by Skye Darrel
“That’s a big promise.”
“I only make promises I can keep.”
Jaime took me to the sofa, and we made love. Then we fucked. I’ve learned there’s a difference. When we make love, he’s gentle and passionate. He’s Jaime. When we fuck, he’s rough and dominant. He’s Daddy Sullivan.
I like both.
As Daddy, he bent me over one arm of the sofa. Squeezing my breasts, he spanked me for minutes before his finger stroked down my drenched folds. Then I felt his probing tongue. He’d already cum inside me, but that didn’t stop Daddy from licking down there. That didn’t stop him from getting hard.
He’s insatiable.
Daddy lifted one of my legs on the sofa’s armrest, stretching me wide open. With his hand in my hair, he thrust into my sopping pussy from behind. I savored the hot pressure in my belly, edging toward my fourth orgasm of the night. I felt every inch of Daddy’s thick cock. I lost track of time, lurching back and forth under the force of his impacts with my eyes shut, dizzy with pleasure, whimpering softly as his cock pumped between my walls. His hips slapped on my buttocks with every thrust.
I cried out my pleasure and came one more time.
When wetness ran down my thighs, Daddy bent down, still gripping my hair, and he yanked my head around to kiss me.
His body shook as he peaked. I felt his cock pushed against the roof of my pussy, his hot cum spewing out to coat my deepest place. The sensation gave me the most intense orgasm of my life, and I couldn’t breathe, my muscles were squeezing so hard. I was finally spent.
Afterward, in the heat of the moment, I told him in a bratty voice that Daddy should clean up the mess he made. He should clean with his mouth.
“Dirty little girl,” Daddy growled, smacking my butt.
He carried me upstairs to my bedroom and laid me on my back. He licked me clean, and he took his sweet time. Whenever his cum seeped out of me, Daddy would push it back into my pussy. I blushed so hot I nearly fainted.
He wants to get me pregnant. He wants to possess me forever.
Tossing in bed now, I wish I could stop thinking about this man who knows how to touch me just the right way. Like he can read my mind. This man who seems to be made for me alone. I don’t know, it feels like I’m under a spell. He’s a mobster for crying out loud. I must be going crazy.
I hear the door open downstairs. Footsteps patter up the staircase. The bedroom door opens, and Jaime stands there shirtless, sweat running down the muscles that pack his torso. That delicious groove in his hips, like an arrow to his cock, turns my tummy to water.
“Had a good jog?” I’m annoyed he left me alone longer than usual, and I’m annoyed how he makes me feel just walking into a room.
Jaime sits at the side of the bed and kisses my hand. “I’m sorry, baby. I needed to think.”
“About what?”
“How to handle Caspian Rourke. I can’t keep you here forever.”
“Did you just figure that out?”
Jaime smirks. “You’re mad, baby girl. You’re mad because Daddy didn’t taste you this morning.”
“I-I’m not mad.”
He pulls the sheets off my legs and sees my folds glistening. The tent in his pants bobbles up. “Such a needy little pussy. Daddy will take care of you.”
I spread my legs as Jaime climbs on, his masculine scent washing over me. God, even his sweat smells good. He frees his cock and strokes himself as I open my legs.
A ringtone makes me jolt.
Jaime curses and pulls a phone out of his pocket, taking the call without speaking. He frowns when it ends.
“Who is it?”
“Caspian Rourke. He has your friend Sarah.” Jaime leans back. “He wants to meet tonight.”
6
Jaime
There’s a river north of Boston called the Mystic. When I was a boy, I heard stories about the old mobsters who buried bodies in the wetlands along the banks. I found out later some of those stories are true. I know grown men, hardened killers, who avoid the river because they believe it’s cursed. Its waters bring bad luck.
The Mystic has never frightened me. It existed long before the mob, and it will always exist. The Mystic’s taint doesn’t come from curses. Men taint its waters with their evils, and I’ll end one such evil tonight.
No fucking way will I allow Caspian Rourke to lay a finger on the woman I love. The Mystic will be a witness to what happens tonight.
