Savages Boxed Set

by Gadziala, Jessica

  The rest of my sentence fell away as the bag he was holding fell to the steps and his hand moved out toward me, catching the ends of my hair and pushing the mass of it behind my shoulder. "Else, what the fuck happened to your neck?"

  Shit. Shit shit shit.

  I'd ripped off my scarf in the kitchen.

  And the bruises were in no way better after another full day. If anything, they almost looked worse.

  "Rome, I..."

  "Is this why you were wearing that scarf the other night?" he asked, his hand settling on the side of my neck as his brown eyes that I always found sweet looked almost... devastated. His other hand went around my back and pulled me against his chest, holding me there tight. I felt his lips press into the side of my head. "Why didn't you tell me? Anything, Else, you can tell me anything. If some asshole did... something..."

  Oh, God. No. While that would certainly be an easier thing to explain, I couldn't let him think I was assaulted like that.

  "No!" I yelped as his arm squeezed me tighter. "No, it wasn't that. Rome, I promise. I was... just... mugged. It was nothing. No big deal. Ease up, I can't breathe," I said, swatting his back and letting out a fake laugh.

  He released me, brows drawn down slightly. "Since when do you keep shit like that from me, Else? This is not 'no big deal'. This is a big fucking deal. Did you report it? Does your father kno..."

  "Rome, I'm a big girl. I handled it." Sort-of. Really some big, arrogant, jackass of a private investigator handled it for me, but regardless, it was handled.

  "Okay," he said, looking hurt again as he leaned down to retrieve the bag he dropped.

  "What kind did you get? I asked, trying for lighthearted and, despite my best efforts, it came off forced.

  "Salted caramel for you and..."

  "Brownie swirl for you," I finished, giving him a smile that I actually did feel. It was nice to realize that, despite my entire world being turned on its axis, some things never really changed.

  He gave me a tight smile that he didn't feel and moved to step inside, making me take a step back, somewhat frantically looking around to make sure Paine had disappeared. I went to the kitchen and got us towels to wrap around the ice cream tubs and spoons and walked back to the living room where Rome had already loaded the DVD into the machine and got the movie going.

  He pulled the top off my gelato and handed it to me, gesturing next to him on the couch. The couch where Paine had just given me a mind-numbing orgasm with just his fingers. I sat down awkwardly, putting my legs up over his as was our usual TV-watching position, and tried to focus on the movie, not the memory of Paine's hands and mouth on me.

  Two hours later, we were watching the credits, ice cream long abandoned on the coffee table. Empty, of course. What monster got a pint of gelato and didn't eat it all in one sitting?

  One of Rome's hands landed on my knee and squeezed, drawing my attention. "What's going on here?" he asked, face impassive, but I knew him well enough to know there was weight behind the question.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Else, honey, things have been weird here," he said, gesturing to the air between us, "for a while now."

  "Rome, it's just been a hell week at..."

  "No," he cut me off, shaking his head. "Not just this week. This has been almost a month. Ever since Elana took off on some harebrained vacation." I closed my eyes tight at that lie and I knew my guilt was all over my face. I knew it and Rome saw it. "Is Elana not on vacation? Is she at some kind of clinic somewhere?" he asked, knowing Elana took her rebellion a bit more seriously than he and I had ever dared. It wasn't crazy to think that she had ended up at some kind of rehab.

  "She's not at a clinic, Rome," I said, feeling tears well up unbidden and trying to blink them away before they were seen.

  But Rome was Rome and he saw them. "Else, honey, what's going on?"

  "She's missing. Not legally, but... she's missing. They wouldn't let me file a report, telling me she probably just took her money and hit a beach somewhere. But she left Alfred in her house without food, Rome. She never would have just... left him to starve to death so she could go get a tan, sip margaritas, and have sex on the beach. No way."

  "Jesus Christ, Else. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

  That was a good question to which I didn't have an answer. I hadn't been the one who originally fed Roman the lie about her going on vacation. That was my father spreading the information far and wide. It got back to Roman's dad, Rhett, and then that got back to Rome. Way before I had even stopped freaking out enough to tell him the truth myself. Why I hadn't corrected him, set things straight, yeah that was completely beyond me.

