by Christa Wick
I look up just as his eyes close. Sucking in a deep, deep breath, he holds it until, biting his lips, he shudders and comes.
********************
For a few additional hours, wrapped in Luke's arms, I forget about Rose and Tommy, forget about the past and don't worry about the future. I sleep, I wake, I sleep some more -- all of it surrounded by the animal heat and soft breathing of my lover.
My lover.
What a strange combination of words to run through my head. I have a passing familiarity with "her lover," "his lover," "your lover," but never "my lover" -- until now.
I snuggle closer to Luke, not wanting to wake him but discovering that he hasn't been asleep for at least a few minutes. His voice is too alert when he speaks.
"You didn't kick this time." He rubs my back, his strong fingers kneading muscles made sore by his turning me into some aroused, mindless creature.
Hiding my face against the curve of his shoulder, I smile and mumble something -- just sound, not words. I don't know what to say to him because I have no idea what really happened between us. It could be nothing more than a game, one I am currently enjoying beyond anything I have experienced in my life. It could be something deeper, more meaningful, yet transient. Maybe it will prove to be permanent.
Feeling my eyes mist at this last thought, I rub them against the pillow and lift my head. "You said I could see Tommy today?"
Luke nods then kisses my forehead. He gets up from the bed, walks to his dresser and slides on a fresh pair of silky black briefs. Seeing that he did not leave the bed flaccid but fully erect, I bury my face against the pillow again. This time to hide the blush and a fresh, broader smile.
"Shy again?" He returns to the bed. Bending over the mattress, he brushes his lips against my hair while his fingertips caress my exposed shoulder. "I'll bring some fresh clothes for you once you're in the shower."
I unhide one eye and peek out at him. "Thank you."
Luke shakes his head. "Thank me with a kiss. It says so much more than words."
He throws me a playful wink, making me smile as I roll onto my back and push up. I draw the sheet with me. He pushes it down and I realize he will not let me hide from him while we are together. Then I realize something else -- something shocking. I don't want to hide from Luke.
I tilt my head back, offering him the kiss as his hand takes possession of my bare breast. His lips meet mine. His tongue wages a small battle, winning when I open my mouth to him. Another skirmish erupts as his fingers draw my nipple taut. Moaning in surrender, I place one hand against his shoulder, lightly gripping it in invitation for him to return to bed.
"Don't tempt me, beautiful, or you won't see your baby brother until sometime next week."
A rough, hot rumble, his voice and the threat of his fucking me straight through the rest of the week slick my thighs. When I moan in response, he puts one knee on the bed and forces me to look up at him.
"You want that?" His eyes tell me he knows the answer, or at least part of it.
"Yes..." I blink, stunned at how easy the truth leaves me. I blink again, knowing I shouldn't indulge or admit that desire, that I already have taken too much pleasure from this man who now controls my fate.
"And no," I finish. "I mean...I'm surprised Tommy hasn't scaled down the side of the building already."
Luke laughs, the sound deep and comforting. "Never underestimate the power of an Xbox in subduing a twenty-year-old male."
He kisses me one last time, short and sweet, then leaves me to my shower.
********************
For the last six years, I have dressed Rose and Tommy better than I dress myself. Especially Rose -- she is hardest to satisfy. So the clothes I find on the bed when I finish my shower stun me. I examine the black undergarments first, fresh color heating my cheeks. Both the front of the bra and the back of the panties are caged, so that half of the area they are intended to cover is nothing more than widely spaced straps. For the bra, this means three straps across each breast from my shoulder down to a little above the nipple where the demi cup begins. For the panties, a small bow rests low down the center of my back. From it, three straps on each side curve on a downward diagonal across each cheek to join a two-inch swath of lace. Sheer black, the stockings end halfway up my thighs.
I put the stockings, bra and panties on then spin a slow circle in front of the mirror. I shake my head, feeling like I must be looking at another woman and that the designer is a frigging genius.
