Family & Fortune (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Book 5)

by Tracy Ellen

  “Go on,” he turned his head to lick my taut nipple before he glanced back up to ask softly, “not when I touch you like that, you mean?”

  “Ah, no. I mean, yes.”

  He palmed both my breasts in his large hands and kneaded gently. “Now what else were you going to tell me you were thinking?”

  “I don’t regret going with you or knowing your…business.” My voice hitched up when Luke guided one breast into his warm, wet mouth. The euphoric pleasure from his massaging hands and swirling tongue hit me everywhere at once. I moaned and my head fell back while balancing high on one elbow rather than melting back onto the pillows behind me. The intense sensations were exquisitely accentuated in this position, raised on my side over Luke’s face. As he took turns from one breast to the other, lightning bolts raced over nerve endings to strike directly between my legs, over and over, in sequence to the rhythmic, hard suction of his lips pulling on my nipples.

  Maybe it was me swearing I was dying, but I still couldn’t believe it when Luke took me so seriously and stopped the sweetest torment ever invented. You can bet I was voraciously complaining when he pushed me back onto the pillows, relentlessly sliding the silk covers off us completely as he did. He lightly kissed my breasts, but then moved his way slowly up my neck.

  He followed me back onto the bed to cover me with his body. I tightly embraced my personal electric blanket of hot, smooth skin over flexed muscles and wrapped my body around him. In between driving me crazy with leisurely licks of his tongue and soft kisses, Torquemada’s voice was silkier than my duvet cover when he gazed into my eyes and described in loving detail the way he was going to fuck me.

  Being a bookstore owner and avid reader, I love a good story probably more than the next girl. It took tremendous willpower not to take his tale in hand and lead it straight down the garden path to Eden while I stuck my apples in his mouth, but I controlled the lust raging through my blood. Somehow, I managed to keep my feverish hands above Luke’s waist long enough to grip him by the shoulders because I had to get something off my chest.

  “Luke, is there something wrong with me that I feel like we should try to save that blasted Ogelbachen moron from death by Mr. V.G.?”

  “Aside from your timing?” On raised elbows, he grinned down at me with blazing eyes and stroked back the hair from my face. “Don’t worry, Batgirl. He lost his wife’s travel agency for gambling again, but the dumb fuck actually won at poker last night. It didn’t take much persuasion before he agreed the smart thing was to put every dime of those winnings towards his debt with Mr. V.G.”

  “Holy Hannah, you did all that? I can’t believe I slept through everything,” I murmured with a small, dismayed laugh, scoring my nails up and down his back before dropping my hands to grip his hard round ass and pull him tight to me.

  His tongue touched my ear. “I only left you sleeping in the truck for a few minutes, so that was nothing.” He bit my lobe. “What really amazed me was when you slept right through Jack Banner pulling us over on the way back to Northfield.”

  “What!” I exclaimed, grabbing his ears and pushing him back until I could see his face. “Does Jack Banner know my pants were off?”

  Luke didn’t answer immediately, but scrunched up his forehead in thought.

  Cursing, I reached for a loose bed pillow and bashed him over the head. With a shout of laughter, he ducked back down and buried his face in my neck. We rolled around on the squeaking bed.

  He laughed and warded off my pummeling until I heard a muffled, “You were all curled up in your seat with my jacket over you.”

  “Swear it,” I demanded, chest heaving and holding up the pillow in warning.

  When he lifted his head a few inches from my breasts, Luke’s green eyes were dancing. “I swear to God on a stack of holy bibles.”

  “Alrighty then,” I dropped the pillow, biting back my smile at the delight Luke seemed to derive from being forced to swear the Axelrod oath of truth, “no need to get fancy. You are so lucky. I was this close to smothering you. What the heck did Jack want anyway? Why did he pull you over?”

  “He was just being Jack. He wanted to know what I was doing out so late.”

  “My God, he’s nosy. Hasn’t he heard of cell phones, for crying out loud? What did you tell him?”

  “The truth.”

  “Oh, really?” I smirked skeptically, reclining against the pile of pillows.

  “Sure, I told him that I had to take you out for a drive to get you to sleep because you were so wound up after all the sugar from your birthday party.”