I park my car near the bank. It’s a remote location, trees and marshes all around, and the only light comes from the headlights of a van parked at the water’s edge. The air smells of wet earth and rot. I get out and walk toward the light, hardly feeling the cold. Every nerve in my body is on high alert.
The headlights outline Rourke’s figure. He’s wearing the leather jacket he loves so much. Nearby, two of his men spread out to either side of me, stepping in and out of the light beams.
“You carrying?” Rourke says.
“I’m not armed. Where’s Sarah?”
Rourke folds his hands in front of him. “In the van. Where’s Nicole Burch?”
“Safe.”
“You agreed to bring her.”
“You agreed to come alone.”
Rourke smiles. “No honor among thieves.”
I'm no fool. Tonight will be the last night on earth for Rourke or me. “Nicole Burch is a civilian. She’s not part of our world. You made a mistake going for her.”
“She’s a witness.” Rourke smirks. “Don’t tell me you like her.”
“I love her.”
“A lot of women in the world. Love another one.”
“Not for me.”
Rourke chuckles. “Jaime fucking Sullivan, still playing choir boy. You always were sentimental. Nothing comes from sentiment except weakness. Fuck ‘em and forget ‘em, that’s my motto.”
“You’re wrong.”
“One of us is wrong.”
“We’ll find out,” I say.
“Three against one isn’t a fair fight, Sullivan. Give up.”
“You forget, I have luck on my side.”
Rourke’s eyes flicker, and I hear faint breathing behind me.
A wire drops around my neck. One of Rourke’s men tries to strangle me, but he gave himself away too soon. My hand’s already up against my throat, catching the sharp wire. It bites into my palm. Instinct takes over, and I hurl back knocking my would-be killer to the ground.
A knife gleams in the darkness. Rourke’s other man rushes me before I kick his legs away. All three of us grapple on the ground. I jab quick punches at eyes and throats, aiming to kill, and they screech in pain. I catch a glimpse of Rourke standing eight feet away, staring in disbelief.
He underestimated me. For him this is routine cleanup. I’m fighting for Nicole. My life means nothing, hers everything. I think of what they’ll do to her if I lose, and fury swells in my body.
Rourke’s bodyguards are soon lifeless with a broken neck and crushed throat. He’s still standing there fumbling at his pistol. It’s jammed. He pulls the trigger again and again. Click. Click. “Fuck!”
I walk over and punch his face. Rourke falls, nose bleeding, and a stunned smile creases his lips. I pick up Rourke’s gun and take aim.
Smiling, he shakes his head. “You really are a lucky bastard.”
I shoot him dead.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear a howl. Must be a stray dog. I get the van keys from Rourke’s jacket and unlock the back doors. Nicole’s friend is hogtied in the back with a rag in her mouth. I yank it out.
“They’re gone,” I tell her.
She sobs as I untie the ropes.
“Where’s Nikki?”
“She’s safe.”
Sarah gets a good look at me and shirks back. “You! You were there that night. You’re one of them.”
“I was never one of them.” I offer my hand. “It’s over. I’ll take you to Nicole.”
I drive Sarah back to my house near the bea
ch. She sits in a stupor in the passenger seat. It happens to everyone the first time they witness survival at its most brutal. Nothing can prepare you for it. Sarah dozes off by the time we arrive. Nicole’s waiting on the porch with Chomper in her arms. She sets the cat down and runs toward me.
I take her in a hug, burying my nose in her hair.
“Is it over?” she says.
“It’s over.” For Nicole at least.
I step away and stare into her eyes. I love her with all my heart.
Not long ago, I lived in a zone where emotions didn’t exist. I was empty inside, half-dead, a walking corpse. I didn’t realize until I met Nicole, and she brought me back to life. As long as I stay in the mob, we could never live in peace. She would never be safe.
I must sort things out with Fogarty Croy. But retiring won’t be so simple.
“What’s wrong?” Nicole asks.
“I’ll drive you two back to the city.” I let my words linger, and Nicole hears the unspoken. I’m about to leave her.
