Secrets: Web of Sin

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Secrets: Web of Sin Page 17

by Aleatha Romig


  “Next you’re going to tell me to put it on speaker.”

  He nodded.

  “Fuck you.” Securing the grip on my phone, I walked to one of the large sofas, one facing the windows, and turned my back on my new telephone monitor. As I hit Call, I lifted the phone to my ear. There was no way I was putting it on speaker. I also wondered if it mattered. Sterling had told me a week ago that all my devices were monitored. Most likely, not only was he hearing what I said, but Patrick or someone in his network was hearing both sides.

  Though Sterling had the decency to stay out of my view, that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel his presence in every nerve in my body. Each nerve and each small hair were like tiny lightning rods, buzzing with the energy Sterling Sparrow emanated.

  Louisa answered on the first ring. “Kenni, thank God.”

  The sound of that name brought a smile to my lips.

  It wasn’t until she asked where I was that I turned toward Sterling. I wanted to trust my best friend—I did. However, if Patrick could monitor my phone so could the people who set my apartment on fire. “Where am I?” I said aloud, repeating her question.

  “Canada,” Sterling said softly from across the room. “Nothing specific.”

  Was this safe to not tell her? I remembered the note I’d hidden in my freezer. If the apartment was gone, that included the refrigerator and the note. What if Sterling was the person I needed to fear? What if his people had started the fire?

  I didn’t want to believe that.

  “Canada,” I said with as much excitement as I could muster.

  “I-I’m shocked,” Louisa replied.

  “It’s absolutely beautiful. The perfect spot to unwind a bit before things get crazy in Chicago.”

  “Jeez, Kenni. I thought you’d be more upset about the apartment. And this trip...it’s not like you.”

  “I am upset,” I retorted. “I can’t believe what happened. At least Mrs. Powell is safe.”

  “I don’t know how you know that, but nevertheless, two people are dead.”

  Her words were a punch to my gut. I’d been so relieved that it wasn’t Jeanne that I hadn’t given the proper attention to the fact that people were dead, most likely because of me. “Have they released the names?”

  “No, but from the looks of your building, I’d venture to guess it was the people who lived across the hall from you. The top level is totally gone. I can’t imagine if you were home...

  “Oh, a man from your insurance company called the office. Winnie took the message. She told him you were out of town but would contact them as soon as you could.”

  “Wow, that was fast.” I tried to remember the couple living across the hall, thinking how sad it was that people went on with their lives without reaching out to those around them. “I never talked to those neighbors, really. I saw her a few times in the hallway. We usually just nodded.”

  “Franco called,” Louisa said, changing the subject. “I know you can’t get there until you get back from Ca-n-a-da.” She elongated the word. “But I told him you were going to be spending more time in Chicago and you’d stop by. He said inventory is balancing now, but there is a new concern regarding a driver. There was something about a blip on the security tape.”

  “A blip? What do you mean?” I didn’t like the way that sounded.

  “A time stamp issue. When I told him you’d come see him, he said he’d explain it to you.”

  “Okay.” I changed my tone. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fat and awkward,” she said with a laugh. “I’m ready to hold little Kennedy in my arms and not inside my body. I swear, if my skin stretches any more, it’s going to pop.”

  Hearing her joke and talk about the baby filled me with both joy and concern. “You’re radiant.”

  “That’s what people say. I’m convinced it’s code for you look like a blimp.”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Give Jason my love. If I don’t answer when you call or text, it’s probably the reception here. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” I turned back to Sterling for the last part.

  After we disconnected the call, I called my apartment complex, explaining as Sterling had advised that I was out of town and devastated by the loss.

  “Ms. Hawkins,” the lady from the apartment’s office said, “there was an insurance adjuster here first thing this morning asking for a detailed log of everything in your apartment. I told him to send you an email.”

  “My insurance company or the complex’s?” I asked, remembering what Louisa had said.

  “Not ours, so I assumed yours. He asked for your email address and the best way to reach you.”