Returning to the bed, I put on the silk blouse and skirt in a dark merlot. Both are form fitting and ruched, the many delicate folds in the fabric camouflaging those in my body. Looking at the outfit, I can't entirely wrap my mind around the expensive fabric with its tailored cut in my size or that Luke has put some poor soul through the pain and effort of acquiring them.
I am equally stunned by the details that fill the basket of cosmetics next to the clothes. The colors match those I wore the first night Luke encountered me, but with brand names for which a single bottle of foundation costs more than a month of my utilities. Hell, the tube of frosted pink lipstick is a month of electricity.
I take my time applying the make-up and arranging my hair. Even if it turns out to be dinner with just Tommy, I have the feeling I will see Masters again before the night ends. Plus, I hope the more polished I look when I see Tommy, the more faith he will have in my getting us out of this jam.
Rule number 7 -- Fake it until you make it.
Abusive con artist or not, my father imparted at least a few words of wisdom in the twenty years I knew him. He twisted them into tools to scam people, of course, but it didn't take me long to untwist them, especially once I escaped his control. Tommy was easy to retrain, too. He is, by nature, everything my dad isn't: kind, industrious, smart.
Rose, on the other hand...
I shake my head. I will have time to work on Rose after she is safe. With our father in jail and my warrants gone -- if Masters can really make that happen -- we can finally settle into one place. I can get a better job.
My attention returning to the mirror, I discover Luke standing a few feet behind me, his gaze on my reflection.
"I hope that head shake has nothing to do with how you look." He steps closer and turns me until I face him. His hands around my hips, he draws me closer. "Because you look amazing."
I start to shake my head again, stopping only after it is too late to disguise the gesture. Masters presses against the underside of my chin until I look up at him.
"You don't have to believe me, just smile or say okay. Eventually you will see it for yourself." Tilting his head down, he glosses his lips against my mouth then nudges his nose against mine. "And the next compliment you roll your eyes at, I'm spanking that lush ass of yours while we're both naked."
"Okay." My cheeks burn at the threat. I have never been spanked -- that would have been too mild a punishment by my father's standards. Yesterday -- even this morning -- the threat would have made me tense and anxious, fearful perhaps. Now I doubt I would protest if Luke spanked me. The mere idea of his hand on my bare bottom and the press of his erect cock against my hip rekindles the embers of my earlier arousal.
I search his gaze, looking for any sign that I should be worried the experience would be less than pleasurable. After all, I know next to nothing about Luke. That you can't con a con offers no comfort because I have come to the realization that I no longer am one.
It would be child's play for him to scam me. I want what he is offering, am downright greedy for his smile and touch.
Cupping my cheek, he kisses the edge of my mouth. "Baby, save the thinking for when you're with Solandro or at the table. Here, with me, I just want you to feel."
To just feel, I have to trust.
I close my eyes, wanting like hell to trust Luke. Taking full possession of my head, he kisses me again. His tongue presses against the seal of my lips. When I don't yield, he tilts my head back until the strain on my ne
ck gives him the small opening he needs. His tongue slips in, takes a slow walk across the edge of my front teeth then curls under my top lip to suck it into his mouth.
Stopping, he waits until I open my eyes then drills into them. "I know what you're thinking."
I lift a brow, my throat too tight to talk.
He smiles, the line of his mouth almost sad. "To feel, you have to trust, and you're certain you can't trust me until you have had a chance to think through every possible angle."
"Baby, you're wrong on this one." He brushes the hair from my face then strokes my cheek. "You have to feel your way to trusting me. Can you do that?"
I look away for a second. When I look back, I see too many things in his gaze to process: heat, desire, kindness, something that looks like affection or maybe even--
Cutting the thought short with a nod, I give him half the answer he wants.
"I can try."
********************
Thirty minutes into dinner with Tommy, my cell phone rings. Luke is absent from the room and has been since the start of the meal to give Tommy and me the privacy to discuss the events of the last few days. At the first ring, he reappears.