  I guess I got so busy chasing down leads, trying to understand what happened. I knew Rome would get my need for answers, but he also would have made me be careful, contact the cops again, let him get involved. He damn sure never would have let me go check out the warehouse on Kennedy all by myself.

  I didn't want anyone slowing me down.

  And that made me, well...

  "I'm such a shitty friend," I whimpered, putting my hands up over my face to keep the ugly cry hidden.

  I really, really needed a free hour to myself to get these emotions out of my system so I stopped crying at the drop of a dime. It was getting pathetic.

  "Else, no," Rome said, voice soft again as his arms grabbed me around the back and under the knees, pulling me up onto his lap and letting me pull it together against his neck.

  It took me an embarrassingly long two or three minutes before I remembered that I couldn't do that with Rome anymore. I couldn't cry on his chest. I couldn't sit in his lap. I couldn't keep confusing him. Feeling me stiffen, Rome's arms fell from around me as I scooted off his lap and dropped down on the seat beside him.

  "Sorry. I'm a mess."

  "Oh please. This is nothing. Remember when Alexi dumped you junior year? That was a mess," he teased, bringing up the memory of me ugly snot crying on the abandoned bleachers after school one afternoon, using Rome's school sweatshirt sleeve to wipe at my running mascara. When he had finally gotten me into his car a while later and I pulled down the mirror, yeah, let's just say it wasn't pretty. "This is just someone who works too hard and doesn't ever let anyone else help shoulder her burden so she gets over-tired and emotional thinking she's a shit friend, when she's really the best friend anyone could ask for."

  "Oh yeah? Then how come I haven't asked you what led to gelato and a kickass Robert Downey Jr. and Val Kilmer movie on a Sunday night when you like to get extra sleep for work Monday morning?"

  "Because you have more important things on your mind than my stupid work problems."

  "I never have too much on my mind when you need to talk, Rome."

  He gave me a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I know that, Else. But not tonight. Tonight you need to get some sleep. We will catch up over the week, okay?"

  "Rome really..." I pressed as he moved to stand.

  "Shush. Go on. Go up to bed. Put a cold compress on those eyes and that throat. We'll get coffee after work whatever day works for you, okay?"

  "Okay," I said, giving him a smile as I followed him to the door.

  He pulled it open, turning, then turning back. "You need to talk about this, call me. Don't bottle it up. Okay?"

  "Okay," I agreed and he kissed my forehead and took off down the steps.

  I closed and locked the doors, turned off the DVD and the TV, cleaned up the ice cream, then made my way back upstairs, stopping in my bedroom doorway to untie my shoes and kick out of them before going inside.

  "Don't scream," Paine's deep voice said from somewhere inside the dark room, repeating the first words he ever said to me and making me jump, my heart going into overdrive.

  TEN

  Elsie

  "Jesus Christ," I said, hand slapping down over my heart as I heard his heels kick the platform of the bed as, I imagined, he rose from it. "You were supposed to leave."

  "We had some unfinished business," h
e said, arms going to my hips and sinking in slightly.

  "You were seriously just up in my bedroom in the dark while I was watching a movie with Rome?"

  "Yep."

  "That's kinda creepy," I said, fighting the urge to lean forward and press my face into his chest, breathe in his spicy scent, steal some of his strength.

  "Flick that light on, Elsie," he demanded, pushing me back a step toward the door and the light switch.

  "Why?"

  "When I finally slide inside you, babygirl, I want to watch your face."

  My sex clenched hard, making my thighs tense and my breasts get heavy again. I reached blindly behind me and hit the switch. The room got bright, making me squint for a second until my eyes adjusted. Then Paine was advancing toward me, each step predatory, animalistic. I found myself retreating until the wall prevented any more backing away. Once he got close, his hands went around my back to my ass and sank in hard, lifting me up and off my feet, coaxing my legs into going around his waist. My arms went around his shoulders as he slammed me back against the wall hard as he thrust his hips upward, making his hardness slam against my cleft, and having me moan out his name into his neck.

