Together We Stand

by JA Lafrance

  “Respectfully, Mr. Mayor, it’s not going to be that simple. Our units are still investigating to learn who the new leader of Benza’s crew is. So far, he’s remained a ghost. It’s damn frustrating,” Porter admitted. For the first time, Atticus noticed his colleague looked as exhausted as he felt. They were both powerful men in positions that demanded much of them on a regular basis, but add in a worldwide pandemic, and the growing list of stressors tripled.

  Porter was one of the few that had accepted him as the new mayor without any hoops he had to jump through. He understood what it was to receive an elevated position so early in his career. The two had formed a mentorship/friendship that Atticus had come to value more than he thought he would.

  “Alright, well keep me posted on any developments. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Will do.”

  On the drive home from the crime scene, Atticus played over several scenarios in his mind. Either the victim had been killed by his own crew for some sort of betrayal, or he was taken out by the rival he’d tried to take advantage of. Either way, it was a mess he didn’t have time to deal with and neither did the city’s law enforcement resources. Tensions were at an all time high as groupings of citizens resisted the lockdown orders by causing disturbances. It was a time full of uncertainty and resentment. Jobs had been lost, lives had been lost, and on top of it all, they had to worry about innocent bystanders being caught in gun standoffs.

  Arriving at home, he parked in his driveway and headed into his three storey brick home. He’d inherited it when his parents passed away, and took great pride in caring for it the way they would have. Settling on the couch in a pair of sweats and with a freshly chilled beer, he switched on the TV for some background noise while he spent scrolled through his phone. Downtime wasn’t a luxury he had as of late, but with the day he’d had, he made time for it.

  His thoughts drifted to Shea, and he was soon shifting in his gray sweats to accommodate for the growing bulge between his legs. She had that effect on him; it was uncanny and somewhat amusing. He was hardly a horny teenager anymore, yet still felt like one around her.

  Deciding she’d had enough time to consider his proposal of a date, he opened his text messages and sent her a quick message.

  A: Shea, Atticus Ellison here. She hadn’t actually given him her number, but what was the use in being Mayor if he couldn’t pull a few strings. He had to pray she wasn’t offended at his forwardness and decide he was a creep.

  S: Oh, hi. How’d you get my number?

  And there it was, right away he’d have to admit he was a borderline stalker.

  S: Let me guess, you used your mighty powers as Mayor to track it down? Lol.

  A: Yes. I’m sorry if that offends you, I wanted to continue our conversation and didn’t want to wait until tomorrow morning.

  S: It’s okay, really. I could use the distraction.

  Phew. Dodged a bullet there.

  A: Does that mean you’re ready to say yes to me?

  S: I didn’t say that.

  Having the conversation with her over text wasn’t ideal, but with the pandemic, everyone had to make exceptions to the rules, himself included. With a sigh, he pressed her harder.

  A: But it’s what you want.

  S: You really are used to getting your way, aren’t you?

  A: Yes.

  There was no need to explain further, he wanted her, that was a fact.

  S: How can we possibly even go on a date?

  A: Leave the details to me. Just say yes.

  S: You’re not going to give me much of a choice, I guess.

  A: Nope.

  S: Fine. Yes. I’ll go out with you.

  Atticus took a long pull of his beer and then grinned, letting her stew for a few minutes.

  S: That’s it? I give in and get radio silence in return?

  A: Pick you up tomorrow night at seven.

  S: Fine. Goodnight.

  Shea tossed her phone back in her purse and opened the front door to her apartment. She’d had to take a hot shower at the club to wash the stench of death off her skin. Arriving home, she was in a foul mood that could only be overturned by her daughter’s happy smiles.

  “Mommy, Henry and I made pies!” Penny exclaimed from the kitchen.

  “Be right there, sweetheart!” she called back. Smoothing her hair into a ponytail, she did one last check that all the blood was erased and then headed to join her daughter.

  A playdate with her daughter and a real date with her crush the following day. One might think she was nothing more than a regular person.

