management?”
Maria rolled her eyes. “The mafia,” she hissed. “The mafia is in charge of our neighborhood now. The Corillo clan. They claimed it as theirs in a turf war. I just got the news this morning.”
My blood ran cold. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to have the mafia controlling your business, but a criminal family taking over couldn’t be good, right?
I’d dealt with “bad boys” before. I’d dated one all through high school. He’d done nothing but take advantage of my patience, run me ragged worrying about him, and then, he’d dumped me for some chick who was just as into danger and trouble as he was.
She’d also been skinny where I’d always had… curves, let’s put it that way. Heavy curves.
Not that I had let myself think too much about that when the whole thing had gone down.
Point was, I’d had enough of trouble to last me a lifetime, and here it was again, right back on my doorstep.
Literally, since not half an hour after getting the news, the mafia themselves came knocking.
I’m Italian myself, on my mom’s side. My grandmother always reminded me of that. “Your last name might be Brown,” she would tell me, “plain English, but your first name is Gina. For me. You remember that always.”
But I wasn’t a part of the mafia and when my grandmother told me to keep in touch with my roots, I was pretty sure that wasn’t what she’d meant.
There were three of them. Two were obviously grunts, sporting sunglasses and cheap suits. Thanks to said dangerous boyfriend, I knew where they were carrying their guns. One on the left breast, so they were both right-handed. A small ankle pistol. And then a third, tucked into the waistband against the back.
The third was dressed in a bespoke suit and had the sort of smile I’d expect to see on a shark. “Hello ladies. Lovely day.”
I let Maria take the lead on this. S
he was the one who’d learned about our new… landlords. She was the one who should talk to them. God only knew I’d mess it up somehow.
“Hello,” Maria strode forward, smiling the way that servers smile at rich customers in a restaurant. “I’m Maria, I’m the owner and general manager of this shelter. This is Gina, she’s one of my best employees.”
The man’s eyes flicked over to me, and I saw a flare of fire in them. I quickly looked away. I didn’t need this guy interested in me.
No dice. He walked over to me, still giving me that shark smile. “I’m Gabriele,” he said, the Italian coming out as he pronounced his name. “It’s a…real pleasure to meet you.”
The way his gaze raked over me told me exactly what kind of pleasure he thought it was.
I had to resist the urge to glare. Normally when a guy looked at me like that, he got a smack. I wasn’t a piece of meat. But pissing off a guy who had two bodyguards equipped with three guns each was the epitome of a bad idea.
I just kept avoiding his gaze.
“Pleasure to meet you, as well,” I replied. “We look forward to continuing to serve the community here.”
Gabriele looked amused. “Serve the community?”
“We do great work here,” Maria said quickly.
“You don’t bring in much money, last I checked,” Gabriele replied, almost conversationally, like they were discussing the weather.
“We’re a shelter,” I replied, my temper rising. “We’re not about bringing in money. We’re about giving lost animals a forever home. We’re about giving families a bundle of joy that will love them forever. Pets are proven to help with mental and emotional health issues. They teach kids responsibility. We give back, even if it isn’t in dollar signs.”
Gabriele turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Maria gave me a look of dismay. She was always telling me to watch my temper.
Take Me Over: A Protector Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Page 13