  His hips pressed in hard, pinning mine to the wall as his hands left my ass. "Arms up," he barked and I hesitantly raised them, a little worried he would drop me. His hands grabbed the material and ripped it off. His hands closed over my heavy breasts, squeezing and kneading. I leaned back against the wall, using all the strength in my legs to move my hips against him while still holding on tight, feeling his cock part my folds and press against my clit. His head moved forward and lowered toward my neck, kissing up to my ear then licking a trail back down, sinking in his lips and sucking.

  I was pretty sure I was going to come just from that.

  Wanting to draw it out, I slipped my legs from around his waist, settling them down on the floor for a second to make sure they would hold me, then pressing Paine back a foot as I lowered down in front of him, hands going to his button and zip as my eyes stayed on his.

  To be perfectly honest, I was hit or miss on whether I wanted to give a blow job or not. Sometimes, well, it was simply a lot less work to have sex. But right then, at the feet of one of the sexiest men I had ever known in person, I wanted nothing more than to take him in my mouth, to hear his hisses and gasps and groans as I worked him, to feel his hands go into my hair, curling in tight when things started to get intense. I wanted his pleasure at my mercy. I wanted that power.

  I pulled down his zip, reaching up and grabbing his pants and boxer briefs and pulling them down at the same time.

  I drew in a long breath as his cock came into view, long and thick and promising a fullness greater than I had known before. But that would come later. After I got to taste him first.

  My hand reached out and closed around his shaft, my thumb stroking over the wet head, before stroking down to the hilt before I ducked my head and moved forward, sticking my tongue out and lavishing heat over the tip of his cock.

  "Fuck," Paine groaned, his hand slamming down on the crown of my head and squeezing, curling into my hair like he was fighting the urge to push me forward.

  On a thrill of accomplishment, I closed my mouth around his cock and sucked hard as I took him as deep as I could before my gag reflex engaged, which was, given his size, about halfway. I moved back up slightly, turning my head in a circular motion as I did so and continuing it as I moved back down, pressing my tongue flat and taking him a little deeper. His taste filled my mouth as he got more turned on, urging me to move faster, each time I got to the tip, running my tongue over and slightly under it, hitting that sensitive spot there before taking him deep again.

  "Fuck Elsie," Paine's voice growled.

  There was a tapping sound on the wall behind me and I thought it was Paine until his hand released my hair and he hissed out, "What the fuck?"

  I flew backward, flinging my hair out of my face.

  "Sounds like someone is having a good time in there," a familiar, cocksure, jackass voice called from the hall. "I hate to interrupt but me and Elsie have some matters to discuss."

  "Fuck off, Sawyer," I growled, hands frantically covering my breasts as I tried to get to my feet. Paine had already snagged his pants and pulled them back up, reaching an arm out to help steady me as I reached for my sweater.

  My life could not be so ridiculous.

  No way had I been interrupted during sexy times twice in one night. By two different men. No way.

  "Sawyer Anderson?" Paine asked me as I struggled into my shirt.

  "The one and only," I snapped, lowering my eyes at the hall.

  "I'll be downstairs while you put your fun bits away. Elsie, babe, I promise I won't be thinking about what your fun bits look like," he commented as he moved down the hall and toward the stairs.

  "How do people keep breaking in here?" I asked, enraged, as I turned to look at Paine.

  "He's a PI who is a bit loose with the law, babygirl. Breaking and entering is nothing to him."

  "Do you have any idea how much that alarm system cost me?" I asked, stalking over toward my bathroom and flicking on the light, trying to get my hair back into some semblance of order as Paine zipped up. "Do you like the guy?" I asked, coming back out into my bedroom.

  "Not particularly."

  "Want to kick his ass for me?" I asked with a small smile at the idea.

  "Say the word and he'll have a nice bed right beside his brother," he said casually and, well, I actually believed him. And that was mildly terrifying.

  "Alright, let's go get this over with," I said on a sigh as I made my way into the hall.

