“And you will think about it?”
“Yes,” she says, feeling the need to clarify. “Yes, I will think about being Katharine Kone.”
Her hands glide up the wall as he spins her around, sliding his hand between her ass cheeks and swatting playfully against her rump. Her flesh perks up quick as he smirks. Dev loves her creamy skin and how quickly he can leave his mark.
After working her body and mind up, Dev abandons the shower to go make a breakfast of scrambled eggs and a bowl of Greek yogurt and blueberries. She knows this because of their routine, but never expects a healthy dose of sex or pain or hell, both this morning despite her being aloof with his suggestion.
Feeling a tad rejected by his sudden departure, she wraps up in two towels, one atop her head and one on her body. Stomping into the kitchen, Kate prods, “Devereux Leonard Kone, you weren’t actually serious… Were you?”
“I am. And when the time is right,” he says with his back to her, but turns with a bright simper, “I am going to propose, so prepare yourself.”
“What about children?” she blurts out before sticking her spoon in her mouth. He shoots her one of the sexy, curious gazes as he approaches the counter. She put it out there and he isn’t about to let it drop. “I mean I am 54, you are 31. You have to want them, don’t you?”
Unsure of what to say, he takes a generous bite of eggs and studies her face. “It’s not the end all, but if you want the experience, we’ll adopt or figure something out. Maybe get a dog.”
She laughs. He is so easy. “If you would have come along ten years ago.”
“If I would have come along ten years ago, Sebastian might have a mulatto half-sibling,” he declares with a flick of his brows.
“I wonder if I have any eggs left.”
“There is some on your plate,” he says, putting his dish in the sink. “Oh! Um, I don’t know. I haven’t considered us actually having one. Maybe you should make an appointment.”
“Would you be willing…”
He smiles, taking her hands into his. “Would I be willing to make you a mother again? Not a doubt in my mind I would. If you want a baby, we should do this soon. Not six months from now, but like next week. Make the appointment. I’ll drive up for the day.”
“You don’t have to come with me to the appointment,” she scoffs, shoveling another bite of yogurt into her mouth.
“You bet your fine ass I don’t,” he argues, wiping his hands on a towel. “You are talking about making me a baby daddy. I am going to be there.”
In silence and slight grins, they finish breakfast, grab their things, and enjoy the early morning drive. It will be a beautiful day for a wedding or planning the rest of your life.
This has not been the morning Kate expected. Now, she is going to be not only a wife but a mother again. She couldn’t have been happier as he opened her car door at Juliet.
“You two look like you had an awesome morning,” Mierne smiles, hugging each of them. “The florist finished. She put the flowers for the cake in the fridge and headed over to the chapel.”
As Kate walks towards the garden, the smell overcomes her senses. She brings her hand to her mouth and takes a few deep breaths to keep from crying. Anna started planning for this in January, hiring extra gardeners to come in to insure roses bloomed everywhere in every color imaginable.
Above the normal twinkling lights in the pergola, long, crystalline bulbs resemble tear drops swaying in the light breeze. With swaths of white organza draping off the pergola and perfect pink satin bows punctuating every corner post, the whole scene drools with a stunning romantic appeal. Juliet was a beautiful backdrop for a wedding.
They head out past the barn and stable—close to the lake—and the aroma of roasting meat fills the air. Devereux hugs his uncle who arrived during the rehearsal dinner at Idamae’s last night. Anna set them up in a dorm room, so they could begin cooking in the wee hours of the morning.
Dev introduces Kate to his uncle as he eyes her up and down. Quietly, he gives his nephew a decided wink and nod of approval. Mierne stays behind talking to Seymour and his crew of three.
Taking Kate’s hand in his, Dev escorts her from the lake back to the garden. “It doesn’t have to be like this you know, it could be just us—small and quaint. Hell, we could go to Vegas.”
She laughs, touching his shoulder and leaning into him. Yes, they are in love with one another, and it is quite obvious to everyone who knows them. They stop off in the kitchen to approve the flowers for the cake and everything seems to be moving along splendidly.