  If only that were true.

  Chapter 4

  Shea tossed another shirt into her pile of discarded clothing and stamped her foot in frustration, much like Penny did when she didn’t get her way. Nothing matched with a damn mask, and there certainly wasn’t anything in her wardrobe that would make wearing her mask look sexy. Atticus was due to pick her up any minute and she was nowhere near ready. There was only one option left.

  “Henry!” she called for reinforcements. The breath had barely left her lungs when her bedroom door banged open and Henry all but leaped through the doorway. She frowned at him. “Were you just waiting for me to beg for help?”

  “Sweetheart, I love you endlessly, but you’re hopeless when it comes to this kind of thing,” he told her.

  She opened her mouth to argue, but wisely slammed it shut again. She didn’t have time to prove him wrong, especially when she’d proved his point by calling him.

  Henry headed straight for the double white doors of her walk-in closet and disappeared inside. She tried to follow him, but he had eyes in the back of his damn head and threw a hand up to deny her access. “No, no, no. You wait out there,” he ordered.

  Shea’s frown increased, but she complied, hopping around from foot to foot as she tried to get a better look at what he was doing. After a few minutes, he emerged, grinning like he’d won the damn lottery. He passed her a pair of her dark skinny jeans and a simple off-the-shoulder black chiffon blouse.

  “Not bad,” she admitted. “This is one of my favourites.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Henry hummed, his know it all attitude firmly in place. Opening her top dresser drawer, he tsked in disgust. “Nothing in here could be even remotely considered lingerie.” He fished through the drawer while Shea pouted. “Aha!” he exclaimed, producing a black lacy set of undergarments. He thrust the entire ensemble at her triumphantly, shooing her towards the bathroom to change.

  “I do too have sexy underwear,” she told him defiantly, closing the door in his face on his mocking shout of laughter. Dressed in the outfit he’d chosen for her, Shea danced back into the bedroom, ending her showing off with a little twirl.

  “It’s perfect. Damn, I’m good.”

  “It is...but my whole problem was finding a mask that doesn’t ruin anything I put on. This looks great,” she swept her hand down the front of herself. “But when I put the mask on…”

  Henry grinned and pulled a piece of fabric out of his back pocket. “Put this on.”

  Curious, Shea accepted the mask from him. It was black and covered with a sprinkle of pink glitter that shone in the light. Fitting it over her mouth, she was pleased with the results. “How long have you been holding onto this number?” she asked.

  “Just waiting for the right moment.” The doorbell rang, and Henry let out a whoop. “And how is that for timing?” He smacked her ass and gave her a shove towards the door. “C’mon, c’mon, don’t keep him waiting!”

  Shea ignored him and veered off to Penny’s room. Poking her head in, she found her daughter colouring and singing quietly to herself. “Hey, kid, Mommy has to go out for a little while. But Henry will be here with you.”

  “I know. We’re going to make smudge cakes!”

  “Smudge cakes?” Shea asked, trying to decipher what that five-year-old code could be for and coming up empty.

  “She means fudge. We’re going to make fudge,” Henry
explained, pacing impatiently behind her.

  “Okay, well you be good and I’ll be back to give you a kiss goodnight,” she promised.

  “No you won’t,” Henry muttered, earning him a swat. Blowing Penny a kiss, she faced her friend. “You’re going to be fearless. You’re not going to overthink this. You’re attracted to each other, you’re two unattached adults.” Henry kept up his coaching all the way to the door. “If we’ve learned anything these past few months, it’s that we don’t know what the future has in store for us. Live in the moment. Just fucking live for once, Shea.” With that parting wisdom, he yanked open the door, hid behind it and left her face to face with Atticus.

  Atticus drew in a sharp breath when the door was yanked open and he was face to face with the woman he’d been dreaming of having in his arms for months. No glass barrier, no line-up of other people, just the two of them. Her scent drifted to him and his cock jerked in his pants in response. She smelled like sin and looked like heaven. A walking contradiction of complexities that made her that much more attractive.