  My pulse increased as I stood and walked closer to Sterling.

  Hitting the speaker button, I said, “Can you please repeat that?”

  “The insurance guy asked how he could reach you.” Her voice dropped a decibel. “I thought it seemed strange that your insurance company wouldn’t have your contact information. I should have taken his picture. He was blond. I remember that.”

  “And you’re sure it wasn’t someone from your insurance company?”

  “I’m positive. I didn’t give him your number or email. I said I’d relay the message.”

  “Did he leave a number?” Sterling asked, too softly to be overheard.

  I repeated his question. As she replied, Sterling typed the number into a text message. “Thank you,” I replied. “Contact me if you need to. I may not answer right away...” I wouldn’t. “...but you can leave me a message.”

  Upon disconnecting the second call, Sterling extended his hand. I thought about my emails and other places I could access from my phone and just as quickly decided it wasn’t worth the argument. As I gave him back my phone, I said, “You really do need to work on that asshole thing. I repeat, it’s not a virtue.” Before he could respond, I asked, “You don’t think that insurance guy is connected to this mess you were talking about, do you?”

  “We’re going to find out.”

  “Louisa said someone called the office too. Winnie told him I was out of town.”

  Sterling shook his head.

  “Now that I have his number, I could call him?” It was meant as a statement but came out more like asking permission.

  “Not now and sure as fuck, not from your phone.” He tilted his head toward the windows. “It’s beautiful out there and unlike the summer heat in Chicago, it’s in the low sixties. That’s why I built this cabin up here. Those plans we have... we’re going down to the lake.”

  “Down. How far down and what about up? Wait? Rita said something about bears.”

  Sterling had begun to walk down the hallway toward his office, yet he turned back with a grin. “Only black bears, the grizzlies are mostly farther north. And as long as we don’t get between a mother and her cubs, we’ll be fine.”

  “But what if we end up between a mother and her cubs?”

  Sterling shook his head. “Araneae, I wish you’d get your priorities straight. Someone set your apartment on fire. An unknown man is trying to reach you, the plane you were supposed to be on crashed, and you’re worried about bears.” He turned away. “As for all of it, as I said, you belong to me. I protect what’s mine.”

  I watched his fading outline, wide shoulders, and long legs as he disappeared into the dimly lit hallway. Once he was gone, my knees gave out, landing me back on the soft leather sofa. I wasn’t prepared to again fight his declared proprietorship. My mind was on something else he’d said.

  A plane crashed?

  A plane crashed—were there casualties? Two people were dead from the fire, and who was the man trying to reach me?

  Somehow bears didn’t seem as important.

  Araneae

  My ears buzzed with the silence of the cabin and the aftershock of the bomb Sterling had just dropped. Finding my way to my feet, step after step, I followed the path Sterling had just taken until I was standing outside a mostly-closed door to
his office. Rita had pointed out the room last night. Even if she hadn’t, I would have known its purpose from the fury of voices coming from within.

  I recognized Sterling’s and Patrick’s. It was the third voice I didn’t know.

  “The number goes to a burner phone,” the unknown voice said.

  “Find out where it was purchased. See if there’s a money trail.”

  “Boss, it was purchased with cash in Schaumburg. That’s where the trail ends. I’m looking into security cameras. Once I find him, I’ll do face recognition.”

  There was a beat of silence before Sterling replied. “So this man in Boulder has a phone from outside Chicago. What a fucking coincidence.”

  “There’s something else,” the unknown voice said.

  “Wait,” Sterling said, “The lady from the apartment complex said he was blond.”

  “Shit,” Patrick said. “I know that’s not much of a description, but Andrew Walsh has gone MIA since Kansas.”

  I knew that name. How did I know it? I took another step toward the door.

  “Sparrow,” the unknown voice said, “you should know, the pilot of the 737 died last night.”

  I sucked in a deep breath as Sterling yelled, “Died or was killed?”

