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Scarlett and the Feds

Page 4

by Baker, S. L.


  Victor shot back a text:

  Yes you will. Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Where the fuck have you been?

  Scar jumped in the front seat to cover the agent’s eyes so I could reply.

  Long story. Best told over a glass of wine. I will be home in an hour or so.

  “Miss, I said no texting. Give me your phone and I will return it when we arrive at your vehicle.”

  “No,” I said. “It won’t happen again.”

  He didn’t reply and kept driving.

  Twenty minutes later I arrived back at the Honda. I jumped out of the sedan as soon as he stopped and slammed the door behind me. I unlocked the door to the Honda and sat still until I watched the Sedan round the corner disappear. I had thirty minutes to come up with a believable story of where I had been the last four hours without my phone to tell Victor. The deeper I got, the more I ended up lying to the people I loved the most. The only way I could make myself feel less guilty was also the only way to keep them all safe.

  Scarlett was on Amazon ordering a safety net for the tightrope I was walking on. I could fall at any second and we both knew that.

  Chapter 5

  As I drove back to Salvatore Disney Land, I was lost in the events of the last few hours and the deal I had made with the FBI. Victor, I hoped, was simmering down. I’d told him that I’d run out of gas, and left my phone in the car as I went to find a gas station on foot. He had not been happy. As I entered the house, I glanced at the time, it was close to eight. The house smelled like heaven soaked in marinara sauce as Mrs. Lombardi had dinner in the oven and the table set. I was so tempted to chug the glass of wine waiting patiently for me at the table.

  Victor grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. I got that ache in the pit of my stomach that was in a wrestling matching with my sweet spot, which was ripe and ready to go. It would have to wait until after dinner. I slid out of my skirt and blouse, and stood in just my panties and bra, brushing my hair.

  “That’s a beautiful view. Don’t move, let me drink it in.”

  I blushed and my sweet spot had my stomach in a choke hold. She needed to be satisfied first, dammit.

  “Do your little Southern girl twirl.”

  I giggled and started twirling in front of Victor. He smiled and grabbed me in mid twirl. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and I was standing in between those olive skinned toned legs, his muscular hands on my ass kneading and massing. My sweet spot knocked my stomach out cold with a right hook and Scarlett did the count-down three-two-one— and then rang the bell. Out. My sweet spot was a raging forest fire as Victor un-hooked my bra and sucked each one of my nipples, his hands still massaging my ass. His fingers sliding under the lace of my panties tormenting my sweet spot. Scarlett whipped out a pair of scissors to cut off my panties. Victor grabbed my hips and pushed me onto his lap, his lips devouring every inch of mine. I could feel my orgasm building fast.

  He whispered in my ear his warm breath giving me chills. “I love you so much, baby.”

  “I love you too,” I whispered.

  “You know how worried I was today?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” And started kissing him again, he had his hand on my lower back and was flicking my nipples with his other hand.

  “We’ve talked about what happens when I’m out of my mind because you don’t answer your phone or do something careless like run out gas, and forget your phone.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” My orgasm was breaching its banks and my sweet spot was begging to have Victor inside of me.

  His hand on my lower back pushed me forward so I was over his left knee. I was panting. Victor tormented me by tracing his finger down my back to the edge of my panties; he slid them down enough to kiss the top of my ass. His third pass my panties ended on the floor. Scarlett grabbed them and put them on her head. Victor inserted two fingers and began his exploration to find my G spot. I was squirming with pleasure and anticipation. He pulled both fingers out quickly, and then thrust them in fast. I came hard and so did the first slap. It was so loud Scarlett put in ear plugs. It was a feeling of sheer ecstasy, both sensations of orgasm and mild pain in a potent elixir that was irresistible to my sweet spot.

  I knew this was the consequences of Victor’s over protectiveness, but it turned me on and I was beginning to enjoy getting spanked. The orgasm was one for the record books and Scarlett licked the end of her pencil as she jotted it down. The next several slaps were hard and fast. He stopped and rubbed my burning ass, then took his index finger and rubbed the edges of my crack, and pushed a finger inside my sweet spot.