  “Hi,” she greeted him. “You’re right on time.”

  No, honey, this is way later than it should be. “Well, I aim to please,” he replied, hoping she could see his smile in his eyes. “You ready?”

  “Let’s go,” she told him, stepping out onto the porch. On the way to his car, she paused, obviously mulling over something in her mind.

  “What is it?” he asked, fearing she might call off the date.

  “I just...I never thought about it. Getting in your car. The pandemic—”

  He cut her off. “You don’t need to be concerned. I was going to discuss this with you at the house, but here works. I get tested daily, Shea. I have to as part of my duty as Mayor. I don’t have the virus. My car was just detailed this morning even though I’m the only one that’s been in it. You’re safe, I promise.”

  She let out a sigh of relief as he opened the door for her and she slid into the passenger seat. “Thank you,” she began once he was behind the wheel. “I have to get tested regularly too. Not just for my job, but because I want to make sure Penny is safe.”

  “She’s adorable.” Shea’s head snapped around, her eyes pinning him in place. “I’ve only seen her at the coffee shop poking her head around corners. I swear,” he hurried to explain.

  “She’s a handful,” she said, relaxing back in her seat. “But she’s the love of my life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

  “That’s admirable, how much you do to care for her.”

  If only he knew. “She makes it easy.”

  “So, this can’t be a traditional first date for obvious reasons, but I hope you appreciate a man that can cook one hell of a lobster dinner.”

  “I actually love seafood. Good choice,” she said. The air in the car was stifling, her skin seemed to be on fire. When he’d leaned across to flip on the radio, his arm had brushed hers, sending goosebumps tingling down her arm. Her attraction to him had to be obvious, a fact that embarrassed her. Until Henry’s voice sounded in her ear: Just fucking live for once, Shea. Damn, she hated it when he was right. She was entitled to some sort of pleasure. She knew a relationship could never bloom between them, he was the Mayor, and she had dark secrets that would more than likely revolt him. But for one night, she could indulge in every fantasy she’d ever had about him.

  Atticus pulled into his driveway and her smile came easy taking in his beautiful home. “Here we are,” he said, before rounding the hood to open her door.

  “It’s beautiful.” He took her hand, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep from simply melting at this touch. Leading her into the house, he took off his mask, and she did the same. The cool air a welcome reprieve against her flushed cheeks.

  Atticus couldn’t believe she was finally in his house. The full force of her beauty struck him; her blue eyes shone brightly at him, almost begging him to make a move. Her silky dark hair fell in a slight wave to her shoulders, thick enough for his hands to get a good grip when he wanted her more exposed to him. She was perfection; a tasty morsel waiting to be sampled.

  Unable to restrain himself, he stepped forward into her space, backing her up against the door. She gasped, surprised, biting down on her lip. He groaned at the sight and lowered his head to allow his tongue to trace the outline of her soft lips gently.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. She tasted so damn sweet. She was intoxicating, a heady drug he couldn’t get enough of. When her arms wound around his neck and her body arched into him, he was lost. Their lips smashed together, each fighting to be the first to taste the other. Their tongues were collided in a war dance, desperate to take more and more of what they each had to offer.

  “Jesus Christ, Shea.” It was like a bomb had gone off, an explosion igniting all of the passion and pent up lust they’d been keeping a tight leash on for months. Her hands fumbled with his belt, seeking entrance, as she tilted her head to allow him to scrape his teeth along the tender flesh of her throat.

  “More,” she begged, her breathy moan snapping the last bit of his control. Snatching her into his arms, he moved through the house at a breakneck pace, never letting his mouth leave her skin. Her shirt got lost somewhere along the way—how the hell did that happen? By the time he reached his bedroom his cock was at full attention, longing to be plunging deep inside her.

