by Max Henry
She could only come to the same conclusion each time—somebody had to watch him. And when she was new to the game that only left one option. It’s not as though she had any other contact she could call on to do the job.
The crack of the front door as it eased open broke her thoughts. Steph reached around Trevor, and grabbed the remote to turn the TV off. “Sshh.” She held a finger to her mouth, and nodded toward the sleeping giant.
Pete placed his keys on the counter slowly to avoid making noise, and nodded. He smiled at the sight, and edged around the sofa to offer his hand. She took it, levering herself out of the seat slowly so as not to disturb Trevor.
“How long has he been out?” Pete whispered in her ear.
Her hands found their way to his chest, and she lost herself for a moment in the comfort that was his proximity. “About half an hour.”
“He’ll find his way to bed when he’s ready. I’ll get him a blanket.”
Steph nodded, and led the way through to Pete’s bedroom. He paused in the hall to fetch a black throw from the cupboard, and disappeared to see to Trevor. She moved to the bed, and perched on the end of it. A few hours had made a hell of a difference to her state of mind. When he’d left after dinner, her headspace had been firmly set in the what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-here mode. But after the time to relax, she’d seen the truth—she was still happy.
“What ya thinking about?” Pete shirked his shirt, and tossed it on the floor.
Still such a bachelor. “How strange it is to feel so happy, so content when there’s so much bad news.”
“Ah, don’t worry ya pretty head. Me ma will be dealt to.”
She nodded, acutely aware how close she’d been already to blabbing. “How was your night?”
“Long.” He stalked toward where she sat, and leant down with his hands braced either side of her hips. “Better now I’m home.”
“I’m tired.” She staged a yawn. “I think I might go straight to sleep.”
“I’d like to see ya fuckin’ try,” he growled.
She erupted in giggles, stifling a squeal as he scooped her up, and threw her further back on the bed.
“Have you got any idea, Love, how much torture it was to be thinkin’ of you all night, back here, with another man?”
“Gee, you really trust me, huh?”
“This trusts you—” He tapped his head. “—but this guy,” he said tapping his taut jeans. “Is a jealous little bastard.”
“You always listen to your dick?” she challenged.
“When it’s remindin’ me what a fuckin’ beautiful woman I have waiting to be tasted, fucked, and pleasured at home … then yeah, I do.”
“Sounds like quite a list you’ve got there. What are you waiting for?”
He chuckled, low and promising. “For you to get ya clothes off.”
Steph’s hips bounced on the mattress as she shredded her skirt. The top she wore went next, followed in quick succession by flying underwear. His room looked like an artists canvas; bright splashes of colour where her clothes had found their home.
He stood at the foot of the bed, and had watched with keen interest as she writhed like a fish out of water in her haste. His lip ring popped from between his teeth over, and over. She’d come to recognise it as a method of distraction. For her or him though, she hadn’t decided. He crossed a hand to the opposite elbow, and propped it in the crook of his arm as he brought the free hand up to rest a finger on his bottom lip. “Where do I start?” he asked, tapping his finger against his luscious lips.
“By doing the same.” She smirked.
He chuckled, and undid his belt to let the jeans fall to the floor. Commando again. Damn.
He gave a wicked grin at her clear admiration, and stepped from the denim. A gentle finger teased the tips of her toes. “Should I start here?” She watched in giddy anticipation as he prowled over her until their noses all but touched. “Or here?” His mouth took hers in a slow, and savoury kiss. Each stroke of his tongue, each sweep of his lips made with such satisfaction. She felt like an ice cream to a child; too good to have all at once, but too good to be spared.
“Baby,” she uttered, tipping her chin upward to avoid his tempting assault.
“Love?”
“I don’t want to play games tonight.”
He pushed back, and held himself over her. “No?”
She shook her head. “I want to enjoy being here with you. That’s all.”
He drew a lop-sided grin. “Cutie, I’ll always be here.”
“I know,” she smiled, and reached out to wrap her arms around his neck. Steph applied a little pressure, and tugged him down until he buried his face in the dip of her shoulder. His breaths warmed her collarbone, and she wrapped her arms tighter around him.
Keeping such a secret from Pete played torture on her. He didn’t get why she was so sentimental, because to him, everything was okay. In his mind he’d sort his mother out, and their lives would be theirs to have together--uninhibited. But when she looked into those piercing blue eyes of his, it ripped her heart to shreds to think of the sentence that hung over his head. How many more days with him would she get? How long did they have until the most confusing, but important part of her life got taken from her as quickly as it arrived?
“Love, why are ya cryin’?”
She cursed the tear that had snuck from her eye, and run over her cheek to land on his hand. “Happy tears, Baby.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. “If you say so.” He clearly didn’t believe her, but thankfully he didn’t sully the moment by talking further about her misplaced tears.
Pete’s hips slowly rocked into her, making her aware of the arousal that lay thick between them. Her fingers threaded into his hair, her desperation to feel every inch of him dire. Steph brought her legs over his, and used her shins to coax him harder toward her. He laid gentle kisses along her collarbone as he thrust, prying gentle moans from her. Steph’s hands remained fixed in his hair while he dropped kisses down her body, stopping at each peaked nipple for a nip as he passed by.