She says nothing for a while. She doesn’t cry. A sad smile forms on her mouth, and it’s a thousand times worse than tears. “All that talk about having babies together. Were you bluffing, Jaime Sullivan?” Her smile dies when I don’t answer. “Will I see you again?”
I can’t say.
I kiss her forehead and take her to the car. I can't make a promise I might not keep.
7
Nicole
Moving boxes are still scattered around my new apartment in Akron. It’s a tiny place on the second floor of a very old building, but the rent is cheap, and my grandparents live fifteen minutes away. I moved back to Indiana three months ago.
Sarah and I stay in touch, but we don’t get together anymore. Seeing me reminds her of what happened that night, and she wants to forget. Both of us are taking a break from college. I got a receptionist job in my hometown while she moved back with her parents.
The death of Caspian Rourke is all over the news. The headlines call him a notorious Boston mobster, wanted in over fifty murders. But there’s no mention of Jaime or that mob boss, Fogarty Croy. Sarah and I gave an interview with the Massachusetts State Police. We agreed not to mention Jaime. She’s grateful he saved her life, and I have my own very personal reasons.
I love him, or thought I did. I waited two weeks before leaving Boston. But he never came back. I didn’t even know his number. I tried searching for him on Facebook before I realize how stupid that was.
I have no idea if Jaime’s dead or alive.
Some days, I feel betrayed. Abandoned. Other days, I think back to those nights we shared at his house on the beach, and heat would rise in my belly.
He haunts my dreams and waking thoughts. He changed my life and left it in pieces. Maybe he really is gone. Maybe Fogarty Croy had him killed. Maybe Jaime Sullivan’s luck finally ran out. I don’t know.
I lean over the balcony of my apartment to watch the sunset. A warm breeze blows through my hair. The street below is quiet and peaceful.
I should forget him, but I can’t. Whenever I close my eyes, I see Jaime’s face.
I can change my surroundings. I can change what I see and hear and smell. But I can’t change what I feel. There’s no pretending to be whole. Love can’t be faked—that’s what grandma once said. I used to think that’s corny, but now I know different.
I throw myself on the bed and shut my eyes.
Sleep.
Darkness wraps me like a shroud. I feel something, a finger, tracing down my throat.
I scream before a hand muffles my mouth. Jaime is straddled over my hips. I must be dreaming, but his hand is warm, and his scent fills my nose. Moonlight from the windows throws silver across his sharp features.
“Hello, baby girl.”
I moan when his finger skims to the dip between my collarbones.
Jaime leans down and growls in my ear. “I missed you.”
“H-How did you get in?” It’s the only thing I can think of to say.
“I picked your lock.”
Jaime turns on the lamp, and when I see his handsome face in the warm glow, all chills drain from my body. What I feel now can’t be faked. Heat sweeps to my toes as my heart thumps.
He smiles faintly. “I thought about climbing the balcony. Didn’t want one of your neighbors mistaking me for a burglar.”
My breathing turns ragged when I feel the hard shape of his cock on my belly. “How did you find me?”
“Hush. I’ll tell you later.”
I clutch the sheets, my body churning. “Tell me now.”
“Later. I need you now.”
“You can't just come in here and . . . ” I trail off as Jaime opens his shirt and shows me his hard, rugged abs and that powerful chest.
“Daddy’s here.”
“Oh God.”
“Have you been a good girl? Did you give away what’s mine? Has anyone touched this little pussy?” He cups my groin, rubbing through my damp panties. “Tell Daddy the truth.”
“No, Daddy.” The words leave me so easily, and we slip back into our roles. He makes me feel safe and comfortable, and at the same time, he stokes a fire like no one else. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
He grits his jaw. “Good girl.”
“What about you?” I try to keep the jitters out of my voice. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
I blush. “Did you cheat on your little girl?”
“I love you, Nicole. You own my cock, only you.”
“Show me,” I whisper. “Show me, Daddy.”
Jaime scoots off the bed and sheds his clothes, revealing every inch of his hard body. The lamp cuts sexy shadows across his stomach that makes me shiver inside. His massive cock juts up in a veined arc, cum leaking out, and he strokes himself as I watch. Still so shameless. Still so untamed.
