Queen's Ransom: A Fog City Novel

by Layla Reyne

  “I needed to keep something light close to me,” she confessed. She had to be smarter and deadlier than everyone, but this part of her could be soft without giving away any weakness. Except to Celia. “But now I have you.”

  “You are a remarkable woman, Helena Madigan.” She cupped one of her tits, and Helena leaned more of her weight into Celia. Swooned, she thought, was the technical term. First time for everything. “All of you.”

  “So are you.” She nipped the end of Celia’s chin. “Now fucking kiss me.”

  Celia didn’t need to be told twice, and once her tongue plunged inside Helena’s mouth, Helena was lost. And lost had never felt so fucking good. Tangled up with Celia, in her touch and taste, in her body as Helena urged her down to the mat, laid her out, and fucking feasted. First on her breasts, pulling them out of their cups and working the nipples into tight aching peaks. Then kissing down her torso, swirling a tongue inside her belly button, before burying her face between Celia’s thighs in the patch of dark coarse hair there. She tortured herself and Celia, licking, kissing, and nipping through and around the lace thong, sneaking her tongue under the fabric every so often to get a direct hit because she couldn’t get enough of the keening sound Celia made each time she did it, of the quiver of her thighs under her hands, of the way she rocked harder against her mouth, of the rich musky fragrance that continued to intensify.

  “You need something, Cee?” she asked.

  “More.” Celia palmed her tits, pinching her nipples, as if that could somehow release the pressure Helena had been building, for both of them. “Inside, please.”

  “I do this…” Helena hooked her thumbs inside the straps of the thong. “I wanna hear you scream. You got that, Cee?”

  She nodded frantically, close but needing a bit more, and Helena was ready to give it to her. She yanked the thong down, then trailed her hands back up the inside of Celia’s thighs on a direct path to her cunt. She trailed two fingers through the wet folds and around Celia’s clit, circling. She moved to bend over, to taste and touch with nothing between her tongue and Celia’s slick, hot skin, but Celia bent a leg, blocking her.

  “Wait.” Panting, she levered up on one elbow, lust dazed but determined. “You too.”

  Helena had been largely ignoring the throb between her own thighs, of the wetness soaking the crotch of her own underwear, but Celia offering to bring her along for the ride shattered her focus. Brought to mind all the positions and scenarios that would work to get them off together. “Sixty-nine?” she said.

  Apprehension tiptoed across Celia’s face, and Helena laid a reassuring hand on her stomach. It had taken her a while to work up to oral sex too, with men and women. “We’ll get there. I’ve got another idea.”

  She moved to take off her bra and underwear, but Celia stopped her again. “Leave it on. It’s sexy.”

  Helena arched a brow. “Payback for the shop?”

  “You bet.”

  Laughing, a first for Helena during sex, she leaned over and gave Celia a deep plundering kiss and was surprised when Celia groaned hungrily, apparently liking the taste of herself. Maybe she’d get there quicker than Helena had. For now, though, her plan was set. She tore her lips away and moved to Celia’s side, on hands and knees, mouth and hand where she could reach Celia’s cunt, legs spread so Celia could reach hers. She took Celia’s hand in hers and directed it between her legs.

  Celia caught on fast, slipping her fingers inside Helena’s underwear and over her folds. Helena sighed, bowing up when Celia’s fingers circled her clit. “That’s it, baby.” She spent a good minute or two riding Celia’s hand, letting Cee build her up, get into a rhythm, before she put her mouth back on Celia and a finger inside her.

  “Oh fuck!” Celia shouted and pounded the mat with her free hand. Her other hand moved faster on Helena’s clit. “Oh fuck, please!” She demanded with her fingers too, dipping inside Helena, and Helena lost her rhythm for a moment, too caught up in riding the waves of building pleasure, until Celia returned to circling her nub, increasingly frantic.

  “I’m close, Helena. I’m close!”

  Helena briefly lifted her face, reminding Celia of her duty. “I wanna hear it, Cee.”

  She nodded, her fingers moving faster against the bundle of nerves driving Helena wild, and Helena, building at a rapid clip too, used two fingers to fill Celia, pumping, her tongue on her clit, flicking, and Celia tipped the rest of the way over the edge with a full-throated “Fuck me!” Her cunt greedily clenched around Helena’s fingers, the tight heat causing Helena to buck against Celia’s hand, the extra pressure all she needed to come too. She grabbed Celia’s wrist, shoved her hand back, and following the cue, Celia sank her fingers inside Helena, filling her up as her walls rippled with pleasure.

  Once the waves had subsided, Celia withdrew her fingers, as did Helena. She sank onto the mat, on her side, her head resting on Celia’s abdomen, an arm thrown over her middle, both of them catching their breaths in contented silence and company.

  Celia’s fingertips coasted up and down her forearm, gentle and soothing. “Did I scream loud enough for you?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve still got your voice.”

  “I guess you’ll have to try harder next time.”

  Helena swatted her belly. “Oh, I can go harder, baby.”