Knowing the call is being recorded and traced by Luke's team, I try to keep Solandro's man on longer. I ask to speak with Rose before he can really start talking. I misstate the instructions so he must take the time to read them to me again. He still hangs up before we can get a trace, telling me to get the details right or Rose is dead.
Hearing the threat, I want to collapse in a panicky heap. I take one look at Tommy and know I can't. He needs me to be strong -- Rose needs it even more.
"You've got this." Tommy rubs my arm as I put the cell phone down on the table. "I know you do."
I nod, unable to offer him stronger assurances. He thinks I can tackle the world. But, really, what does he know? I am twenty-six fucking years old, uneducated, scrambling from one pay check to the next, lying to get jobs, always too busy reacting to the latest crisis to get a better handle on anything and the list of how incompetent I truly am just goes on and on. My opponent? Solandro is a hardened criminal -- worse than my father. He is a psychopath who has other psychopaths working for him.
Luke gently takes my arm and leads me back to the table. "You have two hours before you need to pick up the lenses, Marie. The two of you should finish your meal while I get things ready."
Seeing something guarded in his expression, I study Luke for a moment. He doesn't hide his expression, doesn't mask the tension lines lightly etching the sides of his mouth or eyes. His places his hand on my arm, the position so much like that first night in the casino when he busted me. Only this time he lightly strokes his thumb against my elbow, a silent request for me to trust him.
I nod and sit down, but I can't fight the feeling that everything is about to go sideways. I watch Tommy pick at his food. We are both too nervous to eat and give up. We spend the last few minutes with our arms wrapped around one another, our foreheads touching.
As Luke returns to lead me away, Tommy reassures me one last time. "You've got this, sis."
********************
Whether I have the situation under control or not, Luke Masters has no intention of letting me leave his casino.
"What do you mean I can't go?" We are back in that underground room, the one with the couch and television that Vincent deposited me in after I returned from Solandro's warehouse the first time. I stand in front of Luke, our bodies touching as I glare up at him.
"Marie, you don't know the monster you're dealing with." Both hands on my shoulders, he tries to walk me to the couch to sit me down and reason with me.
I shake free, plant my hands on my hips and continue glaring at him. "You or Solandro?"
"Solandro's boss." With his cheeks flushing an angry red, Luke closes his eyes. "The man is a sadist."
"So I should just leave Rose with him?" Too furious to contain myself, I reach out and push at Luke's chest. "Just when did you decide you weren't letting me go?"
"About the time you got the call."
Something that looks suspiciously like a lie flashes across his brown eyes. Before I can call him on it, he catches my hand and reels me closer.
He tries to stroke my hair. "I'll send a team into the meeting place. We'll get her out."
I shake my head, squirming to break free from his hard embrace. "She hasn't been at any of the meeting places. They find out they're burned and Rose is dead -- after they do..."
I falter. I can't bear to think what Solandro has planned for Rose if I fail or he discovers that I betrayed him.
"You aren't leaving." He cups my face with both hands, his gaze intense and his mouth a firm line a whisper in length from mine. "I'll make Solandro tell me where he stashed Rose."
"No!" Twisting free, I reach for my cell phone. "You can't possibly know what will trigger her murder. It could be something as simple as a call from Solandro that never comes or uses the wrong password. I'm going!"
"You're not." Luke wrenches the phone away and shoves it into his jacket pocket. "Baby, if he figures out you burned him, he'll do those things to you."
Getting my elbow between our bodies, I try to leverage away from his chest as I continue arguing. "I'll risk it."
"I won't." Catching me by the hair, he knots his fingers in it then pushes me against the wall. "You left things out, Marie. Things you didn't want me to know about Rose. The shoplifting, the pregnancy that ended in the emergency room because she overdosed on oxycontin..."
I close my eyes, but I can't block the truth. Luke's staff was busy while he fucked me. In two days' time, they figured out Solandro's boss, whom I didn't know, and tracked down our identities in at least the last three cities in which we lived.
Rule number 8 -- There are no fathers and sons at the table.