  I gurgled with laughter and hugged Luke close. “You are so gonna get it, Torquemada, just as soon as I have some energy again.”

  “Uh huh, but in the meantime,” Luke voice was a seductive rumble in my ear as he parted my thighs with his knee, “give me grateful kisses, Princess, and wrap your legs around me again while I do all the vigorous work.”

  Chapter V

  “Count On Me” by Bruno Mars

  Tuesday, 12/18

  8:25 AM

  On autopilot, I patted for the ringing cell phone on my bedside table.

  “Hello?” I croaked out.

  “HiLukesaidwecouldcomeoveratninethirtywithcoffeeanddonutssoyoucan’tsaynoseeyouthenbye.”

  “What the…?” I scowled at the dead phone in my hand, and tried to process Anna’s run on message. Dazed, I was not even sure if she had spoken English. After her sneaky success throwing my surprise party last night, I wouldn’t put it past my best friend to let it go to her head and try to punk me today.

  Her words penetrated the fog in my brain. Since when was Luke the voice of authority on who could come to my apartment and what time they could show up?

  ‘He probably told them an hour later.’ Snorting in derision, I flipped off the covers.

  I didn’t have to look around to know Luke was gone, the air in the apartment felt thinner without his bossy presence. Seeing the time on the clock, I swore and staggered out of bed, realizing that I must have passed out again after our morning mission debriefing.

  The heavy bedroom curtains gaped in the middle, allowing in long bars of cheerful winter sunshine. I threw the curtains open all the way and closed the window, locking it securely, even though it was a twenty foot sheer drop to the sidewalk below. Luke had mentioned something about interior lockable bars on all the apartment windows in the Fortress Anabel plans. Some women may not find it the most romantic birthday present, but oddly enough, I felt gooey inside anytime I thought of what extremes Luke was taking to guarantee my safety.

  Limping my way into the bathroom, I stepped directly under the hot shower without a glance towards the mirror. I could feel how bad I looked. My eyes were puffy, my lips--both sets--were swollen and tender, and my skin was blotchy all over from the scraping of Luke’s stubble. I needed to do some major damage control before Anna and the gang arrived or I’d never hear the end of their teasing, even if my walk of shame was in my own place with clean clothes on.

  It was customary on our birthdays to get together sometime during the day and exchange gifts. It was a private time for my siblings and closest friends, separate from any other birthday festivities that may or may not be going on.

  Technically, I had scheduled myself off at the bookstore today. Due to closing Bel’s yesterday because of Sunday night’s blizzard, I had told Anna of my change of plans to work in the afternoon. I had a feeling it was going to be even busier in the store today than the normal shopping craziness of a week before Christmas.

  Tiredly holding up arms that felt heavier than anvils, I lathered up with a Chai Vanilla shampoo that smelled like the spices of the holidays. While I scrubbed, I reconsidered my stance on bondage. Maybe being tied up spread eagle would not be such a bad thing. It might prevent my vigorous response to lovemaking to the point of needing electroshock therapy to come back to life afterwards.

  I sighed dejectedly as I rinsed.

  It wasn’t until after I had toweled
off and slathered myself from shoulders to toes in the soothing Whip Me chocolate body butter made by Stella that I noticed the square gift box and small card on the vanity.

  My smile grew as I eyed the pale blue box tied with the same royal blue ribbon as my Fortress Anabel present.

  Dragging out my anticipation, I went about the business of getting dressed in the bookstore uniform of jeans and a turquoise Bel’s Books T-shirt. The hot shower had greatly improved my ability to function, but I was keeping it comfy today with a pair of warm socks and faux fur-lined black clogs with only three inch heels.

  The envelope of the card matched the same pale blue color of the box. It had ANABEL scrawled across the front in the bold script I’d come to recognize as Luke’s.

  Giving the gift a little friendly nudge to gauge its resistance, I noted it was light as air. I then carefully applied some makeup, being a little heavy-handed with the concealer. Despite the tan, I still had traces of dark smudges under my eyes.