  “I want to try all the things with you.” She threaded her fingers through her hair, pushing back a wild hank that was tickling Helena’s eyelashes. “Maybe even loving you…”

  And didn’t that just tickle her heart too. Helena dropped a kiss on her hip, a future in front of her that she’d never expected. One full of family and love, trips to London and Paris for lingerie, and nights in the arms of this amazing woman. “I’d like to give that a try too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Celia strolled through the Maritime Museum’s exhibits, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to gather as the guests outside began to take their seats. It was a gorgeous setup for the wedding, ribboned white chairs and an abundance of flowers on the brick patio overlooking the Bay. Not as gorgeous, however, as the blond who stepped between her and the windows.

  “Well, hello there, Miss Perri,” Helena said with a smirk.

  Celia returned it. “Hello there, Miss Madigan.” She snagged the open lapels of the borrowed judge’s robe Helena had donned for the occasion and tugged her girlfriend closer. The black robe was a sharp, striking contrast to the ice blue dress Helena wore beneath it. The same color as Celia’s dress but a different cut, each of them picking a style that suited them best. “Don’t you look all official today?”

  Helena leaned in for a kiss, which Celia returned, though not as fervently as she would have liked, careful not to mess up their makeup. Helena drew back and zipped up the robe. “Closest I’ll ever get to these.”

  “You regret that?”

  “Heck no.” She handed Celia her folio and adjusted the robe on her shoulders. “One, this thing is hot and scratchy. Two, I can do more good on this side of the bench.”

  Celia gave her a deeper kiss, damn the makeup. “You’re remarkable.”

  Helena smiled against her lips. “So are you.” When they came up for air, Celia thumbed away an errant smudge of lipstick she’d left on Helena, who did the same for her. “You know what else is remarkable?” Helena said. “This weather. How did they get this lucky?”

  Despite the rainiest January in Celia’s recent memory, her brother had managed to get perfect weather on his wedding day—a balmy seventy degrees and not a rain cloud or fog bank in sight. “They deserve it.”

  “Can’t argue that.”

  But someone was arguing, Lily’s whimpers a soundtrack to the rough and weary voices behind a nearby exhibit wall. “I’m surprised you showed up,” Holt said.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Brax replied.

  Celia shot a worried glance at Helena, who lifted a hand, signaling to wait.

  “Of course I don’t want you to l
eave,” Holt said. “You’re family. This is supposed to be a happy day for our family.”

  Lily’s whimpers escalated to soft cries as if sensing her Da-Da and Ba-Ba arguing.

  “I’ll go,” Brax said.

  “Cap, don’t, please.”

  “Ba-Ba!” Lily chipped in, and Celia knew Brax’s heart had to be breaking.

  Holt’s too. “Why are you pushing us away?”

  “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

  Celia rubbed a hand over her chest, her heart aching for how much that must have hurt Brax to say and for how much it must have hurt Holt to hear.

  “Is this about what Chris said last summer?”

  As Gloria approached with Mia and Marco, Celia shot Helena another look. They couldn’t wait any longer. “I got it,” Helena said, heading the direction of Holt’s and Brax’s voices.

  “Are you guys looking forward to the trolley?” Celia asked, aiming to distract her kids from the nearby argument.

  Marco fiddled with his light blue bowtie. “Think they’ll let me drive it?”

  Mia, in a matching blue dress, slapped his hand away. “Leave it alone, and no you can’t drive it. You don’t have a license.”

  “It’s on tracks,” Marco countered. “I can push a handle.”

  “I’m more interested in the food after,” Gloria said. “Never thought I’d be going to a wedding reception at Gary Danko.”

  Neither had Celia. Before Chris had met Hawes for the first time at Danko, Celia had never visited the famous San Francisco establishment. Now, it was a regular go-to for Madigan-Perri family events, including today’s wedding. She half suspected Chris and Hawes had picked the Maritime Museum for their nuptials because it was a short walk—or trolley ride—to the restaurant.

  “Ooh, yeah,” Marco said. “Especially the dessert table.”

  “You better not eat everything on it before we get there,” Chris said, entering arm in arm with his very-soon-to-be husband.

  Gloria shook a finger at them both. “You’re not supposed to see each other yet.”

  “Oh, I just saw him,” Chris said with a cheeky grin. “In the coat closet.”

  The kids snickered, and Celia bit her lip to keep from doing the same. Helena saved her the near chastisement, appearing from around the exhibit, her stride determined. “We ready to rock and roll?” she said.

  Hawes lifted Chris’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Never been more ready.”

  “Little H?” Helena called.

  Holt joined them, eyes red rimmed, but with a smile plastered on his face for his brother. “I’m here.”

  As Helena spoke to Avery at the exit door and Gloria got everyone in line, Celia laid a hand on Holt’s forearm. “You okay?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Celia followed his gaze out the window, to Brax, Lily in his arms, as he walked up the side aisle and took his seat in the front row. The love and fear in Holt’s warm brown eyes were heartbreaking. She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Give Brax a chance,” she said, parroting back the advice Holt had given her and remembering the conversation she’d had that day with Brax at the station. “He’ll come around. I promise.”

  Holt released a shaky breath, took a deeper one, then smiled, a small but real one. “Thanks, Cee.”