This summer night the gaudy wedding will delight and awe everyone in their kinky landscape. Kate is proud, damn proud. She manages to pull off the ginormous shindig, fall in love, and keep her sanity. Proud doesn’t really cover it.
Walking back to the car, they pass by Mitch as he grabs her arm. “Is Iris coming?”
“You know, I really have no clue,” she consoles. “I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks. If I knew, I would tell you.”
“If you see her,” Mitch desperately implores, “Tell her I need to talk to her, please.”
“Of course,” she acknowledges, clutching tight to Dev’s hand. Mitch nods and strides off, his sole focus on speaking to Iris and dodging the angry Italian.
“That is one fucked up young man,” Devereux observes, pulling out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Raniero. He needs to know what is going down.” They continue strolling towards the car. “Dammit, he isn’t answering. You want me to drive?”
“Do I,” she boasts, tossing the keys. “And he’s probably not up yet, it is early.” Before getting into the car, she turns around and smiles at the giant white poster board above the gate printed with a picture of the happy couple.
Shelby & Terry’s Wedding Reception
and
Magic in the Woods
a Dom/sub auction
Kate takes a picture as Devereux places his hand on the small of her back and suggests with a low whisper, “Mrs. Devereux Kone.”
She beams a smile and even allows a giggle to escape her lips. Yes, it is going to be a good day and little does she realize this was never supposed to have been a part of Devereux’s plans for the day.
In the birth of deception, Dev wonders if he can have a bachelor party with the puppet and her famous pussy.
Making his way to the car, Mitch plops into the passenger seat and logs onto the Gray Market, the underground criminal hub. He quickly finds the one thing he is looking for under new auctions—Zoe Hess.
He prequalifies to bid and is immediately granted access to her file, including statistics and pictures. There are fifteen others watching the Zoe Hess auction. He flips through them quick as an update flashes across the screen—bidding for Rie Ford Services will begin at approximately ten PM EST—Iris Kettles’ alter-ego, tension relief specialist.
After submitting his request, Mitch sets the laptop in the driver’s seat and gets out to smoke a cigarette. He drops his sunglasses over his eyes and plays it cool as he scans the lot.
From the bird’s eye view parking spot, he can see the entire wedding party as they arrive, but they cannot see him, tucked behind a row of hedges and by a tree line.
Opening the trunk, Mitch grabs the black case and puts the box into the backseat floorboard. There would be plenty of time to assemble the rifle later in the day.
Hearing sweet-sounding male voices, he peers into the lot at Mack and Sebastian meeting up with Kate and Devereux.
“So, that is who you are fucking, Larrabee… I wonder if Raniero knows?”
From back inside the car, Mitch takes a few surveillance shots with his camera zoomed in and sends them anonymously to Sal’s phone via the Gray Market site. Sal may not care, but then again, he might offer a hefty chunk of change to take Mack out as well as his other intended target.
After sending the email, he posts an ad to the site to publish and go live at exactly
9:57 PM only to close three minutes later. A quick bid and he will have two birds with one location.
You’re approved for bidding on Rie Ford Services.
Scrolling through the pictures, Mitch mutters, “Iris… Iris… Iris… you won’t say no to me again, bitch.”
Unzipping his pants, he strokes his cock fast while staring at her beautiful face. Panting and pumping hard, he cums all over his hand with a groan. With thoughts of the Iris auction on his mind, this is the third time he’s jacked off today.
Reclining his seat, he settles in for a long day of waiting as he licks his own cum from his hand. Staring at the screen with her smiling portrait, Mitch whispers, “Soon, your cunt will be mine.”
In a hotel room in Dallas, Cas pulls the rollers out of her hair and blots her crimson lips. The reflection in the vanity mirror portrays a troubled girl, so she avoids gazing too long.
“You look like Kacilyn…” Cristos says in a heavy accent, coming up behind and kissing her head. “You are so beautiful.” His hands grope her lace covered breasts as he rubs the fabric briskly and arouses her nipples. He pushes his hardening cock into her back. “You pay attention today at this wedding, so we can have our own soon.”