Her arms stretched to full extension over her stomach to maintain her hold of him as Pete nudged her legs apart with his shoulders. He hummed like a man appreciating a fine car before he dove down and laid a single, wide sweep of his tongue over the length of her folds. She groaned, and squeezed her thighs against the sides of his head—her muscles twitched with the buzz that danced across her nerve-ends. He made a show of licking his lips—groaning at the taste—while he crawled up her body once again. Steph used her handle in his hair to draw him to her, and their mouths locked with a deep seated need to be inside one another. She swept her tongue over the tip of his—the taste of herself in his mouth insanely erotic. The reverberation of his respondent groan sent a shiver through her body, which finished with his single thrust inside of her starved centre. He lay full, and thick deep within her walls—simply filling every part of her with nothing but pure intimacy.
“Stay there,” she pleaded. “Don’t move yet.”
Pete kissed the length of her jaw, and she tasted herself again as his mouth brushed over her parted lips. “I’d stay right here every minute of the day if it were possible, Love. This right here, us so close, is my perfect escape.”
She pressed her forehead to his, clasping his face in her hands. “I love you, Pete.”
“I’ve only ever loved one girl, Steph. And I’m lookin’ right at her.”
She captured him with a fervent kiss as her mind ran over his words. He’d only ever loved her. He hadn’t experienced love before, either. She’d thought before they met that she knew love, but with the emotions he could draw from her with a single look alone, it was a no-brainer to work out she had been grossly misinformed of what exactly love was.
This was love. Not being able to enjoy another meal on your own was love. Not knowing what you’d do with your time if it were yours to have alone was love. The desire to spend endless hours with each other lost in a wo
rld built out of pillows, and bedding, was love.
He drew a gentle tempo, letting her feel every change in pressure as he withdrew, and pushed inside once more. Her hips found a beat of their own, matching his pace, deepening the connection. Everything in that moment depicted her idea of perfection. The gentle tug of his fingers winding in her hair drew her further into the moment that was simply the two of them, together, entwined. She came close to forgetting there was anyone else in the house until Pete clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the moans she made.
His thrusts became harder, more frequent. She grasped at his back, his shoulders, his butt to urge him to do more, to push harder, to hit her hard enough to make their bodies one. The rhythmic slapping of their skin echoed about the room, and a singular groan shattered the relative quiet of the house as his hand slipped from her mouth.
Steph lost herself in the rise and fall of her orgasm, relishing the feel of her body lose control beneath such a beautifully tragic man. Pete ran his fingers over the side of her face as she twisted her mouth into a silent scream. His fingertips dipped past her lips, over her jaw, and down to her chest where he rolled her nipple while she fought the urge to cry out.
His pace grew frantic, and uneven as he reached his release. He clenched his jaw, screwing his eyes tight, and she felt him pulse deep within her. Every muscle in his torso contracted, and with a final shudder he fell in a spent heap on top of her. Murmured words were lost into her shoulder, and his fists in her hair bordered on painful. Steph stroked the back of his neck, and pressed kisses to his shoulder as it shook.
“Are you okay?” She was a little afraid to know, but she could swear the damp feeling on her neck was more than perspiration.
He gripped tighter around her, and knotted his legs around hers. His chest rose with a staggered breath, before the moisture on her skin chilled with his exhale. He slid off the top, and settled beside her. A hand stayed under her head, while the other moved to settle on the base of her throat. She turned her head to the side, and laid a kiss on the top of his head.
This man was hers.
Forever.
And she was about to show him with the ultimate gesture.
Pistol sat in the viewing lounge with Trevor, staring at the huge Emirates plane as it taxied around the runway. They’d headed straight over after dropping Cutie at work, fresh on a lead that his ma may have been leaving that morning. A few sweeps of Trevor’s lashes later, and a willing young attendant at check-in had confirmed she had been booked on a red-eye.
They’d missed her by less than an hour.
Baggage handlers moved about under the bird like a swarm of ants, the little cart pulling the trailers appearing as useless as a child’s toy from such a distance. He tapped his lighter on a knee, itching to get outside for a smoke. But bloody Trevor had brought himself a thick shake, and the man could not be moved until it was finished.
“Ya almost done?”
“Look, I know you missed your opportunity, but it doesn’t mean you need to get all septic with me, Son.”
“I know.” He huffed, and shook his head. “What’s the likelihood I’d get another chance, though? I should have finished her off proper at the motel.”
“Logistics. I’m sure if you want it that bad you’ll find a way.”
“I’m not leaving Steph on her own.”
Trevor slurped the last of his drink. “Even if there’s no threat to her?”
“Even if.”
He’d be fucking naive to think there wasn’t. A fairy-tale wouldn’t end as easily as this. Of course there’d be more trouble. Of course he’d see further ghosts from his past. People like Murray didn’t drop something after one failed attempt. They hammered at the nail until it was buried one way or the other.