  “You’re so wet and ready for me. Just a little longer.”

  I couldn’t speak. I was consumed by the yearning from my sweet spot. An orgasm was building like an F4 tornado. Victor pulled his fingers out of my sweet spot and stopped caressing my ass. He sat still. His breathing rapid and focus, the next blow was hard and stung. I drew in a sharp breath. He wasn’t using his hand anymore. The blows were hard and spread out. They were so rapid I had no time to catch my breath and tears filled my eyes.

  Out of instinct I tried to put my left hand up to protect my burning ass. He grabbed it in his free hand and continued. I was at my breaking point. This was by far the most painful spanking I’d endured. He wasn’t playing anymore and wanted me to know it. I had yelled out in pain and he stopped. I lay across his lap and couldn’t even move. That was fuckin’ hard to endure. He pulled me up and held me. My body spent. My blurry eyes saw my enforcer, a paddle, lying on the bed next to him and I realized that was what he just spanked the shit out of me with.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I know that was hard,” he said, still holding me.

  “No you’re not. I really think you get off on it, Victor.”

  “Is that what you think? That I’m so kind of sadistic bastard?” His tone was strained.

  “No,” I said, my face still buried in his shoulder.

  “You’re so stubborn and independent and I love and hate that about you at the same time. I don’t know any other way to make you listen to me. Every time I turn around you’re deliberately doing the opposite of what I asked you to do. I’m trying to keep you safe. Especially now,” he said gently kissing my forehead.

  “I know,” I said.

  He took my face and held it in between his hands and kissed away each tear. Scarlett was starving and so was I. Victor got up off the bed and threw on some jeans and a faded t shirt.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You ready to eat?” he asked.

  “I’ll be there soon,” I said. “I need to wash my face.” And burn that paddle, I said to myself.

  “Ok, baby. See you downstairs,” he said kissing the tip of my nose.

  My sweet spot was ready for round two with my stomach, but this time my stomach beat the crap out of my sweet spot. Before I was lured by the smells of heaven on a plate, Scarlett walked out of the closet dressed in a dominatrix outfit, ready and tapping the riding crop in her hand. She was ready to spank the devil out of Victor. She had an evil smirk on her face ready for pay back. I pointed back to the closet. She sighed and disappeared inside to sulk.

  The smells luring me to the kitchen didn’t disappoint. Each mouthful of the chicken parmesan was beyond amazing. I chugged my wine in two gulps and Mrs. Lombardi poured me another. It was my favorite, the Chianti from Salvatore vineyards that I loved so much. I shifted in my chair as my ass was throbbing. Scarlett ran to fetch a pillow for me to sit on, pushing the cannoli in her mouth.

  “Are you okay, dear?” Mrs. Lombardi asked raising her left eyebrow.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m fine,” I said shooting a glance in Victor’s direction.

  He pretended not to see the heat seeking missiles heading his way.

  “Dinner is amazing as usual, thank you.”

  “My pleasure, sweetheart,” she said patting my shoulder as she left the room.

  Scarlett was back with my pi
llow and chucked it at me on her way to find more cannolis.

  We both sat silent savoring every bite. I sensed Victor’s thoughts were elsewhere.

  “Is there something you want to tell me, Angelina?” he said breaking the silence.

  “No,” I said. “Why?” I hated lying to him and we promised to be more transparent with each other. However, I would keep him safe and out of prison no matter what I had to do.

  “I’m not sure. I just get the feeling you’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not, babe. I promise.” I crossed my fingers behind my back and so did Scarlett.

  I got up from the table, walked over to Victor, and put his hands on my hips. My lips devoured his like they were starving. He pulled me into his lap, our tongues intertwined together, my sweet spot threw a gasket and steam was shooting fifty feet in the air. Scarlett shoved all the dishes to the floor.

  Victor laid me on the dining room table and his lips moved from my mouth to my neck. He was unbuttoning my silk blouse as he fondled and sucked each breast. My back arched and I was trying to unbutton his jeans. Scarlett helped, she was pulling them off faster than I could. Victor used his teeth to unbutton my pants and slide them off.