“Of course, Poppa,” she says, rising up as he takes her hand.
“Shall I help you dress?” he offers as a question, but it comes across as more of a statement. Taking her designer black dress off the hanger, he drops the gown over her and adds, “I will be speaking to Anna today about your dismissal from the school. I want you to come home to Athens with me, but you should keep your credentials from the school—you earned them after all.”
“I doubt she will ever agree to that. I have taken too many leaves of absence,” Cas says, twirling in his arms.
“Cassidy, I am on the board,” he replies smoothly, “There isn’t anything we cannot do. With me, you are untouchable.”
“Yes, Poppa,” she says.
“Now, I have to run downstairs for a moment. You will be okay?” he asks as she nods. “I will return soon with our driver. Be ready to leave.”
As soon as the door shuts, Cas retrieves a small vial of coke out of her purse and dips her finger, enjoying the cut. “No more street for you, kiddo,” she whispers, licking her lips and grabbing her phone. Quickly, she signs into her bank account and reads the vast number—thanks to her newly acquired Daddy—and sends five grand to M. Daniels with a note that reads—for services due.
A text message appears on her screen from Saber, “Thank you. Can I call you?”
“Yes.”
Seconds later the phone rings, Cas smiles, keeping an eye on the door. “Are you in position?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good,” she snarls, “When you get a chance…”
“I’ll take out the target, don’t worry,” he boasts, confidently. “You want more phone calls to the dead whore?”
“Yes,” she connives, “And when you are done pillaging her body, eliminate her mind.”
His quick breaths lead to her biting her lip. “Are you touching yourself, Saber?” she questions, reaching between her own legs. From her purse, she pulls out the small vibrator and places it against her clit. “You getting all worked up over thinking about what you are going to do to her?”
“Yes,” he moans.
“Mhmm,” Cas replies as the waves of pleasure surge. “Are you thinking about how good it’s going to feel to finally have her?”
Groaning over the phone, he mutters, “…Yes.”
“And how much you are going to render him useless when you take her away?”
“God yes…” he pants as she hears the pumping of his strokes. “I’m gonna fuck her up.”
“Yes, Mitch…” she reassures, moving the vibe faster and faster as the thoughts of a broken Sal send her spiraling over the edge. “You are. Now cum.”
By noon, Scarlet House blooms alive with guests as they mingle and nibble on tiny sandwiches and drink pink champagne.
The open bar starts the festivities off early on the day of the wedding, and it doesn’t take long before a couple of the guests are border lining drunk.
“Come on, I want to go see the dungeon,” Sebastian begs, gripping onto Mack’s arm as they linger on the outskirts of the garden.
“Fine,” he agrees reluctantly. “But if I take you inside, you have to behave.”
Sebastian Dubois, son of Kate Capri and the Maestro, beams a smile as his long chestnut curls frame his angular, stunning face. “How did you even get the key?”
“I stole it,” Mack admits as they walk the steps up to the antebellum mansion and sneak inside.
Carrying on, Sebastian asks, “From where?”
“I have my sources,” Mack suggests with a wink as they carefully dodge the wait staff and guests.
“Did you get the dungeon cleaned up?” the text message on Mack’s phone flashes.
“I did, Sir,” Mack responds quickly.
Seconds later, another text lights upon his screen. “Good, I’ll be taking my lovely fiancée there after the wedding. And Mack, not a word—to anyone.”
He responds, “You keep my secrets and I will keep yours, Jack.”
Sitting in the bar of the cabaret, Jaid discreetly watches the comings and goings of the rich and elite. Her thoughts lead her to a place where she wishes for understanding why the social hounds insist on schmoozing with people they cannot stand.
Namely—Dom Gennaro dancing cheek to cheek with none other than the Lydia Kettles—apparently, Lily Miller-Armstong and her are best friends.
The phone flashes alive in Jaid’s hand and underneath the text—“same”—a new message appears, the one she has been waiting for. “Come see me—Stables.”