No lovers or friends, either. I open my eyes and glare at Luke. "Girls like Rose die every day, is that it?"
My tears turn the question into an accusation.
He flinches but doesn't back down. "Yes, Marie. I won't risk your life for the chance to save hers. She may be in on it with Solandro -- you don't know."
"I know she's my sister." I had worked my hand into Luke's pocket while he argued with me. Pulling my phone out, I start dialing.
He takes the phone away. Looking down, he sees the first two of the three numbers I intended to call.
9-1-
"You're calling the police?" He scowls at me, sensing, but not quite understanding what I am up to.
I nod. "On myself."
He has been acting like he cares about me. If he does, it's my ace in the hole to save Rose. I play it. "I have a warrant, remember. And I'm ready to confess to cheating in the club--"
"Baby, that's not the deal we made."
He tries to rest his forehead against mine. I won't allow it. I shake my head. Fresh tears stream down my cheeks. "The deal was you would do everything in your power to help me save Rose. Rose -- not me."
"Love, please don't make me do this." His entire hand shaking, Luke places trembling fingertips against my cheek and presses a long, hard kiss against my mouth.
I am nearly done in. I want to stay here. I want to be held and cared for by this man. I want a fresh start, but there's no such thing. Closing my eyes, I memorize the kiss. When it is forever imprinted on my heart, I break free and look at him.
"I'm sorry -- I have to."
********************
A woman in her mid-sixties meets me at the Greyhound bus station with the contact lenses. Red-eyed and coughing, she looks every bit the junkie and I don't doubt for a second that one or more of Solandro's men are in the station to oversee the exchange. I duck into the bathroom, put the case from Solandro in my purse and retrieve a case Masters gave me.
Inside, two blue lenses float in a watery solution. Remembering the track marks on the old woman's arms, I soap my hands and rinse with hot water twice before I touch the lenses. Once they are in place,
I leave the station and flag a cab discreetly waiting just for me. Climbing into the back seat, I hide my shock as I recognize the well-worn ball cap and denim jacket Luke wore for the last meeting.
I expected a familiar face, just not his.
For show, I tell him which casino and then I act like he doesn't exist. A manila envelope is on the seat and I open it. I drop Solandro's case inside and pull out a photograph. It is a headshot of a dealer from the Desert Crown Casino and Resort. I flatten the paper against my thighs and study his face.
From the call until this very second, Luke has worked to get the Desert Crown on board. The casino's owner, however, won't consent to my just walking in and using the lenses. Instead, he will have the dealer feed me wins, which Luke promises to cover. Everyone else at the table will be in on it and I must turn the lenses over to the FBI before I can play. They have eight hours to analyze them, then back I go to Solandro with a purse full of money.
Everything is moving too fast. In less than two days, I have moved from trusting only Tommy to being forced to trust many: Luke, his team at the casino, the FBI, the dealer at the Desert Crown and the casino's owner. That is more trust than I have and my heart is jackhammering inside my chest by the time Luke pulls to a stop in front of the Desert Crown. I pull a few bills from my purse for show and pass the money forward. Catching my hand, Luke's gaze holds mine in the rear view mirror.
"I'll have eyes on you the entire time."
Withdrawing my hand, I smile but my heart isn't in the gesture. I am too worried I will once again fail Rose.
Inside the casino, I spot the dealer after about ten minutes of wandering, but I walk around another ten, surreptitiously looking for anyone who might be working for Solandro. When I finally sit down, the hands start small -- at table minimum. Three hours later, I am pulling in thousand dollar wins.
Next to me, one of the players leaves. Like a real game, they rotate in and out, some set gesture signaling that another member of security is ready to slide into the seat as soon as it is vacated.
Not this time.
An outsider takes the seat next to me. Everyone at the table is a stranger to me, but I sense he is an outsider by the way the dealer tenses ever so slightly and how the man to my left coughs. Even though the wins and losses aren't real, the cough is his tell and he can't help himself. With no cards in play and catching the dealer's reaction, this is all I need to know the man on my right isn't part of the team.