  Her tits were spilling out of the push up lacy bra she wore, a fucking tempting feast. They collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, rolling until she was beneath him. He clasped both her hands in his and trapped them above her head, lowering his mouth to nudge her bra aside and take her rosy tipped nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

  “God, yes!” she cried out.

  “You taste fucking amazing, Shea.” He used his free hand to push her pants down her legs, shoving her panties aside and plunging two digits into her already sopping wet pussy. “Goddamn it,” he swore. She was slick, her warm heat enveloping him immediately. Wanting more, he traveled his way down her body, reaching her pussy and diving in with one long swipe of his tongue. She arched instinctively, fighting to get her hands free. Fisting his hair, she rode his face hard, pushing herself until she crashed over the edge in an orgasm that made her see stars.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered, barely able to catch her breath.

  “Oh, I will,” Atticus promised. He gripped her hips and flipped their positions once more, drawing her up onto her knees and taking position behind her. Her perky ass that he’d been fantasizing about for months was now in his grasp. He gave her one hard smack, pleased when her skin flushed the way he knew it would. Unable to hold back any longer, he thrust his hips forward, filling her to the hilt. They both groaned as he set a steady rhythm, building them up with an agonizing pleasure.

  “More,” she begged and he was all too happy to oblige. Their intimacy was primal, his need to possess her almost feral in its nature. She was meant to be his and now that he had her, he’d be damned if she ever got away.

  Reaching beneath her, he twisted her nipples in his fingertips, pleased when her body shuddered in response. Knowing she was close, he pistoned his hips harder to drive them both to their release together.

  Exhausted, he flopped down on the mountain of pillows, delighted when she curled into his side. He wrapped her up in his arms and stroked her hair, closing his eyes to savour the moment.

  Fighting hard to steady her breathing, Shea lay as still as possible, hoping that Atticus would think she’d fallen asleep. He was an incredible lover, they’d been like two animals going at it. She’d never felt a connection so deep.

  Guilt started to creep in, he thought she was an innocent coffee shop worker. A single mom working hard to provide for her daughter. Which was true, but not in the way he thought. It would be so easy to pretend that she was the right type of woman for him; but the truth was, she was the farthest thing from it. No, there was no way for them to be together beyond a one night stand.

  After all, he had an o
bligation to keep their city safe from crime. And she was the city’s worst nightmare.

  Chapter 5

  An incessant buzzing sound roused Shea from a deep sleep. Completely disoriented, she sat up, groping her bed sheets blindly searching for her phone. It was then she realized it wasn’t her bed sheets, and it wasn’t her bed she was in. What the fuck? The memory of Atticus’s mouth all over her body rushed over her. Goddamn it, she’d fallen asleep in his bed. A glance to the right confirmed it, as he was fast asleep on his stomach, the thin white sheet barely covering his ass. She had a quick moment to appreciate the view before her phone started buzzing again.

  Glancing down at the caller ID, she saw it was Henry calling. Grabbing a t-shirt off the floor, she yanked it over her head and tiptoed to the bathroom, not wanting to wake him.

  “Hello?”

  “Shea, thank god. You have to come quick. Fuck— I couldn’t stop them. I tried, I really fucking tried. Think my arm is broken, maybe my nose too. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  “Henry, what the hell are you talking about? Stop who? What happened?” Dashing back to the bedroom, she searched frantically for her pants, uncaring now if she woke Atticus.

  “I—I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know. Shea, fuck, I’m so goddamn sorry. They took Penny.”

  His words made her blood run cold as her vision swam in front of her. A loud ringing sounded in her ears as bile started to rise up her throat. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. The attack was retaliation for the man she’d killed, there was no doubt about it. But her daughter? No, her fucking daughter was never supposed to be involved in any of it.

  “Henry, listen to me very carefully.” She tugged on her pants as she spoke. Across the room, Atticus stirred and sat up, grinning when he spotted her. His smile fell as he took in her expression, a look of concern flashing over his face. “Do not call the cops. Do not go to the hospital. Just wait. Wait there for me, I’m on my way.”