Hastily, she types, “Are you here?”
“Grins.”
Hopping off the barstool, Jaid rushes through the crowd in her long blue strapless gown and red heels. Her dirty blonde hair held back with two ruby embellished combs.
Working her way through the storage hall, she grabs a bottle of Jim Beam and a thing of maraschino cherries as she bites her lip excitedly. The second she hits the path to the stables, she scours the grounds for any unsuspecting eyes, removes her shoes, and runs as fast as she can.
Standing in the middle of the stable, Sal spins around in boots and jeans. Sprinting towards him, she cries, “Oh my god, you are really here!”
He picks her up in his arms and spins her around. “I couldn’t stay away. Not when I found out she is going up on the auction block.”
“Sal…she was the bachelor party last night.”
The fury rises in his eyes as he rages, “What?”
“I found out at four AM and swore to Dale I wouldn’t say anything,” she says as he takes the bottle from her hands and walks through the stable. “I know your heart and soul want to believe one thing, but I am telling you there is something not right,” Jaid mentions, cracking open the cherries. “Your truck is filthy!”
“I am filthy,” he says, sitting on the overlap of the foundation outside. After lighting up a smoke, he proceeds to twist off the lid on the whiskey. “… Really, cherries?”
“Always,” she says with a smile, taking the bottle and swigging a shot. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to do the only thing I can do,” Sal says, fingering at the sweet, red fruit. “I am going to go get my girl and pray this is a misunderstanding.”
“…A misunderstanding?” she scoffs, blinking wildly. “You know you asked me to keep Dale entertained and off your back, and I have done such. But there is no way—in heaven or hell—I would ever accept what happened at her initiation or last night. I am not sure what kind of girl would.”
“You think she is a slut?”
“I think she is a loose, glass cannon,” Jaid warns. “And I think if you aren’t really careful, she will blow up at you.”
“Then I guess we should say goodbye.”
“Sal…” Jaid whispers, touching
his hand. “Don’t.”
“I am stuck, babe. I am bound by my professional oath and my private nightmares. I cannot just walk away from this.”
“Kaci put you on this wild goose chase,” she replies, touching his knee. “It doesn’t mean you have to be the goose.”
“Can I be the wild?”
“It would be better than this—depressed, apathetic shadow of Sal—you have been for the past few months.”
“Fine,” Sal says, leaning in and kissing her lips soft. Standing up, he brings her to her feet and carries her up to the hay loft. Her eyes beg with seduction as she lifts the hem of her dress and reveals her bare puss. Running his hand through his dirty hair, he praises, “Jesus fuck…”
He dives in recklessly. Relentlessly, he licks and sucks until she bucks against his scruff and begs, “Make love to me, Sal.”
With his vulnerable, emotional side showing, Sal takes Jaid on a journey with a long goodbye as she closes her eyes and prays this won’t be their last roll in the hay.
With his final thrust, Sal comes as she clenches around his shaft with a deep sigh. His running away is forbidden as she holds his body close and nuzzles his neck with a whisper, “Phoenix, I love you.”
Laying his head in the crook of her neck, he grins. “You know, I love you, Ghost.”
“Don’t get yourself killed.”
“I won’t,” he assures, kissing her neck and rocking his hips in their mess. “You don’t get yourself killed.”
“Never.”
But sometimes love just isn’t enough to conquer an addiction—even to a woman with a siren song.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Enchanting Lula Gregory, aka Tank's Daughter
SAL
IMPOSSIBLE TO MISS, THE sport coupe BMW Z-4 sits in Serene’s spot near the door. If nothing else—she is here and that is good. Ultimately, she will take care of me regardless of anything else.
All too understanding.
All too forgiving.
Pulling up to the valet haphazardly, I toss the keys to Derek who is working the entrance. With a decent bro shake, he says, “Hey man, I didn’t expect to see any of the Raniero or Stanton crowd tonight. Now you are both here!”
Salt Kissed Love (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 1) Page 46