  “Freak accident. He’s from New York. He’d just gotten back to Manhattan when he slipped from the platform in the subway. The train was moving fast...”

  I groaned as my stomach lurched at the image playing in my head. The Sinful Thread New York market was mine. I rode the subways there. I’d been on those platforms. They were usually filthy dirty, and I’d seen my share of rats, but they weren’t slippery.

  “What have you learned about his financials?” Patrick’s voice asked as the door was abruptly opened inward, and I was met by Sterling’s dark expression.

  “Get out,” Sterling barked to Patrick. “The call is done for now.”

  Neither Patrick nor the other person on the speaker phone responded.

  My heart beat wildly as I watched Patrick close the laptop that had been in front of him on a long table filled with papers. Lifting the computer, he stood to leave. Though he didn’t speak, his blue eyes flashed my direction screaming what I already knew. I was in trouble.

  I took a step back as Sterling reached for my arm, changing my direction and pulling me inside the room.

  The silence grew as Sterling closed the door and spun my direction. The man from earlier at the banister and even the asshole with my phone was gone. Rage seeped from his every pore as his jaw clenched. If I knew him better I might assume he was weighing his words or perhaps his future actions. Contemplation was in his expression, and the sensible part of me feared what he would decide.

  “Don’t be upset with me,” I said, breaking the silence. “You’re the one keeping information from me. You’re the one who dropped the bomb out there...” I pointed toward the door. “...about a plane crash.”

  “I tried to tell you last night, and you said you didn’t want to know.”

  “That a plane crashed! In the future, if it’s something that big, tell me. Besides, you can’t just say something like that and not expect there to be—”

  His lips crashed with mine as simultaneously his fingers reached for my ponytail and entwined in my long hair. His kiss sizzled and bruised my lips. He was stealing not only my words but also my breath. Gasping, I moaned as a strong arm pulled me against him, smashing my breasts against his wide chest and uniting our hips. There was no mercy or tenderness as his tongue filled my taste buds with coffee and mint.

  He was a starving man and I was his meal.

  This was more than lust. It was a power struggle, and I’d be damned if I would back down. My hands moved up to his chest, my fingers fisting his shirt, as I lifted myself up on my toes and my tongue continued the battle of wills.

  Beneath my grasp, his heart beat in time with mine, fast and furious. Moving from my waist, his large hand found its way under my sweater, his fingers splaying on the skin of my back as heat radiated from his touch and the tugging of my hair intensified. Every nerve in my body was on fire. Like gasoline to a flame, from my rock-hard nipples to my now-drenched core, I was ablaze.

  Abruptly, he released me, turning to the table where Patrick had been seated and sweeping the papers off the edge, the neat piles now fluttering haphazardly to the floor. Before I could comment or even form words, Sterling reached for my waist and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, placing me at the table’s edge. With another tug of my hair he brought my eyes to his.

  “I’m either going to fuck you or spank your ass for eavesdropping. Either way, those jeans are coming off.”

  “I-I...” My tongue grew thick as he reached for my boots, yanking the small zippers at my ankle and dropping each one to the floor, followed by my socks. “Sterling...” With the exactitude of an aficionado, he undid the button of my jeans and lowered the zipper.

  I was too twisted and tied up with emotions to argue as I lifted my ass from the table’s surface, allowing my jeans to be pulled down my legs. As my white lace panties came into view, a long, deep hiss filled the air.

  His stare seemed to go on forever as I willingly lifted my arms, and with one quick motion he added my sweater to the papers and clothes on the floor.

  “Which is it going to be?” he asked, eyeing me up and down, taking in my attire or lack thereof.

  Good girls get to come. I recalled his declaration from the plane.

  I lifted my chin and with all the dignity I could muster, I asked the question I never imagined uttering—to anyone. “Are you going to let me come?”

  He didn’t answer. Pushing my legs farther apart, he stepped between my knees, his hand going to the crotch of my panties. “You’re fucking soaked.”