  At least the half-moon crescents underscored my lack of sleep due to an abundance of hot sex. It was a relief the dark circles were no longer from worrying over having children. I shuddered when I envisioned Luke on one knee and Sparky lighting up on my hand. Learning that sign from the ring was part of the Damaris family legend that foretold of having a large family if I married Luke was scarier than facing down the Hammer in my attic.

  In celebration of my narrow escape from a Greek tragedy waiting to happen, my relationship commitment with Luke to remain childless, and the first day in the last year of my twenties, the eyeliner today was a dramatic winged style using a turquoise kohl pencil and lots of black mascara.

  I quickly dried my hair and did an updo that fit my new long, layered cut. I teased and smoothed back the hair on the crown of my head, giving me some height on top. The rest of my hair was twisted up and secured in the back. My bangs were swept over and I pulled a few thick strands of hair to hang down, that I curled loosely, around my head.

  After a swipe of pink hibiscus lip gloss by Intelligent Nutrients, an early birthday present from Stella, my favorite silver hoop earrings and a few bangle bracelets, I was ready to open the card and gift from Luke.

  The envelope was not sealed, simply tucked inside.

  I’ll be thinking of you wearing this birthday present until I see you later. Love, Luke

  Closing my eyes, I held the card to my heart for a second.

  ‘Oooh, how romantic,’ the sex kitten voice purred.

  It was a girly girl moment honoring the first card received from Luke with the official mushy closing of love. Then I tore off the blue ribbon and popped off the box lid to see…

  Nothing.

  “What the duck?”

  ‘What the fuck?’ the sex kitten voice echoed.

  I tipped the box over, giving it a good smack on the bottom. A little rectangle of paper floated out, the size you’d get from an Asian fortune cookie. It fluttered to land face up on the vanity.

  I leaned over to read aloud, “Enjoy your birthday suit, Empress.”

  Once past the shock, I burst out laughing and kept chuckling all the way to my bedroom where I stashed the box and ribbon in my dressing table drawer.

  Tilting my head back, I was still laughing when I raised my arms, shook my fists, and implored the Universe, “Whoever is out there listening, whatever I did to deserve such a smart ass of a man--please don’t ever let me stop doing it!”

  Checking my phone, I had ten minutes before the invasion. Still smiling at my latest, if invisible gift, I went to make a cup of coffee.

  Humming, I walked through the apartment opening shutters and straightening up a bit, then stopped short at the sight of another identical blue gift box and card in the middle of the dining room table.

  This time the card read simply You. In these today.

  My Dark Prince must have a daily limit of one “Love, Luke” per customer. I tentatively opened the lid of the present, half expecting toy trouser snakes to jump out at me, but there was only silver tissue paper.

  Unfolding the petals of tissue revealed a frothy treasure of sky blue lingerie nestled inside. Holding them up to admire, the lacy bikini panties had satin strings that tied on each side. The bra was more satin strings and two triangles, gossamer as a spider’s web and about as substantial.

  Normally, I wouldn’t wear underwear I hadn’t laundered first, but I had received my marching orders from Genghis. Removing my clothes in the bathroom, I put on my presents. I didn’t have much hair down there in cha-chaville, but the bikini undies were so miniscule, I had to do a quick trim job. I hooked the front jeweled closure of the bra and centered my breasts within the sheer wisps delicate lace that did little more than cover my nipples.

  I love to buy and wear sexy lingerie, but don’t often go braless. For me, comfort and maybe even a little support is always in the back of my mind when purchasing even the sexiest of bras that I intend to actually wear for the day.

  Still, wearing the flimsy little nothings Luke bought with me on his mind, with sex in mind, was amazingly arousing and I didn’t mind being uncomfortable for a good cause.

  Upon reflection, it wasn’t so bad having a boyfriend, especially one that bought La Perla undies. Especially knowing he would be thinking about doing bad things to me all day.

  Happily whistling soundlessly, I thought, ‘May as well add fuel to that fire.’

  Posing, I snapped a side view selfie and texted Luke a rather artistic picture of the panties tied in a pretty bow low on my hip.

  I redressed and then brewed that long overdue coffee. Relaxing at the kitchen island, I browsed through the unopened birthday cards, ending with the card and thick envelope from Darcy and Arthur Milton.