  Outside, the music started, and the crowd shifted in their seats, angling to see the coming processional. Helena, on her way to the back of the line with Hawes, stopped at Celia’s side and stole another kiss. “Whatever you said to Holt, thank you.”

  “Whatever is wrong,” Celia replied, “we’ll get through it as a family.”

  Helena’s mission-critical face softened, transforming into the soft, peaceful one Celia had made it her own mission to bring about at least once a day, more if she could manage it. Doing whatever she could to take care of Helena too. “You know I love you, right?”

  Celia did, even if the surprise of Helena saying it for the first time blinded her for a second. But she recovered quickly, smiling wide. “Good, because I love you too.”

  “Hello, this is our wedding,” Chris teased from behind them.

  “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Hair, we know.”

  Everyone laughed, and they parted reluctantly, Celia taking her position on Chris’s arm, Helena on Hawes’s. Just in time as the glass doors opened, and Holt and Gloria were first down the aisle. The kids followed, and then it was her and Chris’s turn.

  At the end of the aisle, they stopped, and Celia rose on her toes, kissing her brother’s cheek. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m proud of you. And thank you for giving us more family.”

  Chris hugged her tight and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m proud of you too, Cee, and I think we’ve got you to thank for the family part too.”

  They shared a smile, then took their places at the front, waiting for Hawes and Helena. Looking out over their gathered friends and family, at Hawes walking down the aisle, no lingering chill about him as he smiled adoringly at Chris, at the similar smile aimed Celia’s direction from the woman on Hawes’s arm, Celia couldn’t hold back her own smile. Couldn’t hold in the happiness that surrounded and buoyed her. Her family was stronger than ever, and she was happy to have played a part in making that—making this special day—happen. And she couldn’t wait to see how their family—how she and Helena—continued to grow in the future.

  Thank you for reading!

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  Turn the page for all the details on Holt & Brax’s story, Silent Knight, the final book of the Fog City series!

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  Book Five of the Fog City Series

  Preorder Now

  I won’t let anything happen to you.

  Fourteen years ago, Braxton Kane’s feelings were forbidden.

  As an officer, he couldn’t fall for an enlisted… no matter how much he longed for Holt Madigan.

  Now—as a police chief in love with a digital assassin—his promise to always protect Holt is becoming harder to keep.

  I’ll protect you.

  Holt doesn’t understand why his best friend has been pushing him away for months.

  But when Brax’s life and career are threatened, Holt refuses to allow the distance any longer.

  The Madigans protect their own, and Brax is family, whether he believes it or not.

  I won’t let anything happen to you either.

  Forced together, Holt realizes his feelings for his best friend have changed.

  His desire to explore the promise their single night together held is undeniable.

  His resolve to protect the man who has always protected him is unshakable.

  But if Holt wants a future with Brax, he’ll have to search and destroy the person who attacked him—before Brax activates the kill switch and sacrifices himself.

  Love and devotion. Friendship and trust. Family. It all comes down to this. Holt and Kane, together at last, in the final book of the Fog City romantic suspense series.

  An Excerpt from Silent Knight

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Holt glanced up from where Lily was crawling after the multi-colored sensory balls on Brax’s carpeted office floor. Holt had been heartened to find the toys still stashed in Brax’s bottom desk drawer. Brax stood in the doorway, just back from a meeting that, by the hard set of his jaw, the deep crease between his brows, and his overly wrinkled shirt sleeves, had turned his already bad day to worse. Guilt racked Holt; he should have been here sooner.

  Shouldn’t have let three months go by with only a single phone call.

  “I just saw the news. I’m so—”

  Brax slammed the door shut. “You can’t be her
e.” He crossed the room to the interior bullpen window and peeked through the slatted blinds. Blinds Holt had called ahead to Jax about, to make sure they were closed. The usual protocol. That and some hijacked electronic locks and surveillance cameras. “No one saw us come in.”

  “I’m sure no one did.” Brax snatched his fingers out of the blinds and turned, hands on his hips. “But it’s grand fucking central around here. Anyone could come in at any—”

  Holt stood, picked up Lily, and thrust her at Brax, giving him no choice but to take his excited goddaughter. “Ba-Ba!”

  As Holt expected, Brax crushed her to his chest. The maneuver muffled her squeals of joy, but the peace that swept over Brax’s face—the fluttering closed of his eyelids, the flattening of the divot between his brows, the loosening of the muscle at the corner of his jaw—was indication enough that concealing their presence hadn’t been his only motive. “Hey, princess,” he whispered and dropped a kiss in her curls.

  Lily shoved an arm between them, lifting a toy, almost ramming it into his nose. “Yes!”

  Brax chuckled. “Your wish is my command.” He took the toy and tossed it in the air a couple times, catching it easily.

  Lily clapped and Brax held her closer, rubbing a hand over her back and shushing her.

  “Better?” Holt asked once she settled.

  “Yes, but I’m serious, Holt.” He rested back against the credenza under the bullpen window. “The hot water is rising, IA is already on my case, and the state attorney general is asking questions now too.”

  “Internal Affairs? Since when? We didn’t get any flags.”