Pistol glanced at Trevor as he walked back from a trashcan. At last. “When are you leaving our grace?”
“Trying to get rid of me already?”
He shrugged his head to a shoulder. “Never was one for polygamy.”
Trevor snorted. “I’m sure Steph would love that idea.” He stared out at the baggage handlers. “I fly out tomorrow.”
“Ah, I’ll be sorry to see ya go.”
“It has been good to catch up.” Trevor nodded. “Oh, and just so you know, I told Steph about the cage-fighting.”
“You two had a right heart-to-heart while I worked me ass off last night, huh?”
The man’s black hair fell about his face as he shook his head. “Someone’s gotta keep the girl occupied. Her, and her bloody thoughts are going to be your biggest problem, Son.”
“Tell me about it.”
Such a short time, and even Trevor could see Steph’s propensity to overthink. Reason number one why he was more comfortable keeping her in the dark about some things.
“What’ll ya do when you get back?”
Trevor shrugged. “Take another job. I’ve been thinking about moving, keep my ass out of the limelight while they get over the fact I didn’t come through with the goods on you.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done here, brother.”
“I know. But don’t expect me to be here to save your ass every time.”
He snorted. “Ya hardly saved my ass. There wasn’t even a sniff of trouble while you were here.”
“I saved your ass by not putting a bullet in here—” he tapped in the centre of Pistol’s forehead, “—when I first saw you putting out the trash at the bar.”
“Pervert.”
“Hardly my fault you’re so pretty to watch.”
He joined in laughing, a little saddened that he’d lose a friend he’d missed all these years. Trevor had picked up where the two of them left off all that time ago. True friends were able to do that—leave for over a decade, and turn up on your door like they’d simply popped out to get more beers.
“I’m sure you’d turn up if ya sniffed another one of Steph’s steaks, anyway.”
He chuckled. “She’s a mean cook, that woman.”
“I still can’t believe I found her.” He stared out the window at the baggage cart as it zoomed back under the terminal.
The two of them had come so far together in a few short weeks, but his greatest fear was of the trials they’d yet to face together. His mother was only a part of his history, and given time, Steph would learn it all. He felt the familiar pang of worry he’d had that first week they knew each other; would she be able to stick around for the long haul? He still couldn’t blame her if she chose to go, but after the moment they shared last night, he had an inkling she wouldn’t find it as easy to cut her losses.
As much as he should worry for her, he couldn’t help but be a little happier knowing that.
***
Steph stepped out into the gloomy afternoon to find the rod waiting for her as predicted. She crossed the car park, her stomach in her throat as she approached the vehicle. Pete stayed seated inside which made her nerves climb up several notches further. He always waited outside the car for her. Why not today?
She reached out, and lifted the handle while she drew a final lungful of courage. The plan was in motion, and if she backed out now, she’d have explaining to do. “Afternoon.” She smiled.
“How was your day?”
“Same old, same old. Oh, except I’ve been signed up for an assignment.”
“Yeah?” He started the engine, and kept his gaze trained out the windscreen as he drove.
“Barbara said there’s a big client who wants an audit done on-site. Apparently they’re stretched since the team Cass is on has taken most of the regulars.”
“So, you wouldn’t be doin’ it at the office?”
“No. I’m sorry, Babe.” On the outside, she was all cool, calm, and blasé about the news. But inside, her blood raced through her veins at break-neck speed as her heart hammered like a thing possessed. Can he tell you’re lying? She sure hoped not. If he did, it was impossible to pick. “How about you?” Hopefully deflecting the conversation to him would
hide the urge she had to blab the whole cover story at once to get it off her chest.
“Complete, and utter shite.”
“Why’s that?”
He huffed an exasperated breath, and idly rubbed his temple while they waited at a red light. “Me ma flew out early this morning.”
“Damn.”
“Aye, damn.”
“What now?” Her voice croaked out as the walls of her throat constricted.
“If I want to finish what I started, I have to go back to Ireland.” He slotted through the gears as they took off.
Shit, shit, shit. “Would you?”
Another sigh. “I don’t think so, Love. I couldn’t risk leaving ya on your own.” His hand found a suitable resting place on her knee as they cruised in silence.
“Do you think we’re still in danger?” Props for playing it dumb, Steph.
His eyes flitted to her, before he resumed the intense stare he held on the road. “We’ll always be in danger.”
He wasn’t stupid. Did she think after so many years in the game he wouldn’t be attuned to how things ran? These are his people, not yours. And she’d blindly made her plan forgetting the most crucial thing—it wouldn’t take him long to figure her out, no matter how quiet she kept about the plan.
“I guess Trevor knows then?”
He nodded. “He leaves tomorrow.”
“Already? That sucks.” And the Emmy Award goes to …
“You sound like you’ve developed a sweet spot for him, Love.” His hand squeezed her leg gently in two quick pulses. She relaxed a little. He was mocking her—not angry.
“Like I said, he’s simply a big kid. But that’s not why I was gutted.”
“Why then?” He glanced across the car as they stalled in the peak traffic.
“Because I have to go away on my assignment tomorrow, too. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