  I was glad to see them at the party last night, since Darcy and I never got our glass of wine and girl talk on Sunday evening after the holiday shopping festival. Frowning, I thought of Svettie hauling me off at gunpoint out of Darcy’s fortuneteller tent. I hadn’t heard if Svettie was still hanging around town answering police questions or if she’d been transported back to Wisconsin. She might even be free by now to slink off and join Dickie Webster at his brand new secret hideout house. Chief Jack had a quick beer at the party last night, but I didn’t have a chance to find out more before he had to leave. Not that I personally gave a crapola about the Russian. If I never saw that seal barker or her chubby cohort again, it would be too soon.

  Darcy’s husband, Arthur, and Luke had hung out together quite a bit at the party. Total opposites in personalities, the two men had nevertheless hit it off immediately. That was not too surprising on Arthur’s account, since it was a rare person who didn’t like Arthur, regardless if they found his energy level a bit overwhelming.

  It was different for Luke. Over the past few weeks, I’d observed that other men often reacted in extremes to Luke’s personality. Either they were enviously belligerent or they almost hero worshipped him. Since he’d probably been experiencing these reactions his entire life, Luke appeared not to take either reaction seriously, unless someone got in his face. He was definitely used to being in control, but Luke was no alpha-hole. He has a natural cool élan and a sense of humor you can’t learn or fake--you either have it or you don’t.

  But Arthur showed no signs of either extreme and didn’t behave as if Luke intimidated him in the least. He was openly friendly and never hid his genuine interest in everything and everyone around him. Arthur’s exuberant openness put a guarded man like Luke at ease, much like a boy cub tumbling around a relaxed, but dangerous lion.

  If, in his boyish enthusiasm, Arthur sometimes behaved more like a kid with ADD than a parent, Darcy didn’t seem to mind being the dominant authority figure in their family. Perhaps her compensation was Arthur’s slavish devotion to his family. He was well-known, and constantly made fun of by his male friends, for professing his love for Darcy to the highest heavens.

  The truth is, when Arthur and Darcy were first married after a whirlwind affair f
ive years ago, I was cautiously alert when he constantly proclaimed his love. Sadly enough, if you show me a married man fervently shouting his wifely love from the rooftops, nine times out of ten, I could show you the biggest cheaters in town. Voluble wifely devotion seems to be that breed of married man’s way of setting ground rules upfront to cheat with other women. The blunt translation being, “Yes, I want to have sex with you, but it’s only a little harmless nookie on the side. Don’t expect me to divorce my cherished wife and screw up my finances.”

  In Arthur’s instance, I was profoundly grateful he proved an exception to the rule. He was truly that whipped and simply loved to tell anybody who’d listen.

  On their way out of my surprise party last night, Darcy and I giggled together when Arthur had unabashedly invited himself and the boys over to Luke’s farm for the upcoming Saturday afternoon. He was excited to check out the man cave he’d been hearing so much about. Judging by Luke’s surprised, but quick grin, he was okay with the idea. The Miltons also invited Luke and me over afterwards for dinner at their place in Minneapolis.

  Issuing the dinner invite, Darcy had mentioned there was something personal she and Arthur wanted to discuss with me, as well. We were in a boisterous crowd of departing guests, so with her quiet smile and a little wink, Darcy joked that while it was life or death, it could wait. She called over to her husband to not to forget to give me the envelope in his jacket pocket. Turning back to me, Darcy said they were leaving me with some reading material and we’d talk more on Saturday night.

  Darcy had then given me a warm hug with the final ominous words, “And don’t freak out. We know you’re not religious and have never wanted children, but now that you and Luke…”

  I was eternally grateful when my protégé, Mia, accidentally bumped into us and cut Darcy off in midsentence. I did wonder what religion had to do with anything, as the Miltons weren’t regular church goers either, but the rest was no secret. Ever since our early twenties, my old friend has unswervingly predicted I’d change my mind about having kids when I met the man of my dreams. Darcy has continually sworn it’s in the Tarot cards I am to be a mother. I swear back and tell her that she’s nuts.