  Scarlett stood guard by the door in case Mrs. Lombardi returned with dessert, though if it was cannoli, Scarlett would abandon her post without a second thought.

  Victor ripped off my panties and wasted no time. He thrust his manliness inside my sweet spot which was as wet and ready as a slip and slide. My legs were draped over his shoulders and his hands were on my hips. My orgasm arrived at the same time as Victor’s and for a split second I worried the table would crash to the ground.

  Scarlett put a finger to her lips to shush us, then turned back to her post.

  Both Victor and I lay panting, our breathing in perfect rhythm with each other.

  “Damn,” he said, kissing me.

  Scarlett had a blow horn and was alerting us to incoming intruders. Mrs. Lombardi was heading into the dining room with dessert. Scarlett was drooling as she got closer. Jesus H she has a wicked sweet tooth! As Mrs. Lombardi passed her she swiped a piece of cake off the platter.

  Victor shouted to Mrs. Lombardi that we were fine and didn’t want dessert. Scarlett ran over to Victor and planted a big ole wet kiss smack on his lips. That meant she got all the cake. She clicked her heels together as she hightailed it to the kitchen. I shook my head and giggled.

  “Phew, that was a close one.”

  Victor smiled. “Ah yeah, but added to the excitement knowing at any second we could get caught.”

  “You always seem to surprise me, Mr. Salvatore.” I winked trying to locate my panties that were across the room lying in a heap on top of some expensive planter in the corner. I glanced at Victor as he pulled his jeans over that spectacular ass. His olive skin looked flawless in the candlelight. I was mesmerized by how good looking he was. I licked my lips in tribute to Scarlett, she’d be proud at my gawking and drooling, though she’d pinch his ass.

  Victor left me in the hallway. He had some work to do and calls to make to his West Coast clients. I debated going home to the cottage and hang with Nicole, but she spent every second she could with Hawke. Beside the fact Victor wanted me to stay with him most of the time. I went to find Scar, worried she was curled up in a corner in a sugar coma, but it was worse than that. She was hang gliding off the balcony into the swimming pool. Screaming ‘Yee haw’ when she hit the water. I’m so grateful Victor didn’t have any neighbors. I reminded myself again that sugar and Scarlett can be a lethal combination.

  Chapter 6

  My thoughts were consumed with crafting the right words I wanted to say to Nelson. I didn’t want my old position back, but needed it, as leverage with the Feds. They wanted that file and the secrets it held. Maybe if they were consumed with chasing down the contents of the file then it would divert them from Victor. I adjusted the hem of my short black skirt. I opted for just shy of hoochie mama this morning to put Nelson’s salivary glands in hyper drive and to get his attention. I would have to grovel, but hopefully not too much.

  Scarlett gave me the nod of approval and pushed the neck line of my shirt down even lower, and spritzed some perfume behind each ear lobe.

  A flash of black in the rear view mirror got my attention. A black SUV was approaching fast. I pushed the gas pedal of my Honda and she bucked in protest. I patted the wheel and whispered under my breath, “Come on, I need you!”

  Before I even gained MPH, the black SUV was on my bumper. Scarlett kept looking over her shoulder and at the speedometer. She hopped in my lap and pounded the accelerator, it was close to 70 mph and the speed limit was 55. The SUV pulled out in the passing lane and hovered next to me. The window was completely blacked out, so catching a glimpse of this asshole was not an option. The SUV swerved into the Honda and clipped the front end, causing me to lose control.

  As I came to, I realized I must have spun into the ditch and landed on the roof. I was suspended upside down held in place by my seat belt. My mind flashed to the night my parents died and I was dangling helpless, waiting for someone to find me.

  Scarlett was ok, just a gash on her forehead and mad as hell. My eyes scanned the car for my cell phone. It was in my purse which had been propelled into the back seat. I fumbled with my seat belt and couldn’t reach it. Scarlett was frantically trying to unbuckle me. My neck ached and my left leg throbbed, but other than that I was ok. But the Honda was totaled. I got a lump in my throat. I knew my old friend who had been through so much with me was gone. I stroked the side of the door and mourned her loss. Scarlett on the other hand had given up on the seat belt and was jotting down her top picks for the Honda’s replacement. I sighed; annoyed that she was on Victor’s side sometimes. He would be thrilled that I had to buy a new car.