My panties stick to me before Jaime pulls them off. He bends over and sniffs my arousal. His mouth opens. The lightest lick skims over my swollen clit.
“So sweet.”
My face burns hotter.
Jaime straddles me again, his abs caving and flexing in thick ridges. He pulls off my tank top and squeezes my breasts, suckling my nipples like a man dying of thirst.
“No more waiting. You’re going to cum on Daddy’s cock.”
Daddy slides into me in one slow thrust that makes me arch off the bed. His thickness stretches me open, and he doesn’t stop until my drenched folds cling to the very base of his shaft. Daddy’s body grinds against my clit as our mouths seal together.
My walls ripple, and my orgasm explodes. I cry out his name. I cry out Daddy. I forget everything but the sharp pleasure slicing through my belly.
Jaime keeps me pinned. He thrusts in and out, fucking through my climax, knocking the headboard against the wall. I spill into a second wave that blurs my vision in hot white.
“Such a wet little pussy.”
Writhing, I reach down to clutch the hard meat of his buttocks, smacking them to remind Daddy what his little girl needs. Not words.
Jaime grabs my neck, smashing his mouth against mine. His hips swing harder and faster, his cock a piston in my squishing pussy. He leans back and hooks his thumb in my mouth. He slaps my breasts, kisses my throat, and bites my nipple. I clench against him, pleasure twisting through my body, and I erupt with his whole cock inside me, my mouth wide open gasping for air.
Daddy sucks on my tongue as he cums inside me. We collapse together, his still-hard cock buried in my pulsing channel.
“Jaime,” I moan. “Take it out. Oh . . . I can’t stand it.”
He pulls back, dragging on my sensitive walls, the feeling so intense it almost hurts. I wrench my hands through the sheets. Jaime grimaces, his cock coated in our cum.
“Fuck, Nicole.”
I run my hands over the coarse stubble that covers his jaw. “Tell me how you found my place. Why did you wait so long?”
“I had no choice, baby. I had to settle my affairs. I had to ma
ke sure no one would come after me—or us. First there was Fogarty Croy. Then my other boss.”
“What other boss?”
“Captain Pierson of the Massachusetts State Police.” Jamie sighs. “I was undercover, Nicole. I was a cop.”
I stare at him shock. “You told me you joined the mob because they handled your father’s debt.”
“I didn’t lie. My father’s debt, my family’s history with Fogarty Croy—it made me perfect as an undercover. Fogarty Croy trusted me. Nicole, I lived a double life for eight years, and it was fucking hell. A lotta times even I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be. What my purpose was. Until I met you.” Jamie holds my hand. “That’s all over. I’m retired.”
“Retired?”
“Retired,” Jaime says. “Fogarty let me out as a reward for killing Rourke. That sonofabitch was a loose cannon anyway. Then I spoke with Captain Pierson. I won’t be getting a pension, but he accepted my resignation. The last thing I did was find out where you moved to. And here I am.”
“What about Fogarty Croy?”
“He’s someone else’s problem. He won’t bother us. I’m done with that life. I’m done with everything. I came for you. I want us to live—”
“Happily ever after?”
Jaime runs a hand over my thigh. “Yes.”
“And where are we going to live?” I look around my cramped apartment, my head spinning.
“I’ll buy a piece of land, build a house. No one will find us.” Jaime leans into me. “I’ll make you happy, on one condition.”
“What?”
Jaime gets his jeans and takes out a diamond ring and puts it on my finger. “Marry me.”
“And what if I say no?”
He gets between my legs. “I’m gonna make you cum until you say yes.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I add in a whisper, “Daddy.”
Epilogue
Nicole
Eight months later
* * *
It’s almost Thanksgiving, and we should be shopping for the holidays, but my husband has other things in mind. I’m tied to the bed spread out, completely naked, a strip of satin cloth blindfolding my eyes. I shiver with anticipation. We make love every day like normal people, but some nights, like tonight, we have our special playtime.