  Instinctively my thighs tried to close, yet his body wouldn’t allow it. “Sterling.”

  “One more second and I’m making the decision for you, and the result will be a fire-red ass and my cock buried deep inside your dripping pussy.”

  I shouldn’t like the way he was speaking to me. My mind knew that, but again I wasn’t listening to my mind. No. All I could hear was the deep tenor that even without his dark stare or the way his fingers rubbed over the crotch of my panties had my nipples rock-hard and me on the verge of a spontaneous orgasm.

  “Fuck me.” The words were barely out of my mouth when his large hand came to my chest, his fingers splayed, and he pushed me back until my spine was flat against the cool, hard table. The rip of lace and sound of his zipper were barely heard over the pounding of my heart. I tried to sit upward to see the cock I’d watched explode a day before, but each of my movements came up against the pressure from his hand. The ceiling above glistened as sunlight danced over the knotty pine when all at once it happened.

  I screamed out as he filled me completely with one thrust. Like his kiss from before, there was no warning shot, no preparation. Not that it mattered. I was so wet his length and girth met little resistance as he stretched me to where pain and pleasure intersected.

  “So fucking tight.”

  Clawing at the shiny wood, I found the edge of the table. My fingers curled, trying to hold on as he pounded, hard and fast. Sterling was a man consumed. Each thrust filled me as never before as the pressure within me began to build.

  The second his hand left my chest, I sprang upward, no longer satisfied with this being a one-man show, and reached for the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it upward. It too joined our growing pile of clothes. My hands roamed his tight abs as his continued motion rubbed over my bundle of nerves, relieving the building ache in my clit and sending shock waves in every direction.

  I couldn’t repeat anything I said. Though my own voice was recognizable, the sounds were not. I wasn’t alone. We were a chorus of words and primitive noises, like none I’d ever heard.

  My nails dug at his broad shoulders as I leaned forward. No longer supported by the table, it was Sterling’s grasp of my ass that kept me from falling. The n
ew position was everything as my toes curled. My lips covered the tight cord of his neck as I tried to stifle my scream.

  I didn’t succeed.

  Every nerve within me detonated as my entire body convulsed. From my toes to my scalp, I was a mass of explosions. The sensation flooded my circulation like nothing I’d ever experienced. My fingers blanched as I held tightly to his shoulders, the muscles within me contracting, and stars appearing behind my now-closed eyes.

  Secure in his grasp, I floated, falling from the highest high when my pants, whimpers, and gasps for breath were lost to the deep roar coming from Sterling. I opened my eyes in time to watch his beautiful expression as his cock buried deep within me throbbed. It was better than watching him pleasure himself, as for a moment he basked in the sheer bliss of our union.

  I couldn’t register what we’d done until he set me again on the table’s edge and eased out. As I gazed down at his glorious cock, shiny from our connection, it hit me.

  “You didn’t use a condom?”

  “And I won’t.”

  “What?”

  “We’re both clean and you have the birth control insert. I’ve never had skin-to-skin sex with anyone else.”

  How could I believe him?

  “But...” I could have asked how he knew my medical status, but the question would be pointless. Sterling Sparrow knew everything.

  “Araneae, you’re mine in every way.” He ran his finger over my core and brought the glistening digit to his lips and sucked. “I plan to take you in every way. The sooner you get used to that idea, the easier it will be to accept what’s happening.”

  Jumping from the edge of the table, muscles I didn’t know existed announced their presence. Nevertheless, I refused to show Sterling the effect he had on me.

  Okay, I supposed I showed him when I screamed out his name or was coming hard on his cock. That didn’t matter. Now was different.

  Lifting my sweater, I turned and met his stare. Wearing only my bra, I lifted my chin. “This changes nothing. I will repeat it until you get it straight. I belong to no one. I decide what I do and when. Yes, I chose sex, but only because you looked...angry and I didn’t trust you with my ass.”

 

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