  I heard voices yelling and the car was surrounded. I held my breath. Not knowing if help had arrived or if whoever had run me off the road was back to see if I was ok or they need to finish me off. My gut told me this was not a case of road rage. This was intentional and I was the target. The door to the Honda creaked and groaned as it opened.

  “Are you ok?”

  “I think so. But I’m trapped.”

  The cherub faced fire fighter sliced my seat belt with a knife and pulled me out. I was swarmed by EMT’s and cops. I looked for Scarlett and she was sitting in the driver’s seat of the patrol car. I winced when the EMT pressed on my leg, and feared that she’d turn the sirens on full blast.

  “My boyfriend, can you call him?” I asked the EMT. “His name is Victor, the number is in my cell phone.”

  He nodded, walked over to the Honda, and spoke to two state troopers inspecting my car. I closed my eyes when I saw how mangled my Honda was. I felt like I was going to puke. Scar was nowhere to be found and then I saw her on top of the fire truck modeling one of the fireman jackets like it was a fur from Saks. She was smiling as she looked in the side mirror when she put the fire helmet on with the number 16, her favorite number. I shook my head annoyed that she was amusing herself and I was lying on a stretcher. The EMT returned with my phone and told me that my boyfriend was en-route with an ETA of ten minutes.

  “She is going to the hospital for further evaluation,” the stocky EMT said, and the female EMT took my blood pressure again. They hoisted the stretcher up and lifted me into the ambulance.

  “What hospital?” one of the troopers asked.

  “Mercy.” I heard the stocky EMT reply as he shut the door to the ambulance.

  Scarlett darted through the door just before it shut. She was wearing one of those plastic firefighter pins they give to little kids. The other EMT was still taking my vitals and shined the light to check my pupils. Scarlett was rifling through the ambulance hoping to find something useful, you never know when you might need something like valium or morphine.

  “I’m fine,” I said. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “It’s protocol, when a vehicle has sustain
ed as much damaged as yours has. Could be internal injuries,” the EMT replied.

  “Okay.” I sighed.

  I closed my eyes and my thoughts drifted back to my last trip in the ambulance. I could smell the mixture of gas, smoke, mangled metal, and death. It was a smell that never leaves you. It had taken the firefighters thirty minutes to get me out of the van. I’d drifted in and out of consciousness. The yelling and frantic chaos of people running back and forth. The screaming of the two mothers of the teenage boys in the car that hit us. Both killed instantly. I’d seen the body of one of the boys lying on the pavement covered with a white sheet. The EMT had kept talking to me and telling me to hang on. My eyes would close and he would gently shake my arm. “Sweetheart, stay with us. Open your eyes.”

  I hadn’t wanted to open my eyes. I’d wanted to wake up and have it all be just a bad dream. It had never happened.

  I felt Scarlett dab the tears that were flowing down my cheeks as the ambulance door flew open. Before the stocky EMT even grabbed the bottom of the stretcher, I could hear Victor’s voice. He rushed to my side, and the EMT shot him an annoyed look.

  “Are you ok?” he said grabbing my hand.

  “I’ll be fine. Just some scrapes and bruises.”

  Victor looked at the EMT’s for validation that I was going to be okay.

  “We transported her in for evaluation,” the stocky EMT who was in charge replied.

  We pulled into the ER bay and the two EMT’s unloaded me from the ambulance, pushing Victor out of way as they wheeled me into the ER. A nurse blocked Victor. He wasn’t going any further.

  I heard him curse at her, “Son of a Bitch.”

  Scarlett stayed with Victor. She hated hospitals as much as I did. The next few hours were a series of x-rays, cat scans and MRI’s. The doctor determined that I had suffered a severe bruise to my leg and some cuts on my arm and head. I would be fine in a few days. I needed rest, but could go home.

  Victor helped me into the Escalade like he had when we first met. One hand on my arm the other on my ass as I climbed in the back. I snuggled next to him, his arm resting on my hip.

 

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