  Paine was behind me as we rounded into my living room to find Sawyer standing there twirling my bra on his finger. "You'd think if you got started down here, there'd be more of a trail leading upstairs," he paused, cocky smile slipping a bit as he watched Paine walk in and settle behind my shoulder. "Should have known that was your Challenger down the block," he commented before turning his attention back toward me, jiggling my bra again. "This mean you're commando under there, babe?" he asked.

  I lunged forward, grabbing the bra out of his hand and balling it up best I could in my fist. "What are you, fifteen? Oooh, she wears a bra. Grow up."

  The snippy-ness was all bluster because, deep down, all I was feeling was mildly mortified. The bra under the couch... that wasn't so bad. Hell, women whip those things off the minute they walk in the door sometimes. It could just be there by happenstance. But, well, he had totally heard me going down on Paine. And while I was a mature, sexually confident person, that kind of thing was personal. No one was supposed to know about it unless I chose to tell them. Certainly no one was supposed to hear or, heaven forbid, see that. Even if someone did accidentally hear or see, they weren't supposed to comment on it. That was a whole new level of rude and disrespectful.

  Paine's arm landed hard across my shoulders, trapping my hair, and pulling me against his side. "What do you got to talk to her about?" Paine asked, badassery practically wafting out of his pores. I tilted my head to look up at him, giving him a small smile that I hoped said 'thank you'.

  "Got coffee?" Sawyer asked, jerking his head toward the kitchen.

  I sighed slightly and nodded. Paine let me go after a small squeeze and they both followed me into the kitchen where Paine set to work making the coffee and I jumped up on the counter, staring the occasional dagger at Sawyer who leaned against the island looking casually comfortable and amused.

  "Alright, we're not waiting for it to drip for you to start talking," I told Sawyer as Paine moved over toward me and stood beside my hip. I wondered if he was aware it was both predatory, like he was staking a claim, and also that he was forming a united front against the guy I kind of wanted to watch Paine put in his place a little. But not really. "I told you we were done. Barrett, and by extension you, are fired."

  "Nice try, babe. But now I'm on a mission to make some mother fuckers pay for putting my brother
in a hospital bed with a concussion, stitches, and busted ribs."

  "Cory Wad," Paine interrupted, drawing both our attention. Paine looked at me. "You told me about the scar on his lip, baby. Only one Third Street guy got a cleft lip scar."

  "Still can't believe you got my fucking brother wrapped up with those shitheads," Sawyer said, shaking his head at the ceiling.

  "Yo," Paine broke in, drawing Sawyer's attention. "Ain't her fault he didn't get more information or backup before he dove in."

  Sawyer sighed, nodding a little, knowing he was right. "Babe, you might not be paying me or him anymore, but I'm not off the case. And I'm pretty sure once Barrett has access to a computer again, he won't be either. It'd be easier if you could tell us what we are in for this time. Save us some time."

  "Why would I want to make your life easier?" I asked with a smile and Paine snorted. "You do realize you've been nothing but an ass since you first talked to me."

  "Not here to make friends, Elsie. I'm here to get a job done. You want answers to something, I'm the man. I won't apologize for not being Mr. Congeniality while I put my life on the line for you."

  Well then. There was really no good way to rebut that, was there?

  I looked at Paine who gave me a small shrug.

  "Alright fine," I conceded. "My sister is missing."

  "Elana," Sawyer declared.

  "Yeah, Elana. She was acting weird for a while and then she wasn't answering. I went over, she was gone. My father told me she cashed in her trust fund. He and the cops think she's off on a beach somewhere."

  "But you think not."

  "She found a jewelry box with a good fifteen dime bags of smack with a Third Street tag on them."

  "So you think she's somehow involved with them? Trust had to be in the millions, babe. Know who your father is. No way could your trusts be under five mil each. She can't spend that kind of money on heroin."

  "We went over that," Paine said, resting a hand on my knee and squeezing.

  "So you're thinking she's dead or wishing she was and her money is circulating in some banger's pockets." I felt myself visibly flinch at his bluntness and, to his credit, Sawyer looked repentant. "Sorry, babe, but we have to consider the worst-case scenarios. Best case, she's on a beach. Slightly less good, but not awful, she got conned. Third, she's in love with some shithead and handed over the money because she was too high to care."